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Content THE FEMINIZATION OF FAILURE IN AMERICAN HISTORIOGRAPHY:
THE CASE OF THE INVISIBLE DRAMA IN THE
LIFE OF HAMLIN GARLAND (1860-1940)
by
Mark William Rocha
A D issertatio n P resen ted to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In P a rtia l F ulfillm ent o f the
R equirem ents for th e D egree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(English)
April 1988
C opyright 1988 Mark William Rocha
UMI Number: DP23135
All rights reserved
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a note will indicate the deletion.
Dissertation Publishing
UMI DP23135
Published by ProQuest LLC (2014). Copyright in the Dissertation held by the Author.
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P.O. Box 1346
Ann Arbor, M l 48106 - 1346
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY PARK
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90089
This dissertation, written by
MARK WILLIAM ROCHA
under the direction of h.™....... Dissertation
Committee, and approved by all its members,
has been presented to and accepted b y The
Graduate School, in partial fulfillm ent of re
quirements for the degree of
PhD
E
D O C TO R OF PHILOSOPH Y
Dean of G raduate Studies
DISSERTATION COMMITTEE
The fa c t is th e sw eetest dream th a t labor knows.
R obert F ro st, "Mowing"
. — ....
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
One o f th e g re a t pleasures o f com pleting this d issertatio n is th e
o pportunity it provides to thank those whose help was indispensable.
My deep est g ra titu d e goes to P rofessor Ronald G ottesm an, my d issertatio n
jdirector. His teaching stim u lated my in te re st in A m erican lite ra tu re o f this
jperiod, and his early encouragem ent o f my in te re st in scholarly editing wasj
jinstrum ental in launching this study. I have relied on his p a tie n t and generousj
assistan ce throughout.
I also thank th e o th e r m em bers of my co m m ittee for th e ir ex cellen t
advice. P rofessor R o b ert G rant o ffered helpful suggestions a t various stag es
which m ade this study b e tte r, and P rofessor Moshe L azar provided th e b en efit
o f his ex p ertise in th e dram a. I thank as w ell P rofessor L uther L uedtke and
Professor Thom as G ustafson for th e ir guidance a t th e early stag e o f th is p ro ject.
I am extrem ely g ra te fu l to th e s ta ff o f th e A m erican L ite ra tu re C ollection
o f th e Doheny L ibrary of th e U niversity of Southern C alifornia. Mr. Loss G lazier,
C u rato r, and Mr. M ichael C ropper, B ibliographer, w ere unfailingly gracious;
and helpful in m aking th e H am lin G arland Papers available to me. I
i
I especially thank Ham lin G arland's daughters, Mrs. Isabel G arland Lord:
i :
and Mrs. C onstance G arland Doyle, for w elcom ing m e and allow ing me accessj
to th e ir many docum ents relatin g to H am lin G arland. A special d eb t o f gratitude;
is owed Mrs. V ictoria D oyle-Jones, th e granddaughter of H am lin G arland, whoj
has been extrao rd in arily kind in seeing to it th a t I had every possible resource^
for my work.
Finally, I thank B arbara Louise C allen d er, my w ife. She has been my
p a rtn e r in this p ro ject in sharing th e joy of discovery. Our hours a t th e kitchen
tab le w restling w ith th e m any challenges o f th is d issertatio n have been much)
i
o f th e fun. To her, loving thanks.________________ '
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
The F em inization o f th e F ailure of A m erican D ram a
PART ONE
THE DRAMA IN THE LIFE OF HAMLIN GARLAND
CHAPTER TWO
The Child of M elodram a 1860-1887
CHAPTER THREE
'R ealism 's Advance Man 1887-1892
( c h a p t e r FOUR
'Lost in a N orther: G arland's W ilderness Y ears 1893-1916
( c h a p t e r FIVE
An A postle of A ntim odernism 1917-1940
PART TWO
A SELECTED EDITION OF HAMLIN GARLAND'S
PLAYS AND DRAMA CRITICISM WITH A
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL DESCRIPTION OF PLAY MANUSCRIPTS
CHAPTER SIX
T he T ufts L ectu re (1885): "Edwin Booth as a M aster of Expression"
j
jCHAPTER SEVEN
j"On th e Plays C urrent" (1889):
The R ise o f R ealism in th e A m erican D ram a
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rip Van Winkle (1927): The Sw eet D ream o f Id en tity
CHAPTER NINE
A D escriptive Bibliography of G arland's Play M anuscripts
APPENDIX
A C hronological Table o f G arland's Plays
and D ram a C riticism and Events
WORKS CITED AND CONSULTED
V
PREFACE
A NOTE ON EDITORIAL AND DOCUMENTARY PRACTICE
Shortly befo re he died in 1940, Hamlin G arland w illed th e bulk of hisj
papers to th e U niversity of Southern C alifornia. This archive is m assive and^
includes nearly all of th e m anuscripts for G arland's published fictio n , poetry,
i
jdrama, and criticism . Also, th e re a re hundreds of m anuscripts of unpublished^
w orks and lectu res, sixty-seven volum es o f personal notebooks and diaries, several
hundred photographs and pieces o f m em orabilia, and a correspondence o f over-
10,000 le tte rs . In sum , th e H am lin G arland P apers co n stitu te an ex trao rd in ary
and still relativ ely unexam ined resource for learning A m erican cu ltu ral history.
B ecause this d issertatio n relies so heavily on th e unpublished original docum ents
in th e H am lin G arland P apers and o th er rep o sito ries, as w ell as documents^
provided by G arland's tw o surviving daughters, it is p a rtic u la rly im p o rtan t for|
I
th e re a d er to know in advance how th ese docum ents and o th er sources will bei
i
i
presen ted and cited h ere. 1
All quotations appearing in P a rt I o f this d issertatio n from unpublished!
i
d iaries, notebooks, le tte rs , and m anuscripts—w ritte n by G arland or anyone!
