Miss Julie

“In the following play, instead of trying to do anything new—which is impossible—I have simply modernized the form in accordance with demands I think contemporary audiences make upon this art.”

Though Strindberg sees himself as an innovator, he does not try to tell any new stories, but rather, to elaborate new ideas about the world. This is a crucial point: Strindberg does not argue that humans have changed; for Strindberg, humans remain essentially the same as they have always been, though one can always use new ideas to understand humans and their nature.

“I find the joy of life in its cruel and powerful struggles, and my enjoyment comes from being able to know something, being able to learn something.”

Strindberg has little sympathy for critics and theatergoers who think of his tragedies as too sad: Tragedies are supposed to be sad! A sad story or play does not, however, need to be joyless, as Strindberg explains, and indeed Strindberg insists that the “joy of life” comes precisely from learning from the “cruel and powerful struggles” that people face in their daily lives.

“What will next shock simple minds is that I have not motivated the action in a simple way, nor is there a single point of view. Every event in life—and this is a rather new discovery!—is ordinarily the result of a whole series of more or less deep-lying motives. The spectator, however, usually singles out the one that is either easiest for him to understand or is most advantageous to him personally.”

A crucial point for Strindberg is that his play represents multiple points of view and complex motivations for his characters, introducing the theme of The Complexity and Contradictory Nature of People. Strindberg emphasizes that people’s actions and behaviors rarely have a single, simple motive, even though outsiders often find one motive which they can most easily understand. Rather, everything we do as people emerges from “a whole series of more or less deep-lying motives.” In other words, our actions are usually overdetermined. This is one of the “new” ideas that underlies Strindberg’s Naturalism.

“Miss Julie has too much pride about some things and not enough about others, just like her mother was […] If you ask me, she just isn’t refined. Just now, when she was dancing in the barn, she pulled the gamekeeper away from Anna and made him dance with her. We wouldn’t behave like that, but that’s what happens when aristocrats pretend they’re common people—they get common!—But she is quite a woman! Magnificent! What shoulders, and what—et cetera!”

In describing Julie’s character, Jean touches on a few important aspects of her multiple interconnected (and sometimes conflicting) motives: Jean recognizes a similarity between Julie and her mother, suggesting an element of heredity that will continue to be explored in the play, but he also calls attention to her refusal to abide by the niceties of social class. At the same time, however, Jean cannot help admiring Julie’s beauty, suggesting that he sees her as a good way to elevate his own social standing.

“Don’t take it as an order! On a night like this we’re all just ordinary people having fun, so we’ll forget about rank. Now, take my arm—Don’t worry, Kristine! I won’t steal your sweetheart!”

Despite her insistence that the social hierarchy is suspended during the festival ambience of midsummer eve, there is still an inescapable imbalance of Class Conflict and Social Hierarchy between Julie and Jean: Ultimately, Jean cannot help but take Julie’s desire to dance with him as an order, notwithstanding whether or not she intends it as such. Similarly, Jean will later emphasize that he would never be able to feel like Julie’s equal while in the count’s house, which is too filled with reminders of his servility.

“JEAN. You’re not mad at me, are you, for leaving…?

KRISTINE. Of course not!—Why should I be, for a little thing like that? Besides, I know my place…

JEAN (puts his arm around her waist). You’re a sensible girl, Kristine, and you’d made a good wife.”

In her exchange with Jean, Kristine makes it clear that she, unlike Jean or Julie, is conscious of her place within the social hierarchy and has no desire for either upward or downward mobility. This acceptance makes her “sensible” in a way that Jean and Julie are not, and is what allows her to escape the tragedies that must befall both Jean and Julie.

“JEAN. My natural modesty forbids me to believe that you would really compliment someone like me, and so I took the liberty of assuming that you were exaggerating, which polite people call flattering.

JULIE. Where did you learn to talk like that? You must have been to the theatre often.

JEAN. Of course. And I’ve done a lot of traveling.”

Jean takes great care to demonstrate his learning and culture, especially when talking with Miss Julie. His deliberate and perhaps overly-refined diction hints that it is all an act (and indeed, after Jean has gotten what he needs from Julie, his manner will change completely). There is also an element of meta theatricality in this exchange, with Jean using the theater for his education in much the same way as Strindberg himself observes the theater ought to be used (see the Author’s Preface).

“JEAN (rising). That’s enough now, Miss Julie! Someone might come in and see us.

JULIE. What of it?

JEAN. People talk, that’s what! If you knew how their tongues were wagging just now at the dance, you’d…

JULIE. What are they saying? Tell me!—Sit down!

JEAN (sits). I don’t want to hurt you, but they were saying things—suggestive things, that, that…well, you can figure it out for yourself! You’re not a child. If a woman is seen drinking alone with a man—let alone a servant—at night—then…”

Throughout their early interactions in the play, Jean constantly makes a point of warning Julie to be careful about mixing with those below her station, while Julie acts naively oblivious to the fact that such behavior can spark unseemly gossip. Julie’s ostensible naivety, however, does not mean that she does not care about her reputation or that she is not afraid of being shamed, as will become clear in the second part of the play. Jean’s fears here speak to the theme of Class Conflict and Social Hierarchy.

