Documentatieblad werkgroep Achttiende eeuw. Jaargang 1972

(1972)– [tijdschrift] Documentatieblad werkgroep Achttiende eeuw– rechtenstatus

Some sociological aspects of Simon Stijl's ‘De Torenbouw van Brikkekiks in het landschap Batrachia’.

The communicative implications of satiric drama are so important and captivating that whoever undertakes a more than superficial study of it cannot afford to ignore them. Indeed, the conviction will gradually grow upon him that of all aspects of satire, the communicative is the most essential one.

A satiric drama is meant to entrance, to impress, and to destroy reputations and establish other ones, to exert influence in a utopian or an anti-utopian sense. Its foremost objective is that the author's aim, his original intention, is grasped, that the message is effectively brought home to the spectator, listener or reader.

The comparison with the telling of a joke in a group of people is, I find, very appropriate: in a particular group and place the joke is good if, and only if, it is brought home. If the joker makes the point in the wrong words, in an incorrect code, no one will laugh; if he uses the right code, but his audience is either not intelligent enough or ignorant of that code, he will be laughing alone.

Analogously, a satiric drama cannot be said to be good in an absolute sense, only in a relative sense. A satiric drama is, above all, an occasional piece. Not however in the same sense as a love poem which, though written for a certain girl, is immediately intelligible for the reader in its main thoughts and basic feelings. Satiric drama is an occasional piece in the sense that it is constructed for a very definite occasion and also that it is coded - in the most proper sense of the word - in a few specific codes, just to make sure that a very definite audience is reached or that deliberately a certain effect is brought about with very definite readers or listeners.

The author cannot afford to do that which the love poet can, namely, to ‘express his most individual emotions in a most individual way’. On the contrary, since the effect of satire is wholly dependent on its intended audience, that is on its receptive and perceptive level, the author is forced to express the thought and emotions that are alive within that group in signs recognizable for that group. The connection between the cognitive and emotive structure of that group

and the information brought to it by the satire is so close that the former may be said to be determinative for the latter.

It is my intention to investigate how decipherment of the code must have taken place with a certain eighteenth century drama and what conclusions may be drawn with regard to its design, the composition of the audience and, if possible, the structure of satiric drama in general. It is to be regretted that in the case of the play I have in mind, all records of the audience's reactions are lacking, so that one might say that we do not know of its success or effect. A slight advantage may possibly derive from this: I shall be forced to take the piece itself as a starting point, and this again justifies my occupation with it.

For my analysis I chose a play that refers to the turbulent and explosive situation of the Netherlands in the years 1786 and 1787. From these years I had three plays at my disposal: Willem de Vijfde, of de Wraakgierige, Treurspel, Hattem, 1786; Willem en Willemyntje, of de Mislukte reis naar de Republiek der Keezen, Staatkundig Blyspel, te Nymeegen en Amersfoort, 1787Ga naar eind1.; De Torenbouw van het Vlek Brikkekiks in het Landschap Batrachia, (in manuscriptGa naar eind2.).

The last play was, I thought, the most suitable: it is written by the well-known Harlingen doctor, historian and politician Simon Stijl. The piece may have been written towards the end of 1787, but more probably early in 1788, because the oath of allegiance which was demanded of governmental and religious dignitaries after the satisfaction for Princess Wilhelmina's arrest, was explicitly stipulated in the The Hague Resolution as late as February 28th 1788.

The fact that this satisfaction plays a part in the play, and its utopian outcome - which we shall mention later - were also reasons for me to give preference to Stijl's drama.

It is not probable that the play was ever printed: the spring of 1788 was not a very favourable time for that. What printer would have risked his life for it? One may however assume that it was extensively read in patriotic circles in Friesland. And was it perhaps played in private circles? In this connection one can hardly overlook the fact that Simon Stijl was for many years an active member of an amateur company, that he often played the leading part and that he also staged the plays himselfGa naar eind3..

