Lies and Deceit
One of the central themes explored in the play rests with the network of lies within which the characters lives are built. This theme emerges as early as the play's first scene, when Gregers comes home to find that Hialmar's wife was once a servant in his father’s house and rumored to at one point have been his father’s mistress. Gregers' suspicions of deception on his father's part only deepen when he notices the coincidences of Gina's photography skills and Hialmar's choice to pursue photography upon Werle's urging.
As the play progresses, more and more lies pile on top of each other to the climactic breaking points contained in Act 4 and Act 5. In part knowingly and in part unwittingly, the Ekdal family has surrounded themselves with lies and lived as if everything was normal: for example, the whole family ignores Old Ekdal's drunkenness; Gina does not tell Hialmar of her own past; and Old Ekdal lives in the garret and dons his old uniform as if nothing has happened.
Importantly, though the lies in the play are a combination of serious and light deception, Ibsen offers no commentary on them until Relling introduces his ideas towards the end of Act 3. We are meant to witness the everyday and more serious lies ourselves and determine whether they strike us as unacceptable or commonplace; moreover, regardless of how we feel about lies in the play, we are made to interrogate these feelings more deeply, questioning whether it is the consequence of the lie or the lie itself that is more damaging. This is particularly evident in the fact that, by the play's end, we are still unsure of Hedvig's true paternity. This particular lie damaged no one at the outset and produced limited consequences, but knowledge of it at the play's end causes Hialmar to go on the tirade that will eventually precipitate Hedvig's death.
Sickness
Another theme developed in the play is sickness, both literal and figurative. In the play, there are two characters that are facing encroaching blindness: Hedvig Ekdal and Håkon Werle. This illness is a progressive one, and both Hedvig and Werle are so affected by their illness that they limit their outside interactions and confine themselves to an isolated home life (note in Werle's case that he wants to move to the Höidal works with Mrs. Sörby for this purpose).
The theme of sickness is common in literary realism, and it is particularly common in many of Ibsen’s plays. Here, however, note that the illness in question is also a metaphorical one, one which implies that Hedvig and Werle cannot see clearly the world around them. Hedvig is too innocent to be able to see the bad in people—especially Gregers, who is able to manipulate her naiveté with his idealism—and Werle is initially too preoccupied with greed and selfishness to note the severe consequences that his deceptive acts will have on people.
Importantly, note here that illness is not used as a proxy or stand-in for karmic consequence or fate: in fact, Hialmar thinks that this is initially the case when he learns of Werle's illness, but his focus soon shifts to the fact that it may portend something far more significant about Hedvig and her paternity. Rather, here illness is used as a debilitating condition that separates one from the world and the others around them. In this regard, one does well to ask about the extent to which the Ekdals may be infected with a kind of figurative or perhaps literal illness of their minds, one of denialism born from rejection and shame.
The Ideal of Honor
Recall that when Ibsen wrote The Wild Duck, he took inspiration from Johan Sebastian Welhaven's poem "Søfuglen," a poem about a wild duck that, after being shot by a hunter, sinks to the bottom of the sea and dies in order to avoid a false and artificial captivity. As we know, this is the source of the play's main symbol, with Old Ekdal, Hialmar, and Hedvig sitting in for the duck—creatures that have been injured by a hunter (Werle) that, unlike the duck of the poem, were unable to sink to the bottom due to the support and salvation they have been receiving from Werle himself. Gregers Werle believes that their salvation at the hands of the man who injured them in the first place is dishonorable, and this is the motivation that drives him to undo the entirety of the Ekdal's family life. As mentioned, however, we are certainly meant to question and interrogate Gregers's idealism in the play, not only through Relling's explicit rebuttal but also through the event of Hedvig's death. What honor, for example, was lost by Hedvig in being happy with her life, when she had little to do with Werle at all and only wanted to maintain her family's structure, despite her burgeoning awareness that things are not all that they should be (note her nascent understanding of the question of her paternity in Act 4)? At the same time, however, in the question of Hedvig's suicide, might she have not chosen an approach similar to the wild duck of the poem and to Gregers, shedding her dishonorable and dissatisfying life in order to free herself from its restraints? A great deal is left unresolved at the play's end, but chief among them is the question of how infectious the ideal of honor truly has become for the Ekdal family.
