Literary Pets – The Scorpion without a name

In 1864, Henrik Ibsen was living in Rome. He was yet to make his name as a playwright, but was starting work on a play named Brand, the first drama to make him famous. One day, as he was working on his manuscript, he found a scorpion in the room and trapped it inside a beer glass. He then kept the creature on his desk as he wrote, occasionally feeding it pieces of fruit, usually plums although on one occasion a slice of lemon, (as they like to eat insects, the scorpion was probably seriously unimpressed by such offerings), but Ibsen was convinced that, by emptying its poison into the fruit, the creature felt relieved and much happier. He loved watching its movements and enjoyed drawing attention to his unusual pet whenever visitors appeared. However, there is no record of any name being given to the scorpion – perhaps he preferred it to remain anonymous?

One critic who recently reviewed a new Ibsen biography described the Norwegian playwright as “impossible to like” – stingy, graceless, glum, vain, proud, domineering, ungenerous, supremely egotistical, ruthless, a control freak (and) … quite a dirty old man”. Perhaps a scorpion was a highly suitable pet for such a person? With his attacks on social conventions, his biting wit and the tragic fates he gives his characters, Ibsen has, for good reasons, been called ‘the scorpion of the North’. Like the scorpion, he emptied his venom, via his pen, striking poison into the heart of his conventional society. Today, a new sculpture in the Ibsen Museum in Oslo includes a tiny scorpion, in memory of this dangerous pet.