It is useful to remember that Stijl was one of the supporters of Orange sovereignty when he finished his main work De Opkomst en Bloei der Vereenigde Nederlanden, in 1774, and even as late as 1781, - as may be inferred from his poem Aan Nederlands Erfstadhouder. His views were clearly democratic, but in those days he expected from the stadtholder some initiative to extend to the citizens a more definite share in the government of town and country. When his expectations as those of many others, proved futile, especially in 1784, when the Duke of Brunswick, his adviser, had departed and William V had had ample opportunity to give the citizens some hope for a democratic rule, Stijls detestation of the Prince and his clique grew larger and larger. Eventually this detestation turned into irreconcilable hatred: witnessed clearly by his sayings against Orange after Stijl had become a ‘representant’, eight years after the Princess' arrest. The De Torenbouw van het Vlek Brikkekkiks in het Landschap Batrachia shows the first signs of this hatred. The leading personages are the Bailiff (Schout) Krabbekwaad and his wife, ‘Madame’ Krabbekwaad, born Habstenoer, a name rich in connotations. Their closest collaborators are the Advocate, Guichelheil the Minister, Bistortus the Doctor, and Stottersot, a German valet who was made an alderman later. Among the other aldermen (schepenen) of the market-town we find a certain Weerhaan, who behaves true to his name but also a Vossestaart, a Paddestoel, a Wolbaal and a Rondhout. Vuurslag and Stillewacht are only mentioned, they never appear on stage. The last personage, ‘Madame’ Fijnepijn, a close friend of the Minister's, brings out the necessary relief in the play. The second act takes place in her house; the first and last acts in the Bailiff's house.

Broadly outlined the plot is very simple: Madame Krabbekwaad wants a new tower built to replace the old one. From her husband, a drunk, who on top of that cannot leave the maid-servants alone, she can hardly expect any support and certainly no initiative. Her supporters are the Advocate, and even more so the minister and the doctor. However there is a lot of trouble with the college of aldermen, four of whom are against the plans. Minister Guichelheil backs up Madame Krabbekwaad's ruse to have an eighth alderman appointed; then, if the votes balance, the bailiff can use his casting-vote. Thus the valet Stotterzot is appointed as the eight alderman.

It so happens that Madame Krabbekwaad-Habstenoer, while on an inspection tour of the old tower, is arrested by civil guards Baron Habstenoer, her German brother, comes at once to her aid. Some severe terms for satisfaction follow. Incited and armed by the supporters of the bailiff the populace victimizes many citizens. In the end the college of aldermen, severely reduced in numbers, is forced to swear, reluctantly but solemnly, that it will first serve the interests of the house of Krabbekwaad-Habstenoer, then those of the upper party and only then those of the country, and in this last case, only in the spirit of the Krabbekwaads. When however the Bailiff tries to ensnare the alderman Vossestaart into a deadlock, the latter cleverly manages to jostle him. An outburst of anger from the Bailiff against his domineering wife ends the piece. So much for the main lines of the play. Let us now consider the communicative aspect. This calls for an analysis of the coding process. Stijl coded his play in signs which he thought could reasonably be expected to be known and recognized by his readers and listeners. The satire was to be carried home; using unknown or little known code signs would be equivalent to aiming beside the target. From this it follows that the satiric drama which is the object of our study must show a structure of code-symbols, - coding elements, that derive their signification from the source-field common to both the author Stijl and his audience.

Of course, Pierre BourdieuGa naar eind4. is quite right in stating that it is illusory to suppose that a work of art, whatever it may be, can be understood directly, that is to say without some intervening knowledge of a code. This holds true for the plastic arts, but in my opinion, a fortiori for literature. For literature of its very nature has a more content-dependent character than the plastic arts or music; ‘content-dependent’ meaning: referring to something outside the piece. Every contact one has with a piece of art is accompanied by some conscious or unconscious decoding, i.e. making use of codes one has grown up with or which one has acquired. Now it may happen and indeed it often happens that the codes available to the reader or hearer are quite different from the codes of the source-field from which the work of art originated. In such a case a short-circuit arises which can be solved satisfactorily if the spectator enjoys the work of art in his own, personal way, through the use of codes proper to himself.

Satiric drama does not permit of such a short-circuit. It is wholly dependent on the clarity of its code, however much may be obscured by it. Satiric drama is a rigid and closed composition, of which the relevant elements are directly related to values and norms in the source-field. The codes used are not all literary. They are literary only in so far as they are related to the form of the drama. But there are also religious, political and ethical values and norms that are directly related to the coding. And as some norms only obtain for particular groups or classes, the coding is also dependent on the author's social status. His aesthetics is but a dimension of his ethics and that of his group.

The coding then takes place along the following lines. In the source-field particular facts or events are converted into the group-code. The satisfaction rendered after the arrest of the Princess to the Prussian King and herself - a historical fact - was coded as a righteous deed in the Orange camp, but as an infamous misdeed in that of the patriots. The satirist produces these lines further by using a literary formula. Stilistic figures such as parody, charge, understatement, allusion, and reductio, are the most important means for that conversion. In that formula Stadtholder Willem V becomes Bailiff Krabbekwaad of the market-town of Brikkekiks in the Country of Batrachia.

