A play about a woman who declares her independence from her marriage and her family was something audiences in 1879 weren't ready for. Henrik Ibsen's A Doll's House shocked and offended people wherever it was performed.
The Norwegian dramatist maintained that his script wasn't about a woman; it was about anyone who had to live according to rules created by others.
But the drama tied in perfectly with the stirrings about women's rights that were being felt in Europe and the United States toward the end of the 19th century.
As the women's movement grew in strength and influence throughout the 20th century, A Doll's House became a classic, included in college courses in drama and women's studies.
A strong production of the play, directed by Kevin Costa, is being presented by the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company in a new translation by Paul Walsh, professor of theater at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst.
Ibsen's thesis is still fresh today, but he wraps it in a complex plot: a forged signature, unrequited love, blackmail, revelatory letters, couples parted by circumstances and misunderstandings, debts coming due, long-kept secrets.
The story centers on Nora Helmer, whose doting husband, Torvald, considers her a child and a toy. Nora, seemingly happy, plays up to this image.
Eight years earlier, she had secretly taken out a large loan to finance a year in Italy. The warm climate enabled Torvald to get over an unnamed disease that would otherwise have killed him.
To get the loan, Nora had to commit forgery. She has lived in fear of exposure ever since. Eventually, Torvald finds out and there is a confrontation.
In a fine performance, Christina Schlegel gives Nora the naive charm that captivates Torvald but reveals her as shallow, conceited and ignorant of life outside her home.
Today's audiences cheer Nora's resolution to leave her husband, confront life and try to find her real self. Some playgoers might want her to reveal a long-suppressed strength, ending the play on a heroic note, but Schlegel shows us that Nora's strength is tentative. She has a long way to go to achieve her goal.
Despite Ibsen's serious theme, the current production has many laughs. They come mostly from 1879-style behavior that we find funny today - primarily Torvald's superior male attitude toward Nora. Fondly smiling at Nora's failings, he is blind to his own.