!
else—a re expanded tran scrip tio n s as th is te rm has been re c e n tly described by|
M ary Jo-K line in A _ Guide to D ocum entary Editing {1987 125-29). Essentiallyj
th is m eans a co nservative e d ito rial policy has been adopted in which th e goal
has been to o ffer as lite ra l a tran scrip tio n as possible of w hat a w riter has
actu ally inscribed. Thus in quoted passages th e re a d er will n o tice erro rs in
spelling, punctuation, and gram m ar which he or she m ust rely are th e quoted
w rite r's and not th e ed ito r's; th e re is no use of [sic]. T here is, how ever, no
p re te n se th a t every in scrip tio n al d etail has been recorded, as in th e case of
can celled words or passages and in terlin eatio n s. But all e d ito ria l interpolations
a re in d icated by square b rack ets ([ ]), and e d ito rial om issions a re in d icated by
suspension points (. ..).
T here may be tim es th e read er will wish for a reg u larized , m ore heavily
c o rre c te d te x t for th e sake of speed of com prehension of c o n ten t. But the|
i I
|editorial policy here is less a product of fussiness th an a b elief th a t to a g re a t I
e x te n t form is co n ten t: how a w rite r handles w riting m echanics can be rev elato ry J
M ore sp ecifically, in G arland's case no lite ra l tran scrip tio n of his unpublished
jwritings has ever been produced. The G arland we have now exists solely ini
p ristin e, c o rre cted , published volum es. Much of th e value of this d isse rta tio n 1
!
re s ts upon o ffering insight to G arland's com position process. F urtherm ore,;
i :
jthe ed ito r who would em end G arland's unpublished w ritings is a t p a rtic u la r peril;
1 '
o f concealing G arland's use of d ialect, a c e n tra l asp ect of G arland's aesth etic;
p rogram . O ften it is d ifficu lt to decide betw een w hat is an "error" and whatj
is a conscious use of d ia le ct. In such cases, an ed ito r is w ell advised to make;
i i
G arland's inscription d irectly available to th e re ad er. j
j One fu rth er convention of in scriptional rep resen tatio n of quoted passagesj
I
I * • *
should be noted. G arland and o th ers freq u en tly used single long dashes m their;
m anuscripts, e.g. (— ). These are rep resen ted here in every in stan ce by double;
hyphens, e.g. (--). !
C itatio n s o f th e m aterials in th e G arland Papers rely upon th e very fine
I
ch eck list com piled by Lloyd A. Arvidson in H am lin G arland: C en tennial T rib u tesl
and a C hecklist of th e H am lin G arland P apers jn th e U niversity o f Southern!
C alifornia L ibrary L ibrary B ulletin No. 9 (Los Angeles: USC, 1962). All citatio n s
from th e Ham lin G arland P apers re fe r to th e item num bers in th e Arvidson
ch eck list. Thus any c ita tio n designated sim ply by an item num ber sym bol follow ed
vii
by a num ber, e.g. (#123), should alw ays be tak en as a re fe re n ce to th e Arvidson
checklist.
Unless a deviation is explained in an endnote, all o th er c ita tio n s conform
to th e p a re n th e tic a l fo rm at of docum entation described in The ML A S tyle M anual
(1985). Enough in form ation is provided w ithin th e body of th e d issertatio n to!
I '
Jmake clear a given re fe re n c e source; a co m plete list of works cited w ill be;
|found a t th e very end of th e d issertatio n . N otes have been kept to a minimum
and appear a t th e end of each ch ap ter.
In th e sp ecific case of c itatio n s of le tte rs , any p a re n th e tic a l note using
:the ML A convention for w riting a d a te, e.g. (8 M ar 1888), m ay au to m atically
i ;
be assum ed to re fe r to a le tte r w ithout need of identifying it as such. •
i 1
P a rt II of th is d isse rta tio n is an e d ito rial p ro je c t which p resen ts th e textsj
i
of th re e unpublished G arland works. Each te x t is tre a te d as a sep a ra te edition
I
and is th e re fo re preceded by a d etailed in tro d u ctio n describing ed ito rial m ethod.!
| I
These te x ts each include a te x tu a l app aratu s w hich records em endations. I
I
Of course, throughout th e d isssertatio n m any of G arland's forty-four,
volum es o f published w orks a re cited . Unless oth erw ise noted, th e te x t usedj
is alw ays th e first edition. The m ost freq u en tly cited title s have been ab b rev iated
MTR
Son I
I
D aughter
Trail-M akers
B ack-T railers
I
as follows:
I
M ain-Travelled Roads (1891)
The Middle Border series o f autobiographies:
A Son of th e Middle B order (1917)
A D aughter of th e Middle B order (1921)
T rail-M akers of th e Middle Border (1926)
B ack-T railers from th e Middle B order (1928)
viii
The m em oirs based on personal diaries:
R oadside M eetings (1930)
Com panions on th e T rail (1931)
My Friendly C ontem poraries (1932)
A fternoon Neighbors (1934)
The unpublished m em oir of G arland's eldest
(b. 1903)
To My F a th e r (c. 1970)
Roadside
Com panions j
C ontem poraries j
N eighbors j
i
daughter, M ary Isabel G arland
I
F a th e r
CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION
THE FEMINIZATION OF THE FAILURE OF AMERICAN DRAMA
jMan is not w hat he thinks he is, he is w hat he hides. —Andre M alraux
To read R o b ert Spiller's L iterary H istory of th e U nited S ta te s (1946)
or even Em ory E llio tt's brand new Colum bia L iterary H istory of th e U nited
S ta te s (1988) one would have no idea th a t W illiam D ean Howells, H enry Jam es,
and Stephen C rane betw een them w rote fifty -fiv e plays. This is to say nothing
lof five plays by Jack London, eight by Theodore D reiser, and dozens by Uptort
, I
S inclair (including a d ra m a tiz atio n of The Jungle). Not even in A rth u r Hobson
i I
'Quinn's stan d ard A H istory o f th e A m erican D ram a (1936) or W alter M eserve's
1 I
! i
jThe R evels H istory of D ram a in English (1977) is anything but passing re fe re n c e
m ade to th e m any plays w ritten by th e m ajor m ale figures in A m erican lite ra tu re
i
b efo re World War I. And of course, now here is to be found a single w ord of
j
published scholarship th a t would inform one th a t from 1887-1927 H am lin G arland
I
w rote a t le a st sev en teen plays and an opera lib r e tto .1
The reason for hiding the dram a in th e lives of th ese m en seem s fa irly
obvious a fte r reading th e ir biographers and c ritic s: th eir a c tiv ity in th e dram a
is largely a reco rd of failu re. W hether c ritic s have consciously se t out to exclude
the dram a from a discussion of th ese w rite rs' life and work—and I doubt it—th e re
can be no question th a t th e e ffe c t of A m erican lite ra ry historiography has been
to re p re se n t th ese w rite rs only by th e ir a e sth e tic a lly successful prose fictio n
(since th e irs was not usually financially su ccessfu l fiction), and th is m ostly
i
m eans th e novel. Indeed, th e prevailing m odel of lite ra ry historiography has
been th a t of th e la te n in eteen th century success n a rra tiv e so w ell re p re se n te d
by such H oratio A lger title s of th e 1870's as S triv e and Succeed and Bound to
R ise, and Orison S w ett M arden's Pushing to th e F ront (1894). Thus, Edwin Cady]
fo r exam ple, puts H ow ells on The R oad to R ealism , and Leon Edel has Henry
p am es rising inevitably to his "m ajor phase." H am lin G arland is known prim arily
jby his av an t-g ard e success M ain-Travelled R oads (1891). This is as G arland
would have w anted it because th e first volum e o f his autobiography, _ A Son of
ithe Middle B order (1917), ends w ith his triu m p h an t re tu rn hom e to his p aren ts
a fte r th e publication of M ain-T raveiled R oads. G arland's Middle B order books
;form th a t a rch ety p al A m erican m ale success sto ry of th e farm boy who m akes
good in th e big city .