During the decoding process in the spectator's mind the object is to disentangle the complex maze of code symbols. ‘Disentangle’ is not the proper word; I use it to emphasize the complexity of the satiric event. The reader does not ‘disentangle’, - the process is much too momentary, too fleeting. He perceives allusions and caricatures and through them searches out the historical reality which is being referred to.

Let us assume the standpoint of the reader of Stijl's Torenbouw in the spring of 1788 and try to analyze the decoding process.

The reader is confronted with a structure of fictitious elements: he is facing a drama and is conscious of this fact. At the same time he encounters some literary code: he knows there is no such town as Brikkekiks in a country called Batrachia, as the title would have him believe. Simultaneously, it strikes him that within the fictitious framework it is possible to discern things, facts and names which have a bearing on social and political reality. If we only consider the title, the easiest to see through is the name Batrachia.

The Batrachomyomachia, The Battle between Frogs and Mice, a parody of the Iliad, was known to well-read readers. In other words, Batrachia, the Frog Country, was a code-word for the learned bourgeoisie; this implies that we have reduced the audience - that is the audience envisaged by Stijl - to a very special group.

The name Brikkekiks possibly brings to mind the croaking of frogs, in much the same way as the word ‘Torenbouw’ will remind many of us of the Tower of Babel in Genesis.

But there is more. Another, again literary, code-indicator has been worked into the title. ‘Batrachia’, Frog-country, has a certain ironic connotation. So the reader knows with a probability which approaches certainty that particular data which refer to social reality have been translated through some conversion or change into the sphere of irony.

Admittedly, the code in question is strictly literary; however it finds its foundation in the language of daily intercourse in everyday usage. The exaggerations and charges, the understatements and hidden allusions, and especially the conversions into analogous or seemingly analogous figures, images and persons all belong to this code. Together with a few other literary form elements they constitute what is called ‘satire’. Satiric drama appears in two forms: one in which the victim of a conspiracy figures as the tragic hero, and in which therefore the opposite party is satirized, and one in which the hero is the object of the satire. This latter is satiric comedy, the form that Stijl chose for his work. The comic hero, or rather heroes are at once introduced to the reader in the first act, first scene. They are the bailiff and his wife.

Which code-indicators confront the bourgeoisie reader of 1788 here? First of all the name ‘Krabbekwaad’. ‘Krabben’ is etymologically related to ‘kribben’, and in the sixteenth century and possibly later still, meant ‘kijven, krakelen’Ga naar eind5.. Undoubtedly ‘Krabbekwaad’ is of Stijl's own make. We may also think of the words ‘kribbekat’ and ‘kribbebijter’Ga naar eind6. in this context. ‘Habstenoer’ I would translate as ‘Had-je-ons-maar’ or ‘Had-je-je zin-maar’, with the connotation of ‘Dat zou je wel willen!’.

The relation between the couple strikes us by its sharp delineation. The woman is German, of higher birth than the bailiff and, what is more important, she lords it over him, tyrannizes him, whom she thinks too familiar, too much degrading himself, too much of a dipsomaniac, and whom she calls

a ‘kinkel’, a ‘zotskap’ and a ‘gek’Ga naar eind7.. In quick strokes Stijl sketches two characters, caricatures if you wish, who are clearly recognizable. Even to us twentieth-century readers the symbols used are so evident that it is not difficult to decode them. I must however remark here, and indeed for good reasons, that in saying so I presuppose in the reader not only some vague knowledge of the historical situation of 1787, but also some familiarity with the underground literature of those days. The portraits in question are of the standard type in the pamphlets, the satiric poems and the periodicals.

Prompted by ‘Batrachia’ in the title and the ironic tone the reader has immediately recognized the stadtholder and his Prussian wife Wilhelmina in the bailiff and Madame Krabbekwaad. We must now consider how the various code-signs are interrelated and what their effect is. That means to say, we shall have to examine them first in their referential nature in as far as we can. Even in as short a text as the first scene we find three kinds, roughly speaking: a. the purely referential elements; b. the purely fictitious elements; c. the mixed types. The distinction is much too crude: the text offers more scope than this. But this distinction provides a framework for the satiric coding.

Purely referential are to my mind some of the Bailiff's replies, although I cannot prove it. I refer to his ‘Pardon, maman, pardonnez-moi!’ and a little later in the first scene ‘Ah! pardonnez-moi, maman, je n'en scais rien!’ These expressions, just as ‘Schwermuth!’ an exclamation the Bailiff's wife seems to favour, in all probability are well-known formulas used by Willem and Wilhelmina and considered to be typical. Another referential element is Willem's constant use of the wine bottle. Stijl nowhere presents him as a drunkard as do the pamphlets without exception, nor does he make him a whore-monger. Nevertheless.