“Don’t step down, Miss Julie, take my advice. No one’ll believe you stepped down voluntarily. People will always say you fell.”

The language of falling and rising becomes increasingly important in this part of the play, reflected in the respective dreams of Julie and Jean, with Julie dreaming of stepping down and Jean dreaming of climbing. Part of the nightmare of Julie’s elevated situation is that she cannot “step down”—she can only “fall,” because if she ever decides to leave her socially-elevated position for one that is lower, people will inevitably assume that she did so because she had somehow disgraced herself, not because she really wanted to.

“I crawled under a pile of weeds, and I mean under—under thistles that pricked me and wet dirt that stank. And I looked at you as you walked among the roses, and I thought: if it’s true that a thief can enter heaven and be with the angels, then why can’t a farmhand’s son here on God’s earth enter the manor house garden and play with the Count’s daughter?”

Jean’s description of seeing Julie as a child is rich with vivid poetic imagery, especially the natural imagery of plants and flowers that is so prominent throughout the play (See: Symbols & Motifs). Here, the socially-inferior Jean is symbolized by the thistles and wet dirt that place him literally below Julie, who meanwhile walks “among the roses.” There is also an important religious motif here that is picked up from earlier, when Jean described the manor house garden as a “Garden of Eden,” and that will be picked up again later. Jean’s youthful desire for Julie also reflects the issue of Gender Roles and Power Dynamics in the play.

“The swineherd found his true love

A pretty girl so fair,

The swineherd found his true love

But let the girl beware.

For then he saw the princess

The princess on the golden hill,

But then he saw the princess,

So much fairer still.”

The servants’ song has all the elements of a folk song, describing a swineherd who leaves his lover to pursue a beautiful princess. The song is obviously a synopsis of the events of the play itself, with Jean as the swineherd, Kristine as the “true love,” and Julie as the princess. The song recasts the events of the play so far, but also foreshadows the tragic consequences that are about to unfold through the Class Conflict and Social Hierarchy in the play.

“JULIE. Run away? But where? We can’t go out—or into Kristine’s room.

JEAN. True. But there’s my room. Necessity knows no rules. Besides, you can trust me. I’m your friend and I respect you.

JULIE. But suppose—suppose they look for you in there?

JEAN. I’ll bolt the door, and if anyone tries to break in, I’ll shoot!—Come! (on his knees) Come!

JULIE (urgently). Promise me…?

JEAN. I swear!”

Up until now, it has been Jean who has been worried about reputation and keeping up appearances, while Julie has flouted the rules of social class and hierarchy to flirt with Jean. Now the roles are reversed: Jean urgently presses Julie to hide in his room, ostensibly to escape the mockery of the servants, though it soon becomes clear that he has his own agenda after he and Julie have sex. The Gender Roles and Power Dynamics between them are thus now reversed, with Jean gaining the upper hand.

“JULIE. That’s all very well! But Jean—you must give me courage!—Tell me you love me! Put your arms around me!

JEAN (hesitating). I want to—but I don’t dare. Not in this house, not again. I love you—never doubt that—you don’t doubt it, do you, Miss Julie?

JULIE (shy; very feminine). ‘Miss!’—Call me Julie! There are no barriers between un anymore. Call me Julie!

JEAN (tormented). I can’t! There’ll always be barriers between us as long as we stay in this house.”

Jean is torn between his ambitions to elevate his social position and his deeply-ingrained servile mentality. His environment—the count’s manor—has such a hold over him that he cannot stop addressing Julie formally as “Miss” so long as he is in the house, despite the sexual intimacy they have just shared. His complicated feelings in this moment speak to the central importance Strindberg gives to The Complexity and Contradictory Nature of People in his characterization.

“I wasn’t born to cringe. I’ve got stuff in me, I’ve got character, and if I can only grab onto that first branch, you watch me climb! I’m a servant today, but next year I’ll own my own hotel. In ten years I’ll have enough to retire. Then I’ll go to Rumania and be decorated. I could—mind you I said could—end up a count!”

Alluding to his recurring dream of climbing a tree to raid a bird’s nest, Jean expresses his plans for rising in the world, even as high as a count. Jean truly believes that he is too good for servitude and that his superiority will bring him success as a social climber. To that end, it becomes clear that Jean views Julie first and foremost as a useful tool to help him achieve his goals.

“JULIE (pacing back and forth). Is there anyone on earth more miserable than I am at this moment?

JEAN. Why should you be? After such a conquest? Think of Kristine in there. Don’t you think she has feelings, too?

JULIE. I thought so awhile ago, but not anymore. No, a servant is a servant…

JEAN. And a whore is a whore!

JULIE (on her knees, her hands clasped). Oh, God in Heaven, end my wretched life! Take me away from the filth I’m sinking into! Save me! Save me!”