Em ploying this m odel of success, lite ra ry historiographers have invariably
'perceived th e A m erican dram a b efore Eugene O 'N eill as a failed g en re unw orthy
I !
of A m erican novelists. The dram a becom es a g enre th a t ta in ts w ith failu re
i
any novelist who goes n ear it. In his 1986 biography of Theodore D reiser, R ichard
'Lingem an concludes a fo u r-sen ten ce sk etc h o f D reiser's first play w ritte n in
1890 this way: "While T heodore was th u s addling his brain w ith dream s of
'Broadway glory by night, by day he was pursuing an appren ticesh ip fo r his re a l
vocation" (108). This m ight n ot have been as c lea r to D reiser as it is to Lingem an ,'
who is anxious th a t D reiser not w aste his tim e on dram a. Leon Edel seemsj
even m ore anxious for one to see th a t H enry Jam es m ade som e good o f a bad
genre: J
Above all [these plays] a re p a rt o f a very hum an and very
touching sto ry —th a t o f a w rite r stum bling and searching, w ith
o b stin ate passion, to win success on th e stag e and th e n , after,
a series of painful d e fe a ts due in larg e m easure to an in ab ility
to fa c e th e re a litie s o f th e th e a tre , w resting from his failu res
a fin al and m ajor v icto ry , finding in th e scenic m ethod th e salvation
th a t enabled him to pursue his a r t and arriv e a t th ose discoveries
which m ark him out as one of th e g re a t a rc h ite c ts o f th e modern'
novel. (C om plete Plays 69) I
3
Edel as m uch as m akes th e dram a a contagion w hen he calls Jam es's
jplays a case o f "fitfu l d ra m a tic fever" (53). A pparently Jam es him self wished
ito keep his c o n tra ctio n of this disease a s e c re t, for Edel notes, "he confided
! !
jhis th e a tric a l plans to few , he le ft a sketch y and vague record in th e le tte rs
to his in tim a te s, and he scrupulously d estroyed th e working notebooks fo r his
dram as" (13). So H am lin G arland was in good com pany and c ertain ly doing nothing
i
I
unusual when he decided to subm erge his own long dram a c aree r. In his four
'
volum es o f Middle B order autobiographies 1917-1928, G arland m akes nothing
| m ore th an a b rie f disparaging re fe re n c e to his published play, U nder th e Wheel
|( l890), and his p erfo rm ed play M iller of Boscobel (1909). Finally in 1930 in
'R oadside M eetings, the first of four volum es o f m em oirs based on his personal
I
( d iaries, G arland im beds a tw o paragraph survey of his playw righting c a re e r
w ithin a c h ap ter e n title d tfO th er Plays and Players":
j
Inevitably I trie d my hand a t w riting plays. N ot to have
done so would have been phenom enal sto lid ity , b ut I was never;
able to fo rg et in those days th a t I was a re fo rm er, so my first'
play d e alt w ith land m onopoly and was called "U nder th e W heel,"
and my second was based on a c ele b ra te d in v estigation of th e
lobby by th e le g islatu re o f Boston. I nam ed it "A M em ber o f th e
Third H ouse." W hatever my plays possessed in the way o f d ram atic
pow er, th ey w ere absolutely unsalable by reason o f th e ir a u ste re
c o n ten t. H erne sym pathized w ith th em as docum ents, but was
too wise to a tte m p t to produce th em . j
In addition to th e se a tte m p ts I w orked w ith [H erne] on
a m elodram a called F all R iver, he w riting one a c t and I another,I
but th ey cam e to nothing. Then I w orked w ith K atherine [Herne]
on an Irish com edy for her, which we nam ed "Mrs. C risp," but'
th a t also ran into th e ditch. Then I induced Mr. Howells to work'
w ith me on a d ra m a tiz atio n of "A M odern Instance." The n e t
re su lt o f w hich is a m anuscript, p a rtly p rin t and p a rtly his own
w riting, nothing m ore. (84-85)
Besides being sim ply wrong in sev eral p a rtic u la rs, G arland has in less
i
th an tw o hundred words said about all he was to say publicly about a careerj
th a t included sev en teen e x ta n t p lay s,2 th e founding in 1891 of The Firstj
Independent T h eater S ociety o f Boston and in 1911 o f th e C hicago Theaterj
' 4’
S ociety, an in cessan t flow of d ram a co m m en tary in periodicals, and tw o ch ap ters
on th e d ram a in C rum bling Idols (1894). E xcept for a few o th er passing re fe re n ce s
i
to his th eaterg o in g , th is is all G arland p resen ts of his c a re e r in th e dram a iri
i
his eig h t volum es o f autobiographic w orks which com prise n early four thousand
I
pages. T hat G arland considered his c a re e r in th e dram a as p a rt of his unusable
p ast, as R ussel J . R eising uses th a t te rm in The U nusable P ast (1986), is thus
beyond question. W illiam D ean H ow ells, who knew G arland's c a re e r b e tte r
jthan anyone, called a tte n tio n in his 1917 review of A Son o f th e M iddle Border
i
ito G arland's reinvention o f him self:
I
j No one, if he is as wise as I alw ays hope my re a d er is, ex p ects
; an auto b io g rap h er to be p e rfe c tly open; behind his ap p aren tly
fran k e st confession th e re alw ays lurks som e s e c re t w hich he will
not or, if he would, he cannot divulge, and he is q u ite w ithin his
rig h ts to keep it, when he says he will keep none. (New York
Tim es R eview o f Books 26 Aug 1917)
T hat se c re t w hich G arland and m ost o th e r historiographers "cannot divulge'^
is th e s e c re t of fa ilu re . It follow s to ask, on w hat basis could G arland ju stify
'his concealing of failu re, w hich is to say, th e concealing o f his dram a?