Definitely referential is Wilhelmina's intensive interference in public affairs, at least after 1784Ga naar eind8.. Evidence to this are her letters to Van de Spiegel, her Considérations sur la lettre de Mr. de Rayneval à Mr. le comte de Goertz of 1786 and her insistance that Willem should publish his Déclaratoir on May 26th 1787Ga naar eind9.. Her interference is put into a fictitious framework: there is question of building a tower and of the number of workers instead of a new government and of troops; there is talk of the direct influence exerted by doctor Bistortus and Reverend Guichelheil on the plans of the tower. Here the question is, whether Stijl had

definite persons in mind when he made these two personages enter the scene. There was a certain Johannes Isaac Guicherit who was court minister at the stadtholder's court in 1781 and later. Is it a coincidence that Guicherit and Guichelheil both start by ‘Guich-’ a root related with ‘goochelen’ which meant grimacing, gibing, but also fooling?Ga naar eind10.. The contemporary reader will not have had any problem in solving this puzzle. Precisely this syllable ‘guich-’ was for him a codesign which was to be completed later in the play by a series of more definite data about the minister, such as his ignominious flattery of the bailiff's wife, his shrewd intriguing with Bistortus and the Advocate, his lusty and unambiguous flirting with the ‘malade imaginaire’, the widow Fijnepijn. Possibly his partner, Doctor Bistortus, presented no difficulties to the readers of 1788, for us however all the more so. The name is transparent: Bistortus is he who is distorted, or, he who has changed sides twice, - but is he in reality the Prince's court physician? The Almanach de la Cour names professor Velsen as ‘médecin ordinaire’ for 1787, and as ‘médecin de la cour’ both a certain doctor Onymos and a doctor D'Estandeau, and as ‘court surgeons’ F.A. Schenck and D. Eyckendael. It was possible that the code word Bistortus was a revelation to the contemporaries that might lead to the identification of the person meant. For us it remains guess-work: in my opinion Bistortus is a reference to the court surgeon who accompanied Willem V for 25 years on almost all his travels and did not desert him on his flight to England and later still to Oranienburg: Albert, or more fully, Friedrich Albert Schenck, called Albert to distinguish him from his brother Friedrich Carl, the master of the horse at the Prince's court. But I have not enough evidence to be able to assert that nickname Bistortus - in the sense of twister - applies to him.

In this fictitious framework both the doctor and the minister play another special part. In my opinion Stijl selected these two dignitaries for yet another good reason. We know that he had written several comedies: De Vryer na de Kunst and Krispyn Filozoof (1754). He was well acquainted with the taste of the day and knew what types were successful in his time. There can be no doubt that among these types must be counted the doctor, the lawyer and the bigot, the hypocrite. In the personages of Guichelheil, Bistortus and the Advocate Stijl recalls these well-known types through their quasierudition, their dog Latin and pomposity. Again he makes use

of a familiar literary code by which these figures immediately are turned into caricatures, even before they have blurted out the greatest nonsense - a thing they certainly do. Of course they converse in terms like ‘Nos kennimus nos..’ - Ons kent ons, and the doctor recommends the minister's ‘oleum naturale’ which he always carries on his person, for the cure of the widow. Just a sample of Bistortus's language which may also prove that Stijl wants to present him as a surgeon:

Mijn praktijk, Mevrouw, valt bijzonder in een chirurgaalen smaak: amputeeren, extirpeeren, corrodeeren; ik weet niet hoe het komt, daar heb ik, al zeg ik het zelf, eene meesterlijke hand van; en dat zal hier in fallor, noodzaakelijk zijn. Maar het kwaad moet met wortel en tak uitgeroeid worden. En gelijk wij, in onze Praktijk een regel hebben: Cito, tuto, et jucunde, zo dunkt me, dat deeze regel hier op het politieke bij uitnemendheid applicaabel is. Mij dunkt, die braave menschen, daar mijn Heer de Advokaat flusjes van gesproken heeft, zullen zonder moeite gedisponeerd worden, om dat redeneerend gespuis, met alle zijn pligtmaatige harssenschimmen te verstrooien, te verjaagen, hunne wooningen, anderen ten Exempel te slechten, en dus het heilloos Vuur van Tweedragt voor eeuwig te blusschen. Dit kan buiten tegenspraak schielijk en veilig geschieden. Dan het laatste lid van onzen regel, lieflijk of aangenaam zal mogelijk iets ontbreken; maar wij hebben ook een anderen regel, die dit wederom afdoet: Duro modo, durus eminens. Dixi.

