Allegorical Dreams, Playing Cards, Twigs. Strindberg’s Occult Diary
This article discusses August Strindberg’s The Occult Diary, 1896–1908, with an emphasis on its material characteristics. The text is analyzed as a form of training of perception: It is the visible that is being observed, the audible that is heard. The Diary is also an archive, which assembles text, paper clippings, playing cards, twigs, and quotes, and like all archives, it generates its own logic: The Diary functions as an adding machine, fed by Strindberg with incessantly new observations. At the same time, the Diary is marked by administrative measures, which ultimately regulate its balancing act between privacy and publicity. In the Diary, a type of writer emerges: the writer who cuts and pastes, who administrates both his life and his writing.