i
{ ;
O ur first clue to an answ er lies in th e language G arland uses to survey
his d ram a c a re e r. In h er essay, "L iterary P atern ity " (1980), Sandra G ilb ert
has called our a tte n tio n to how lite ra ry pow er has alw ays been defin ed in purely
m asculine term s. A ccording to G ilb ert, "if a wom an lacks g e n erativ e literary,
I
pow er, th en a m an who loses or abuses such pow er becom es like a w om an" (192)J
G ilbert d em o n strates th a t w hen m ale w riters wish to d escribe lite ra ry
pow erlessness th ey inev itab ly do so in fem inine term s, as when G erald M anley
I
Hopkins re fe rre d to him self in th e m idst of a w riter's block as "th e widow of
an insight lost" (193).
N ote above th a t G arland says, "W hatever my plays possessed in th e wayj
o f d ra m a tic pow er, th ey w ere ab solutely unsalable by reason o f th e ir a u ste re
5
co n ten t." What he is saying first o f all is th a t his plays did indeed have a m easure
of "d ram atic pow er," and as G ilbert would arg u e, G arland is claim ing his plays
a s m asculine te x ts . N ote fu rth e r th a t G arland says th e prim ary c h a ra c te ris tic
of his m asculine te x ts was th e ir "au ste re c o n ten t," which is th e reaso n they1
w ere "absolutely unsalable." The im plication, by c o n tra st, is th a t th e only kind
I
of te x t th a t would sell is a fem inine te x t, th a t is, one th a t is w ell d eco rated
and a ttra c tiv e ly adorned w ith ornam ents th a t a m ale w rite r like G arland would
not use. As Nina Baym has pointed out in "M elodram as o f B eset M anhood" (1981),
A m erican lite ra ry c ritic s have alw ays asso ciated th e fem inine w ith th e evil
o f fin an cial success, dero g atin g "wom en au th o rs as c re a to rs of th e 'flagrantly,
bad b e st-se lle r1 " (130). In th e case o f G arland, ra th e r than say his plays w eren 't
i
any good, G arland in e ffe c t converts th e very d efin itio n and idea o f a play in to
a wom an: his w orks of m asculine pow er w ere too good—i.e . not fem ale
enough— -for th e A m erican th e a te r.
i
I
; But th e re is even m ore in G arland's language w hich shows how he fem inized
th e dram a and could th e re fo re dism iss it from serious consideration. F irst,
he n o tes above how his co llab o ratio n w ith Jam e s A. H erne on a m elodram a;
i
i |
j'cam e to nothing." This is as it should be since m elodram a in our lite ra ry h isto ries
i
and criticism is "no thing"—a form made invisible by consistent disparagement
Lnd not coincidentally a form that has always been seen as essentially feminine
since at its center is the idealized uninteresting heroine over which the hero
Lnd the villain battle. Then Garland goes on to note that the comedy he wrote,
with Katherine Herne "ran into the ditch." Here the implied metaphor suggests
i
th a t th e ste re o ty p ic a l "wom an driver"—G arland's fem ale co llab o rato r—is to^
be held responsible fo r th is accid en t. (As I explain in C h ap ter 3, th e play didn't!
!
run in to th e ditch so m uch as G arland was unhappy w ith w here K atherine H erne
w as ste e rin g it.)
Finally, it is qu ite revealing how G arland observes his w ork w ith Howells
on a d ra m a tiz atio n of A Modern Instance cam e to "nothing m ore" than a
i
m anuscript. What m ore could th e re be but a m anuscript? For one thing, a
<
p erfo rm ed m anuscript, and fo r an o th er, a published m an uscript. In o th e r words,
this m anuscript was a failu re. G arland m ight be com m ended fo r owning up
to it, b ut th e re is little risk in th e adm ission since, for exam ple, a c ritic like
Edwin C ady could dism iss all o f How ells's th irty -six plays as "finger ex ercises
fo r his novels." In doing so, C ady fem inizes th e "failure" o f How ells's plays
by applying a dainty m etaphor from th e a r t o f piano-playing, a skill th a t was
a req u irem en t o f th e finished wom an in la te n in eteen th cen tu ry A m erican society,*
Like th e wom an who plays to e n te rta in her parlor gu ests, a n o v elist who w rote
|
plays was indulging in a diversion, a m echanical and m indless w arm -up for th e
virtuoso perfo rm an ce th a t was novel w riting.
The ap p licatio n o f w om anly language to describe th e d ram a a le rts one
to how th is genre g ets tre a te d like a wom an in w riting th e success sto ries of
n in eteen th cen tu ry m ale A m erican novelists. The d ram a is a s ta tic ,1
i
d o m esticatin g , and som etim es entrapping form which th e n ovelist m ust step
{
over in his heroic q u est for a rtis tic success. A t its b est, th e dram a is m ade
I
into a stepping stone like a good w ife; a t its w orst, th e d ram a is a dead w eight
to be je ttiso n ed as one would a te m p tre ss. The conception of th e fem inine
I
could n ot have been m ade m ore ex p licit by G arland: "Woman is not by n atu re
j
an explorer. She is th e hom e-lover" (Son 244). G arland's M iddle B order
autobiographies a re about th e wom en who served him on his way to becom ing
th e D ean of A m erican L e tte rs . F irst it was his m other, th en his w ife, and then
7
even his d au ghters, one of whom illu stra te d his books and th e o th e r o f whom
accom panied him on th e le c tu re c irc u it giving readings from his books. At'
th e end, all of th ese w om en fad e to th e background, as was th e case w ith his
tw o siste rs who by dying young "had fallen on th e m arch." !