All this reinforces the images of the suspicious characters of Bistortus, Guichelheil and the Advocate, but we should not forget that from the very beginning, by their configuration, they were known as such to the spectator or reader. Stijl made a clever use of this, because by the laughable atmosphere around their supporters, the bailiff and his wife are themselves drawn into the ridiculous. And of course Stijl omits nothing to encourage this. He makes Guichelheil call Madame Krabbekwaad ‘Adorable Deborah’, a title she regularly has in the pamphlets of both partiesGa naar eind11.. In other words, a code word. Whether Reverend Guicherit was the first to have used this title for her? Twice over the bailiff's wife reply in the play is the name ‘Boanerges’,

Sons of Thunder, for Guichelheil and Bistortus. Is this again a code word? It is not our aim to evaluate all evidence of coding in the play. The more important referentiel types are the following:

Madame Krabbekwaad's arrest, when she is on an inspection tour of the tower. The event is not shown, but told by Stotterzot to Guichelheil, Bistortus and the Advocate while they are in Madame Fijnepijn's house to elaborate the plans for the demolition of the old tower. Stotterzot then says:

St.	:	Potstauzend, ich hatte die Ehre mit meiner genaediger Frau zu spantsieren bis dem alten Thurm. Ihre Genade wollte inspection machen van es terrain das man for de neuwen sollte menagieren. Man was geschaade? Schwermuth!
Adv.	:	Vaar voort, mijn Heer.
St.	:	Ich kann es nichmahlen vergessen.
Bist.	:	Zo veel te beter kan je 't verhaalen!
St.	:	Ich kan nicht. Liever Frau Fainpain, haaben zie noch einmahl vom Keulenaartgen? (Before she has offered him a glass of gin. She now pours him a second one.)
Adv.	:	Is Mevrouw door de Gezwooren waakers, of zogenaamde rustwaarders, geïnsulteerd?
St.	:	Insultiert? Arrestiert! lieber Herren! Ihr haaben's recht!

The worst of all is felt to be that this could happen to a Habstenoer. To a Krabbekwaad, well, that would be another matter.. Widow Fijnepijn then whispers to the minister, her lover: Zou Mevrouw dat gezocht hebben? To which the minister: Betje, gij hebt eer van dien inval!

The second clearly referential point and at the same time one of the satiric climaxes in the play is the satisfaction. It can be reduced to three points: the oath of allegiance and subjection to Krabbekwaad-Habstenoer, the financial support of the new plans of the government, and the recompenses to be paid to Madame's Prussian brother.

Finally the arrest and the satisfaction quickly lead to the conclusion, when the bailiff, after having been ‘tackled’ by Vossestraat, and when apparently all is going to be wrong, hackles his wife in reply at her question:

Mad. Kr.	:	Hoe is't, lieve Man?
Bail.	:	Hoe is't lieve Man? Versmoorde Karonje! 't is jouw schuld dat alles hier zo scheef gaat. Wat verstand heb jij van dit volk te regeeren? Adelijke slons! Zo je mij met deeze goeje lui liet omgaan, met de meisjes knaknilis en met de jongens Blindemannetje speulen, dan hadden we noit verschil. Daar leit nou het mooie Bal, de Diergaarde, de toren cum annexis, straks verzink je met al die horlement voor den duivel...

The ‘remotie’ is a code word too. It stands for the removal from government bodies of persons favouring the enemy. It is used often and with eagerness by the Bailiff, but also by his wife and her helpers. As if they are all in love with the sound of the word alone.

Another purely referential code word is ‘Sint-Nicolaas-Vrolijkheid’, however strange this may appear. To illustrate this first the context. The second act takes place in Madame Fijnepijn's house, the minister's mistress. It is St. Nicholas' Eve and between serious business the preparations are made for the celebration of the national feast. It is going to be a joyful evening, first a supper, and later a ball with the Bailiff and his wife as guests of honour.

The business discussed is of course connected with the construction of the new tower. From the discussions, especially between the minister and the doctor, it appears that both despise the Bailiff. But on their way up they can hardly afford to by-pass Madame Krabbekwaad-Habstenoer. When Stotterzot comes in to tell of her arrest, the atmosphere quickly changes. It is best formulated by the alderman Vossestaart in the seventh scene of the second act, just when the minister and the widow prepare themselves for ‘a roll in the hay’ in her alcove and in what she calls her ‘lit d'ange’.

Voss.

Triomf! Triomf!. Mevrouw, Mijnheer!. Sta je hier zo bedremmeld? naar buiten! naar buiten! de teerling is aan't rollen, de toren legt'er al. Bij St. Nikolaas! het wordt tijd, zo je nog iets van de vrolijkheid wilt zien. Vuurslag wordt geplonderd, Stillewacht is haasop.