As the exchange between Julie and Jean grows more acrimonious, the prejudices of both parties are put on display, shifting the Gender Roles and Power Dynamics between them. For Julie, Jean is ultimately nothing more than “a servant,” and her relationship with him is tragic for her because it threatens to destroy her reputation both sexually and socially. For Jean, on the other hand, Julie is inferior because she is a woman, and also because she has, in his view, shamed herself through sleeping with him.

“Menial’s strumpet, lackey’s whore, shut up and get out of here! Who are you to lecture me on coarseness? None of my kind is ever as coarse as you were tonight. Do you think one of your maids would throw herself at a man the way you did? Have you ever seen any girl of my class offer herself like that? I’ve only seen it among animals and streetwalkers.”

Jean begins to argue that he is, if anything, better than Julie, that he already occupies a higher rung on the social ladder than she does: After all, he may still be a servant, but she is now a “menial’s strumpet, lackey’s whore.” Indeed, Jean viciously tells Julie that even servants do not shame themselves the way she did, comparing her to an animal or sex worker. This change in attitude reflects Jean’s misogynistic views and his desire only to use Julie to achieve his own ends. 

“On the other hand, it hurts me to find out that what I was striving for wasn’t finer, more substantial. It hurts me to see you sunk so low that you’re down by autumn rains and turned into mud.”

Though Jean is happy that he has succeeded in winning Julie, his very success makes her less desirable in his eyes: By the very act of having sex with him, Julie has shamed herself and has thereby lowered herself on the social hierarchy. As far as Jean is concerned, Julie has lost much of her value as soon as she became his.

“I learned from her to hate men—you’ve heard how she hated the whole male sex—and I swore to her I’d never be a slave to any man.”

Julie traces her hatred of men to her mother, whom she credits with feminist and egalitarian ideas that were considered radical at the time. Despite her vow that she would “never be a slave to any man,” Julie increasingly places herself at Jean’s mercy. Julie’s belief that she desires independence when, deep down, what she desires most is to be loved and wanted, speaks to The Complexity and Contradictory Nature of People.

“Love is a game we play when we get time off from work, but we don’t have all day and night, like you. I think you’re sick, really sick. Your mother was crazy, and her ideas have poisoned your life.”

Julie’s attempt to coax a sincere expression of affection from Jean is futile: For the practical and ambitious Jean, love is no more than a “game” for which he does not have time. The salient point, for Jean, is that Julie should recognize her place as a woman and forget what any feminist or egalitarian ideas her mother taught her. He therefore tries to assert himself as superior to her in the Gender Roles and Power Dynamics between them.

“KRISTINE. No, I don’t care who knows it—I won’t stay in a house where we can’t respect the people we work for.

JEAN. Why should we respect them?

KRISTINE. You’re so clever, you tell me! Do you want to wait on people who can’t behave decently? Do you? You disgrace yourself that way, if you ask me.

JEAN. But it’s a comfort to know they aren’t any better than us.

KRISTINE. Not for me. If they’re no better, what do we have to strive for to better ourselves.”

This short exchange highlights the different attitudes Jean and Kristine have on class and their place within it. For Kristine, the higher social classes are supposed to be better than commoners so that they can act as positive role models. Jean, on the other hand, likes to know that the higher social classes are no better than he is, because this knowledge gives him hope that he can rise in the social hierarchy as well.

“Kill me, too! Kill me! You, who can slaughter an innocent animal without blinking an eye! Oh, how I hate you, how I detest you! There’s blood between us now! I curse the moment I was conceived in my mother’s womb!”

Julie is devastated when Jean kills her greenfinch, which she had described as the only thing that loves her in the world. Jean’s action shows how cruel and savage he can be, and also prompts Julie, in a moment of lucidity, to realize that she really cannot love Jean.

“KRISTINE. Well, you see, we can’t have it without God’s special grace, and that isn’t given to everyone—

JULIE. Who is it given to then?

KRISTINE. That’s the great secret of the workings of grace, Miss Julie, and God is no respecter of persons, for the last shall be the first.”

God’s “special grace” becomes more and more important as the play draws to a close, with Julie finally concluding that her only hope for salvation is this grace. Central to this idea of grace is the idea that “the last shall be the first”—that is, that God’s grace prioritizes the poor and lowly over wealthy aristocrats (like Julie). This passage reinforces the importance of the religion motif in the play (See: Symbols & Motifs).

“It’s as if this coat made it impossible for me to order you to do anything.—And now, since the Count spoke to me—I—I can’t really explain it—but—ah, it’s the damn lackey in me!—I think if the Count came down here now—and ordered me to cut my throat, I’d do it on the spot.”

The arrival of the count effectively robs Jean of his agency: His plans and ambitions are all crushed as he realizes that his servile nature is part of who he is and that he cannot leave his social class as easily as he thought. With horror, Jean finally acknowledges the special power and authority his master has over him—even the power of life and death. As he says this, both he and Julie finally understand that all of Jean’s aristocratic posturing up to this point was a mere performance, and that he cannot defy the usual rules of Class Conflict and Social Hierarchy after all.