In m aking th e role o f the dram a in his w riting c a re e r analogous to th e
I
role of th e wom en in his life in his m arch to w ard success, G arland was by no
m eans exhibiting a m ean or m anipulative view o f w om en. Q uite th e c o n trary ,
G arland id ealized wom en and g ran ted them m oral superiority over m en.3 He
was m erely accep tin g his cu ltu re's largely unquestioned assum ptions about gender
roles and according women a good deal of credit for performing their roles
j
Jso selflessly . But w hat G arland does in th e process of p u ttin g w om en "above
!
th e fray " is to d istan ce th em from m en and thus from th e only A m erican history
ithat has ev er been w ritte n , th e h istory of success. The im p licatio n for th e
i |
jdram a is th a t once th e genre is co n v erted in to a wom an, it is not only ju stifia b le
j
but utterly natural to relegate it to invisible status.
j
What is wholly ironic about rem oving th e pre-O 'N eill A m erican dram a
from th e h istory o f lite ra ry success is th a t by th e principal y ard stick for
m easuring success in th e G ilded Age—m oney—th e dram a was by fa r th e m ost
su ccessfu l gen re. In light o f this, one m ay begin to doubt th a t th e 1
h isto rio g rap h ical fem in izatio n of d ram a is solely a product o f unconscious
I
genderization. Nina Baym has suggested that male literary critics have usually]
viewed women as a threat to male power and authority. Thus in their readings
of American novels such critics continually reenact melodramas of beset manhood
in which men overcome the "scribbling women" who are earning more money.1
Literary success in the nineteenth century has therefore been redefined long
after the fact in a way that contradicts the way nineteenth century AmericaJ
cu ltu re defined m asculine success. W illiam D ean H owells, for one, was fully;
i
cognizant o f his c u ltu re 's d efinition of success. In his essay, "The Man of L e tte rs
j |
jas a Man of Business" (1902), Howells divorced lite ra tu re from business byj
describing th e w rite r as one who m akes a th in g and th e businessm an as one
who m ark ets a thing. D espite becom ing w ealthy and pow erful by his w riting,
jHowells trie d to d etach lite ra tu re from his c u ltu re 's conventional stan d ard of
financial success p recisely because he was an ex cep tio n and not th e ru le. The
e ffe c t of H owells's program w ith re sp ec t to th e dram a, continued ev er since
by m ost lite ra ry histo rio g rap h ers, has been to co n ceal th a t th e th e a te r was
in fa c t a scene o f pow er fo r A m erican w om en. In fem inizing th e d ram a and
Jthus c h arac te riz in g it as a failed genre, m ale histo rio g rap h ers m ay be anxious
jto hide how wom en of th e th e a te r w ere som e o f th e m ost successful and pow erful
people in A m erica.
G arland him self acknow ledges in his th e a te r novel, The L ight o f th e
S ta r (1904), th a t th e way to success as a playw right w as through a w om an. In
Ithis book a playw right who wishes to produce a serious play approaches a s ta r
i ■
jBroadway a c tre ss. If she would ag ree to play th e lead role, the play would be
i
produced, fo r it is m ade c le a r th a t th e m ale producers and m anagers who surround
I ,
h er follow her o rders a t a ll points. In inscribing a copy of th e book to a friend.
G arland said his novel was based on "a visit behind th e scenes w ith Ju lia A rthur.",
Julia A rthur was only one o f a larg e group of pow erful A m erican a c tre sse s who
con tro lled th e ir own c a re e rs during th e la te n in e te en th and early tw e n tie th
I
c en tu ries. This group included M aude A dam s, B lanche B ates, Ju lia M arlowe,
(Frances S ta rr, and th e m ost pow erful of all, M innie M addern Fiske. E arly in
I i
[her c a re e r, Fiske had been a victim of th e T ru st, a th e a tric a l sy n d icate headed
|
i
up by C harles Frohm an th a t co n tro lled m ost o f th e country's im p o rtan t th e a te rs
and could d ic ta te te rm s to a c tre ss and a c to r alike. As Fiske becam e m ore popular
she decided to fight th e T ru st and opened her own M anhattan T h e a te r in 1903J
O ver th e next eig h t y ears she won acco lad es fo r her p erfo rm an ces in Hedda
i
^Gabbler and tw o o th e r g re a t h its, The New York Idea (1906) and S alvation N ell
I
(1908). Fiske helped to put th e T ru st out o f business; few o th e r Americans,-
m an or w om an, could m atch h e r success.
Y et G arland, who was a frien d o f Fiske's, gave an alm o st shocking
d em o n stratio n of how such fem ale success was ignored and devalued. In 1911
G arland w as invited to th e New Y ork D ram a L eague to d eliv er a testim o n ial
address a t a dinner given in honor o f Fiske. A fte r an opening o b lig ato ry re fe re n c e
i 1
ito Fiske, G arland said n ot one fu rth er w ord on th e a c tre ss and used his address
! ■
|to tru m p et th e form atio n of his own new C hicago T h e a ter S o c i e t y . ^ it is unlikely
I
G arland would have snubbed an a c to r in th is way. In his le c tu re s on Edwin Booth,
,Garland w ent to th e o th e r e x tre m e of a p assio n ate call for can o n izatio n . But
I
o f course in G arland's lexicon, Booth was a pure "m aster o f expression," and
Fiske was only an "acto r-p ro d u cer" w hose a r t was sullied by com m erce.
i
To G arland, as fo r m any o th ers, it was clea r th a t th e accom plishm ent
of an a c tre ss re ste d upon little th a t was su b stan tial and she could th e re fo re
j I
be devalued and m ade invisible. An e n try in G arland's 1892 notebook is to the]
I
ipoint: !
i
An A ctress 1
In re a lity she w as a fictio n . She was heralded as a g re a t a c tre ss
as a w onderful c re a tu re b eau tifu l, cu ltu red . H er nam e w as displayed
on huge sh eets of gaudy paper. H er p ic tu re in every conceivable,
perm issible a ttitu d e was s e t in every window, her gowns com m anded
in cessan t chronicle.
She was a stran g e fa r-o ff fairy -lik e c re a tu re to th e g re a t
m ass of people . . . . !