The unsuspecting reader may assume that Stijl calls up the atmosphere of St. Nicholas'Eve for variety's sake or for embellishment: the insider and bourgeoisie patriot recalled in the code word one of the patriotic grievances against the stadtholder. It was said that on Dec. 4th 1782 Willem V had bribed some ruffians in the neighbourhood of the palace with 72 golden ‘rijders’ and a golden cup to create some riots on St. Nicholas'Eve of that year, to insult and provoke the patriots and damage or destroy their possessions.

It can clearly be seen how subtly Stijl controls his coding. All through the second act runs the line of St. Nicholas'Eve it must have had a very unpleasant connotation for the patriot reader. For it was he who realized how much suffering there had been after the arrest of the Princess; how much blood had been shed; how many houses had been ransacked, how many people had fled across the border. The ‘Sinterklaasvrolijkheid’ of 1782 was in no way proportional to that of 1787; but it supplied a code word with a strong allusive effect.

I have come now to a final referential element, the number seven for the aldermen. It is a code sign of a totally different nature from the previous ones, that referred to historical events. The number seven serves to prevent a misconception or rectify it if, and in so far as, it exists. It signifies that Brikkekiks should not be thought of as a place in Frog Country, The Hague for example, which would be understandable, for the Princess was on her way there. Nor is it Amsterdam or the province of Holland. It is an indication for the entire country, the Seven United Netherlands. Of these seven three were clearly pro-stadtholder, viz. Zeeland, Utrecht and Gelderland. Three provinces were anti-stadtholder, namely Holland, Groningen and Overijsel, while Friesland alternated between the two parties. The appointment of an eighth alderman by Madame Krabbekwaad-Habstenoer was to create a favourable configuration of votes for the Bailiff in the hamlet. Obviously in the Republic of the Seven United Netherlands it was out of the question to have a representation of an eighth party. But Stijl introduces Stotterzot, a German footman as the eighth alderman. Thus by various traits he refers to the man whom Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia had sent to The Hague to try and mediate between the orangists and the patriots. His name was Count Von Goertz. It was he who was to be asked by the Dutch Regents whether his superior was wont to negotiate with his servants (!), thus implying a direct allusion to the dependent position of the stadtholder. This German ‘footman’

sent by Friedrich Wilhelm was the model for the jibbering Stotterzot, who from the dramatic point of view has many associates among the ‘moffen’, ‘poepen’, ‘denen’ and ‘drenten’ of the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century comedies and farces. With this the figure of Stotterzot is not yet entirely exhausted. William V was accused of influencing the distribution of votes in city councils: in Hattem the magistrate had wanted to admit to the council the well-known patriot and democrat Daendels, while the Prince had appointed someone else. The Hattem drama of 1786 speaks of a bodyguard of the stadtholder, in pamphlets a valet is mentioned. The introduction of a ‘footman’ in the Hattem council has left its impression on the play by Stijl in the figure of the eighth alderman.

I have already had the opportunity to point out how subtly Stijl handles his coding. In the meantime, from the interconnections between the various codes and from the fact that the different code-words refer to several things or events simultaneously, the conclusion must be drawn that Stijl's satire has a subtler intention than just to point to events around the Princess's arrest in a satirical and derisive way.

In comparison I go back to the two other dramas I had at my disposal. The Hattem tragedy Willem de Vyfde of de Wraakgierige does not go beyond the events in 1786 in and around that town. The names of the personages are all but one historical; naturally, the picture of William, the villain in the drama, is distorted. The Nijmegen-Amersfoort piece Willem en Willemyntje limits itself to the arrest; the personages can be reduced directly to historical persons.

Not so with Stijl. In his Torenbouw he gave expression to his vision on Willem's policy in general, in as much as he had learnt to despise it. This makes his play more abstract, almost symbolic. I shall give a short review of my arguments for this:

Stijl presents the reader with code-signs that refer to events from 1782 to the spring of 1788, a period of 6 years. This is not an arbitrary choice. As late as 1781 Stijl wrote his eulogy of the stadtholder. Shortly afterwards, and in any case before the ‘Sinterklaasvrolijkheid’ of 1782 he must have reversed his views. The period between 1782 and 1788 covers the time that Stijl was anti-stadtholder.