Class Tension and Class Conciousness
A more minor theme in the play that is nonetheless important for fully understanding its context and events is that of class and class tensions. In Act 1 and Act 2, we see just how wide the chasm between wealthy and poor truly is, with Hialmar seeming uncultured at the Werle's party and, afterwards, in how he discusses the snobbery of the chamberlains from the party with his family. Though Hialmar is thankful to Werle for all that he has been given in life, he still harbors an air of pride and resentment towards the idea that he is dependent on Werle for everything. This is why, initially, Gina hides Werle's support of Old Ekdal from Hialmar, and this is also why Hialmar spends a great deal of time thinking about his invention—ostensibly meant to rescue his family from poverty and their dependence on others. The play's portrait of Old Ekdal is certainly rather sympathetic and conciliatory, but in its portrait of Hialmar, we see a realistic portrayal of the way that wealth and finances can restrain one's life and imagination. As an example of just how strong the grip of money is on the Ekdals, consider the fact that Hialmar rips up the gift of deed in Act 4, but after greater consideration, decides in Act 5 that he will contradict his own newfound ideals and repair the deed for his father and daughter.
Family and Heredity
Family is at the center of The Wild Duck, but so is the question of what we inherit from our family and those above us. Of course, in a literal sense, heredity in the play is inextricably linked to the question of illness and the question of Hedvig's paternity, but it is also a more minor level tied to what we figuratively inherit from those who came before us. In a tangible sense, think here of when Werle tells Gregers in Act 3 that he has inherited a "sickly" conscience from his mother (52). Especially compared to the near estrangement of Gregers' relationship with his father, the idea that Gregers has inherited ways of thinking from his mother is striking and allows the Werle family unit to coalesce a bit more, even if it is in the absence of the mother. In the case of the Ekdals, then, think of how Hialmar initially inherited the shame of his father, almost taking his own life with the same pistol as his father when Old Ekdal contemplated suicide. Think also of how Hedvig has been made to inherit the burden of her grandfather's shame, as well as the despondency and sadness of her father. When people in a family are as close as the Ekdals, they must share their emotions in an alternative kind of heredity—whether or not this is for the best (as, towards the beginning of the play, when they are able to lie their burdens to rest for a moment and enjoy Hialmar's flute playing) or for worse (as in Hedvig's ultimate fate) is a matter of circumstance. What remains true in each case, however, is the fact that one is unable to escape their family's influence, and this produces the ripple effect within the Ekdal family that leads to the family's ruin after the single disturbance of Gregers'
revelations to Hialmar.
The Importance of the Past
One other question that sits at the heart of The Wild Duck concerns the importance of the past: is the past a haunting, inescapable force that shapes our lives and futures, or is it something that can be ignored and moved on from? The play offers us conflicting evidence on this point: on the one hand, we have the Ekdals, who are able to move on from their past and bury it happily, treasuring the present state of their family and looking forward to the future; on the other hand, we have Gregers, who in his unyielding pursuit of perfection and ideals, is willing to let the past shackle him and others until he has confronted it and seen its truth. Ultimately, the degree to which the past and knowledge of the past destroys the Ekdal family seems to suggest that the past is inescapable in its power, but one also must consider the fact that the Ekdals were initially able to ignore it. Can life be worth living if it ignores the fundamental questions of the past and of origins?
Society, Outer Life, and the Rumor Mill
A key divide that also emerges in the play is the distinction between one's outer and inner lives. In the case of the former, note how much credence in the play is given to keeping up appearances, maintaining social obligations, and avoiding rumors. Hialmar, for example, maintains the illusion that he is busy, but he mostly dawdles with his father in the garret. Mr. Werle wants to marry Mrs. Sörby because of the rumors that might otherwise emerge if they just go on cohabiting. Werle invites Gregers back to town so that he can keep up the image of a filial son who supports the new marriage of his father. These are just a few examples: many characters in the play allow societal pressure to define them and wholly shape the way they live their lives. On the other hand, note that in pretty much every instance, the conduct of one's private life notably contradicts or subverts their public life. This is especially the case for Gina, who plays the devoted wife but hides her past; Hialmar, who secretly wants to be free and avoid the responsibilities of being part of the working class; and Old Ekdal, who hides in the garret to escape the reality that he has been deprived of his life's meaning. In each case, the tension between one's inner and outer lives eventually lends itself to the blow-up that occurs at the play's end, but one must question whether contradictory public and private lives are tenable if they are able to be kept separate. This is what Relling suggests to us, and it is what the beginning of the play seems to depict, but again, it is up to readers to decide whether truth and openness is a more valuable pursuit than stability or normalcy.