In re a lity she was a plain little c re a tu re q u ite dom estic
and qu ite ordinary. She succeed ed in m arrying a still m ore ordinary,
little m an and th ey both w alked forw ard side by side q u ite inside'
______________this bubble-phantom of th em selv es which th e cupidity of the]
10
m anagers had produced. They w ere qu ite real and n o t a t a l
n o ticeab le in any way in p riv a te life . (#34) j
H ere a wom an is e n tirely th e product o f th e "cupidity of th e m anagers."
B eing chosen fo r stard o m was for a wom an purely a m a tte r of luck; she was
I '
jbut one of many "creatures" whose value rested solely upon her appearance
rather than talent. Theodore Dreiser offers the archetype of the soft-headed
Lctress in Sister Carrie (1900). The difference, however, between Dreiser ancl
jGarland was that Garland always genderized the unreal and the theatrical as
feminine, while Dreiser implicated everyone in a theatricalized society.
The re fu sal by h isto rio g rap h ers to include fin an cial success and th e re fo re
fem in in e success as a c rite rio n for judging lite ra tu re becom es even c le a re r
in th e case of Eugene O 'N eill, who in every lite ra ry histo ry is th e firs t A m erican
success sto ry in th e d ram a. Spiller's c h a p te r on O 'N eill is ty p ic a l and m ight
by re title d "W aiting fo r O 'N eill," fo r in th is acco u n t th e A m erican d ram a is
C h aracterized as a m oribund form w aiting fo r a m asculine hero to rescu e it
!from th e grips o f th e fem inine m elodram a. In a read in g o f O 'N eill's m ajor plays,
Spiller concludes th a t O 'N eill "is one m ore in sta n ce o f th e pow er and th e m aturity,
I
of A m erican lite ra tu re " (1250). While th is m ay or m ay not be tru e , one would
n e v er le arn from S piller th a t O 'N eill was a su ccessfu l Broadw ay playw right.1
Much a tte n tio n is lavished on th e P rovincetow n P lay ers' little th e a te r th a t
"nurtured" O 'N eill, but no m ention is m ade th a t O 'N eill firs t e n te re d in to th e
A m erican consciousness through a series o f Broadw ay h its. Nor is any m ention
!
m ade o f so com m ercially a sig n ifican t fa c t th a t O 'N eill's plays won four P u litze r
P rizes. The point is th a t even when th e d ram a a f te r World War I can co n trib u te
a few success sto rie s to A m erican lite ra ry h isto ry , care is tak en to see to it
I
th ey conform to th e tra d itio n o f m asculine a e s th e tic success and n ot fem inine
fin an cial success._________________________________________________________________ j
11
H am lin G arland m ay thus be ta k en as a re p re se n ta tiv e A m erican
h isto rio g rap h er who ren d ered th e d ram a p a rt o f th e unusable p a st. P erceiv ed
in fem inine te rm s as a failu re, G arland's activ e life-lo n g d ram a c a re e r w as
expendable when he sa t down in 1913 to begin his personal h isto ry , A . Son of
' i
Ithe M iddle B order. He had p red eterm in ed to use th e h isto ric a l m odel of
j j
|evolutionary upw ard progress w hich he first ad opted w hile read in g H ippolyte
T aine's H istory of English L ite ra tu re (1864) during lonely nights on th e D akota
p ra irie . The re su lt was a d efin itio n o f an A m erican as a m an who succeeds.
i
•But in o rd er to arriv e a t th is fixed position G arland had to leav e m uch out,
Jand it is th e purpose o f th is study to exam ine th a t w hich he le f t o u t, principally
his c a re e r in th e dram a.
i
*
G arland's M iddle B order h isto ries have had m uch to do w ith shaping1
A m erican notions of th e ru ra l life o f th e com m on fa rm ers of th e upper M idw est
in th e la te n in e te en th cen tu ry . When A _ Son o f th e Middle B order firs t cam e
Lut in 1917, Howells p raised it unreservedly in th e New York Tim es R eview
o f Books;
In o th e r w ords, it is a psychological synthesis o f p ersonal and
g en eral conditions in a new country, such as has n o t got into
lite ra tu re b efo re. T h at in itse lf, i f it w ere nothing else, is a1
precious co n trib u tio n to hum an know ledge, and h e re a fte r no one
who w ishes to know w hat th e conditions of th e M iddle W est were,
fifty y ears ago, o r, [what] th e conditions o f w ell-nigh all A m erica
throughout its beginnings have been, can ignore th is unexam pled
book.
To th is day it is n ot unusual to m eet m any people living in th e M idw est
I
I
fo r whom G arland's book w as a sem inal te x t. G arland's h isto ries have evenj
| !
b een a c c e p te d by scholars and c ritic s who have relied heavily on his
j
i
autobiographies fo r in fo rm atio n . So it seem s unlikely th a t a d ire c t challenge
ito th e v e ra c ity of G arland's histo ric a l co n stru ctio n s should com e from his own
fam ily- But th is is in fa c t th e case, for G arland's eld est dau g h ter M ary Isabel
(b. 1903), w ro te a m em oir of h er fa th e r som e fifte e n years ago w hich has n ev er
been published or previously exam ined. E n title d To My F a th e r, it is a re v e re n tia l
i
acco u n t of her close relatio n sh ip w ith h er fa th e r. And y e t a t th e sam e tim e
it a c ts as a fem in ist te x t in questioning q u ite ex p licitly th e a u th o rity o f her
fa th e r's books. This passage in w hich M ary Isabel te lls how h er m o th er, Zulim e
i
T a ft, m et G arland o ffe rs a s ta rtlin g rev elatio n :
I
It was n ot long b efore she m et th e rising W estern n o v elist, H am lin
G arland, whose re a listic lite ra ry approach was causing shocked
com m ent in lite ra ry circles. H enry Blake F uller w ro te th e sto ry
o f th e ir courtship in his sly, charm ing "U nder th e Skylights" and
F a th e r's own acco u n t ap p ears in his P u litze r P rize winning "A
D aughter o f th e Middle B order," a book, by th e w ay, th a t my m other
ste a d fa stly refu sed to read.
When I asked her why, h er fa c e shadow ed and she looked
I aw ay from m e w ith her lips tig h ten in g .