The figures in Stijl's piece belong to different milieus and social cercles, yet they are incorporated into an integral, rigid, fictitious framework, the government of Brikkekiks. Guichelheil and Bistortus I have already mentioned; they are figures from the environment of the stadtholder's court. The lawyer resembles Van de Spiegel, Grand Pensionary to Zeeland before 1787 and after to Holland. Although the seven aldermen represent the seven provinces, it is not true that Stijl has chosen any single figure just to represent any single province. At least that is my interpretation. Admittedly Wolbaal stands for the pensionary of Dordrecht, De Gijzelaar. Dordrecht was known as the commercial centre for wool even in the Middle Ages. Rondhout must be Hooft, Mayor of Amsterdam, for whom Stijl had a great admiration and whom he praised as the democratic regent par excellence in a special poem12.. Vossestaart can hardly be anyone else but Van Bleiswijck, because of his part in the play. These three personages symbolize the different attitudes in the regents' opposition against the stadtholder. But they are all three Hollanders. I cannot interpret the other aldermen, my knowledge of the attitudes of the regents in the other provinces being insufficient. In other words: I no longer understand the code-signs that are certainly hidden in the text and must have been easy to interpret for contemporaries. I think I recognize Capellen van der Marsch in Vuurslag, but I would like to leave it at that guess.

There is another argument of a completely different nature. Stijl abstracted his play from reality by giving it a perspective which in 1788 was not justified by reality. Towards the end of the play William is literally tackled and lifted from his throne by Vossestaart. It is obvious that this is a purely imaginary motif, for it points to the future. One might call it utopian: in it Stijl's hopes and those of his contemporaries who shared his views, are given expression. As yet they live in oppression, the tyrant, traitor of the people and revengeful, can still give full reins to his whims. However... there will be another time and possibly in the near future; and maybe Van Bleiswijck will play an important part in that time, the man who was allowed to remain in office, even while he was a member of the opposing party.

Stijl had no way of expecting his utopian guess to come true so soon, even if Vossestaart would not figure in it. One is inclined to think of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Furthermore Stijl's optimistic vision, to use that expression, is connected with some other elements in the comedy. First we have the ‘Torenbouw’, the construction of the tower. Towards the end of the play we hear the stadtholder himself complain that the ‘tower-cum-annexis’ ... ‘er leit’, i.e. has gone to pieces. But this was put into the play from the very beginning. The reader was more or less forced to associate the ‘Torenbouw’ with the tower of Babel and thereby could hardly suppose anything better than that the whole enterprise would fail.
That splendid tower, capped with porcelain and provided with a golden plate with the Bailiff's and his wife's inscriptions in rubies - the colour of the blood! - all that would have been so beautiful.. But it looked a little too much like the tower that was supposed to reach into the very heavens.
Finally there is the correspondence between Stijl's perspective and Madame Krabbekwaad's name ‘Habstenoer’, meaning ‘Had je maar wat je wou!’ (If only you had what you wanted!) This again incorporates the failure of the Princess's magnificent plans.

In my opinion these arguments taken from Stijl's coding show that his satire aimed at a higher objective than most of the political and satirical dramas. Unmistakable is his attempt to join together the events between 1782 and 1788 and motivate by them a total rejection of the stadtholder's regime. Unmistakable too are the expectation of the future and the prophecy. The moment has come to conclude the subject; I would do this by asking a question: Is the Torenbouw a successful satire? We have no data of performances; performances are even very unlikely to have taken place.

If we take the text as such as our starting-point, the answer will not be ours to give. As I said before the satire derives its ethical value entirely from the norms and codes prevalent in the source-field. Its esthetic value is determined by the extent to which the author has succeeded in matching the social codes of the community and its literary codes. On the one hand the author has to make sure that the references to reality - such as the community experience it - come across

by using clear signs; on the other hand the reader or spectator must get the opportunity to play the intellectual game with the truth-concealed-in-words.

The esthetic value peculiar of satire is both its strength as well as its weakness. For outside the community of its sphere of origin a satire runs the risk of being wrongly understood, or hardly or nor at all. Non-community members and certainly non-contemporaries fall short of knowing the social codes: by this they are equally incapable of evaluating the literary-coding. All this applies more or less to us when we would try to evaluate Stijl's Torenbouw esthetically.

In addition to what has been said above, there is a literary. sociological inference to be made about satire in general. I mean that we ought to get a clearer notion of the variables introduced, if satire is made to function in an alien sphere e.g., with non-contemporaries. They possibly come to appreciate one thing or another in it, but just because satire is such a strictly coded form and is so utterly dependent on the source-field, many things will escape their attention and they will be inclined to seek out such elements as they can easily understand and that are universal in effect.

But satires are not judged by such criteria.

Let us leave the esthetic evaluation and consider whether a literary-sociological appreciation is possible: in this case I am of the opinion that we are actually capable of assessing the function of the play in the situation of 1788, at least as it was intended by the author.