"B ecause it isn't tru e ," she said and nothing could persuade
her to say m ore. (F ath er 4)
j '
M ary Isabel goes on to te ll th a t m any y ears la te r h er m other confided
to Mary her own version of th e sto ry of her m arriage, which included th e
adm ission th a t she did not love G arland w hen she m arried him . M ary Isabel
concludes: "It was an e x trao rd in ary sto ry th a t she told me and not a suggestion
of it app ears in e ith e r H am lin G arland's books or his diaries" (4). |
i
What else was H am lin G arland hiding? M ary Isabel poses th is very question
to h erself:
Why, fo r exam ple, is th e re no m ention of th e baby boy,
born in th e first y ear of his m arriag e, th re e years b efo re I came?|
M other to ld me about th e baby and th a t it had lived only a fewj
days. F a th e r, in his d iaries and his books, m akes no re fe re n c e
to it. Why? . . . |
A t th'e sam e tim e , am ong F a th e r's papers, shoved way back
in th e files, I found the first page of a Boston new spaper. U nder
th e flam boyant headline, "GARLAND IN APPEAL FOR UNWEEj
MOTHERS," was an im passioned, w ell-w ritten a rtic le decrying
th e in ju stice m eted out to girls who had been v ictim ized by m en
and calling on th e S ta te and S ociety to do som ething to ease th e ir
13
lo t. He was a cru sad er in th o se days, I know, but I find no m ention
of th is p a rtic u la r cause in e ith e r his d iaries or "A Son of th e Middle
B order". (2)
M ary Isabel G arland raises tw o p e rtin e n t issues h ere. F irst, and m ost
obvious, is th a t G arland w as qu ite lite ra lly hiding th e fem inine asp e c t o f his
ex p erien ce. G arland's unw ed m others w ere "shoved w ay back in th e files," as
i
was his own w ife when it cam e tim e to w rite his autobiography. Second, G arland
was distancing him self from his old persona as a "cru sad er." G arland had forced
his w ay into th e public consciousness as a re fo rm e r. But in c o n stru ctin g his
M iddle B order h isto ries, G arland carefu lly covered his tra c k s and disavow ed
i
;his re fo rm ist p ast. In a le tte r to friend and jo u rn alist G eorge L orim er, G arland
j i
jconfessed his apostasy: "I've been a re fo rm er all my life but I am a co nservative
now" (21 May [1936 ?] #2605). G arland was even m ore b ru tally fran k to a young
i
aspiring p o et who cham pioned th e cause o f labor:
T h eo retically you a re qu ite rig h t in a ll you say of labor
but u n fo rtu n ate ly youth has too o fte n my fo rm er a ttitu d e . If
I had loved th e m anure pile I would n o t have w ritte n any books.
Perhaps th e books a re a f te r all less im p o rtan t th an th e raising
| of corn and pigs—I shall n ot pass on th a t. The fa c t rem ains I disliked
I farm life, I longed to g e t aw ay from it, I chose o th e r w ork and
I did my b est in it. I have nothing to apologize fo r. I would not
lie ab o u t it th en and I w ill not lie about it now. I honor th e brave'
young m en and wom en who a re doing th e w ork expressed by the'
words o f your verses but I would be false to m y creed and to m y
w ork if I p reten d ed to like a thing th a t I fe e l is a sad n e ce ssity .1
I have th e sam e feelin g fo r m en who dig drains in th e c ity s tre e ts .
I couldn't do it and I h a te to see th em fo rced to do it. ([1921?]
#1316) |
By devaluing his fo rm er c a re e r as a ra d ic al re fo rm er G arland was at'
th e sam e tim e concealing failu re and th e fem inine. In a sense, all reform '
i
m ovem ents a re condem ned to fail since th ey posit th e goal o f utopia. The th re e
m ajor refo rm m ovem ents in w hich G arland had poured m uch o f his life's energy
did n ot m e et his ex p ectatio n s fo r success: th e Populist m ovem ent to im prove'
i
i
th e_ d eb ilitatin g _ eo n d itio n s_ o f_ th e_ farm er_ acco m p lish ed _ little_ th at _was_tangible;
th e te m p e ran c e m ovem ent th a t brought on Prohibition su cceed ed only in
in stitu tio n a liz in g co rru p tio n in governm ent; th e antim o d ern m ovem ent in
lite r a tu r e in th e 1920's and 1930's did n ot p rev en t Faulkner, for exam ple, front
achieving tran scen d an t s ta tu s. So by ab d icatin g his ro le as a re fo rm e r, G arland
was denying th e re a lity of fa ilu re in his personal history. 1
And he was also denying th e re a lity of th e fem inine in his p a st, since
i
th e m ajor refo rm m ovem ents in th e U nited S ta te s have alw ays been closely1
asso ciated w ith th e fem inine. A m erica's firs t m ajor refo rm m ovem ent of
abolitionism was im pelled by th e fo rce o f H a rrie t B eecher Stow e's novel, Uncle
Tom 's C abin. The te m p e ran c e m ovem ent was larg ely a fem inine re a c tio n to
m ale dissipation and would claim C arrie N ation as its sym bol. Susan B. Anthony
I
jwas th e guiding lig h t o f th e w om en's su ffra g e m ovem ent, w hile Jan e Addams
j
founded the settlem ent house movement as a way to alleviate social problems
i
in A m erica's grow ing c itie s. To be a re fo rm er in la te n in eteen th cen tu ry A m erica
was to be fem ale, w h eth er one was a m an or w om an. In e ffacin g the re fo rm er
in him self, G arland was effacin g th e fem inine a sp e c t o f his psyche and ex p erien ce.
i
It is crucially im p o rtan t to understand th a t G arland denied th e fem inine
|
in himself not out of stodgy chauvinism or malevolent sexism . Instead this
denial was Garland's subconscious admission that he was a divided man, thJ
prototype for the twentieth century Freudian self-alienated divided man.
Garland's feminization of failure and its subsequent dismissal from his past
was in fact a response to his deeply felt internal division; by denying the feminine^
Garland was attempting to construct a unified self. Garland's historiographyj
in which the feminine was excluded was nothing less than a way of maintaining
psychic health.