After the temporary defeat of the patriots, especially by the military intervention of the Prussian king Friedrich Wilhelm, - therefore at a for the patriots very dark moment - Stijl launched his play. The antagonism against Willem V and Princess Wilhelmina was reinforced by this, not in the least because Stijl places the scene of action for the political intrigues in a frog town, that is in a backyard ditch. By blowing up the stadtholder's policy to the utmost ridiculous through a skilful use of parody, suggestion and especially allusion, he manages to excite and intensify the feelings of his community to such a degree that they accept his presenting them with the exile and overthrow of the tyrants. Thus Stijl aims at the catharsis which is proper to all satire, viz. a feeling of relaxation and deliverance, now that the anti-heroes in all their simplicity and slyness,

their common meanness, have been demasked and helplessly delivered to contempt and derision. Hatred, disgust and bitterness finally yield to a feeling of satisfaction, now that the tyrants have been humiliated, and a feeling of happy expectation, now that a vista has been shown with a new perspectiveGa naar eind13..

In conclusion I shall try to resume the most important points I made, in terms of the sociological jargon.

1.	Stijl's drama had its function in social change, that is to say, it was a means to confirm the community's common wish for radical change in the shared control in government, a means too of stimulating mutual fighting spirit and determination, to strengthen one another's feelings and possibly impress others. R.K. Merton speaks of ‘manifest function’ in a case like this (as opposed to latent function). He defines it as ‘objective consequence contributing to adjustment or adaptation of the system which is intended and recognized by participants in the system’Ga naar eind14.. Precisely this last point is so evidently true of satire: one should only compare what was said about the coding.
2.	Whenever Stijl's drama was played or read in a group, this event took on the nature of a collective ritual, a ‘happening’, in which the communal feelings through their mutual perception were raised to a collective catharsis of great intensity. André Decouflé speaks of such an event as one of those ‘mécanismes où se fabrique consciemment due social’Ga naar eind15..
3.	On the basis of what is said in 1. and 2. the Torenbouw is to be considered as a social feedback-mechanism, viz. a social pre-condition that made possible and precipitated the changes that Stijl and his community so intensely sought.

N. Wijngaards

eind1.: Also on the title page: Willem en Willemyntje, koning en koningin der Schoppen, etc.

eind2.: In the Provincial Library of Friesland at Leeuwarden.

eind3.: It is neither probable that the play was printed or enacted after 1795, due to the profound change in political circumstances.

eind4.: Pierre Bourdieu, Elements for a Theory of Art Perception, Revue Internat. des sciences sociales, 1968. In German in: Zur Soziologie der symbolischen Formen, Frankfurt 1970, p. 159 e.v.

eind5.: Scolding, wrangling.

eind6.: A scratch-cat, a shrew.

eind7.: A lout, a fool, a madman.

eind8.: Cfr. G.W. Vreede, Fr. S. Wilhelmina, gemalin van den Stadhouder Willem V, en Laurens Pieter van de Spiegel, Utrecht, 1868; also: J.W.A. Naber, Prinses Wilhelmina, Amsterdam, 1908.

eind9.: See note 8 and also: H.T. Colenbrander, De Patriottentijd, dl. III, 1786-1787, 's-Gravenhage, 1899, en P. Geyl, De Patriottenbeweging 1780-1787, Amsterdam, 1947 and Studies en Strijdschriften, Groningen, 1958.

eind10.: Compare also: ‘de guig aansteken’ = to fool someone; the name ‘guichelheil’ must also have called up associations with ‘huichelen’ = feigning; huichelaar = hypocrite. The name guichelheil for a small plant with blue flowers must have some connection with the roots mentioned, but I do not know its etymology.

eind11.: E.g. compare the notorious Smeekschrift aan Neerlands Deborah, Brussel, J.P. de la Croix, 1788.

eind12.: Aan Hendrik Hooft Danielsz. wegens den 26 Februari 1787, Knuttel, nr. 21630 a.

eind13.: Cfr. N.C.H. Wijngaards, The function of the audience in satiric drama, N.Tg. LXIV, 1971, p. 1.

eind14.: R.K. Merton, Social theory and social structure, 1957; J.A. van Doorn en C.J. Lammers, Moderne Sociologie, Systematiek en analyse, Utrecht-Antwerpen, 1964, p. 216 e.v.

eind15.: André Decouflé, Sociologie des Revolutions, Paris, 1970, p. 115.

Vorige Volgende

Documentatieblad werkgroep Achttiende eeuw. Jaargang 1972

Some sociological aspects of Simon Stijl's ‘De Torenbouw van Brikkekiks in het landschap Batrachia’.

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