Freud has a lerted us to double m eaning and an am bivalence of th e self
t
th a t produces tensions. C ertainly in G arland’s case th ere was always a tension
betw een engagem ent w ith his culture and w ithdraw al from it, betw een th e impulsej
for autonom ous action and the desire for dependent passivity. This am bivalence
I
was often inscribed in G arland's works but now here is it m ore clear than in1
i
ja scenario for a play he en titled A _ C ynical B rother, w ritten into his notebook
|dated "Summer, 1892" (#29).
A C ynical B rother begins with a "m odern" love story involving a young
|man nam ed Joe—clearly G arland him self—and a m arried woman. Joe and his
older "cynical brother" have been frequent house guests of a Boston businessm an
|and his beautiful w ife. Joe falls in love w ith th e w ife and his cynical b rother
i
prods him to pursue her despite the fa c t she seem s happily m arried. Joe proceeds
ito declare his love to the m arried woman who kindly tells the "poor fellow"
she does not love him. Joe is crushed and w hile departing declares his failure
Ito his host: "I do love her and I asked her if she loved me but she said no. So
I
!that ends it. I've got to bleed you see."
i
The an tith eses th a t would always appear in Garland's w riting reso n ate
I
in this play scenario in a series of dualities. F irst th e re is the am bivalent attitu d e'
tow ard the m arried host who is a "very fine business man who knows nothing!
of books or fine things"; he is juxtaposed to th e sensitive young Joe. Then there'
is the nam eless wife who is both the idealized o b ject of Joe's love and thej
archetypal w itch-w om an who re je cts him, ending his dream th a t th e order ofj
things can be changed. Finally and m ost significantly, th ere is Joe's cynical
b rother for whom the play is nam ed. This older b rother is cynical because hej
too was once disappointed in love. He urges Joe to press his claim on th e host's
w ife and goes so fa r as to prevail upon the host to give up his w ife to Joe. As
g u ests a t th e host's c o tta g e both th e cynical b ro th e r and Jo e a re in tru d ers a£
w ell as villains in a dom estic m elodram a in which th e subversives a re expelled.
i
The cynic's d e p artu re for C hicago p reced es Jo e's own d ep artu re.
I
This coupling of th e d ra m a tic actio n s of both b ro th ers leads to my principal
I
conclusion: h ere th e cynical b ro th e r is th e re p re se n ta tiv e o f one o f th e tw o
i
H am lin G arlands. In psychological te rm s, th e cynic is inscribed as G arland's
!
double and is a product of his unconscious m ind. He is th e m asculine side of
H am lin G arland who is continually a t w ar w ith th e failed /fem in in e side of
jGarland, re p re se n te d h ere by th e c h a ra c te r o f Jo e th e loser. G arland's wounds
{
from th is in te rn a l co n flict are p a th e tic a lly acknow ledged: "I've g o t to bleed
I i
I
iyou see."
i
j What I am try in g to d e m o n strate in presen tin g , as I have h ere, this
[unpublished play scen ario , is th a t th e re a re tw o Ham lin G arlands in th e
psychological sense: one is th e au th o r and public persona we presum e to know
i
th ro u g h published discourse on which has been im posed th e v alu e-lad en m odel
i
of th e m asculine success sto ry . The o th e r is a H am lin G arland we have n o t
really m e t, a p riv ate persona known p rim arily to G arland him self and re p re se n te d
I
la rg e ly in unpublished discourse—such as his plays. To discover in his w ritings
th e o th e r Ham lin G arland, th a t is, th e fem inine failu re, and th en to co n n ect
th e se re p re se n ta tio n s o f d u ality to th e sp ecific circu m stan ces o f G arland's life'
1
is to learn som ething about how A m ericans responded to a deeply fe lt am bivalence
endem ic to th e ir c u ltu re during this period. I
I
Such a response could vary in its fo rm , especially fo r w rite rs. T here
[
w as th e e x p atriatio n o f firs t H enry Jam es and th en S tephen C rane as th ey sought
|
th e req u isite d istan ce from th e ir m a te ria ls fo r an a r t woven from th e cloth[
of individual consciousness. T here was th e p a tie n ce , if n ot courage, of W illiam
D ean H ow ells who w ithstood th e in te rn a l and e x te rn a l pressu res to m ake his
fic tio n cohere; "I suppose [realists] shall have to w ait," Howells to ld C rane in
1 8 9 4 . 5 T h ere was everybody's cynical b ro th e r, Sam uel C lem ens, who irritablyj
s itu a te d him self on th e dark side o f hum an n a tu re . T here w as th e endurance
I i
I
jof Henry Adams who saw life as "a double thing" and sought an education for
'a world whose one law was chaos. There was the engagement with the world
Jof the previously denied like Frederick Douglas, and the withdrawal from the
world of the previously devalued like Kate Chopin. But none of these responses
|to ambivalence replicated that of Hamlin Garland who first reacted by appealing1
Jto his art to unify a divided self. This unpublished and untitled poem from
joarland's notebook of 1892-93 is a plea issued by an exhausted soul who for
i ;
nearly ten years had been writing privately into his notebooks such entries as
i I
"Suicide" and "No God":
0 strange and treacherous
| power—
How fa r will you flo a t
m e?
I'm a flo a t now. I swim
like a sw im m er a t sea
My fa c e is to th e sky ;
1 see my ideals soar i
above m e like eag les. 1
U nder m e swim my passions
and my fe a r.
A round me on th e shiny lev el !
of th e sea
O th ers stru g g le. Old m en and
young lads.
G irls w ith voices sw eet J
as so u th ern bells
U nder th em m onsters gape
And over th em clouds lu re. j
Will th ey sink w ith me
Will th ey swim when I am !
sunk?
O a r t and song to you
I lif t my eyes.
F or you my arm s a re strong
_____________________M ^ h e a rt throbbing w ith l i f e . ____ _ _ _ _ _ ____________________
1 8 1
O shadow m e w ith your
dapples o f purple lig h t
And [lure?] me w ith your
slow w heel (#33)
G arland w as to be disappointed by his M use. F ar from providing refu g e
i
from division, G arland's a r t fo rced him to c o n fro n t division. This w as especially
th e case in M ain-T ravelled R oads. Jay M artin in H arvests of C hange (1967)
i
h as n o ticed how G arland o ffers only hollow m en in M ain-T ravelled R oads, men
who w ere strip p ed o f civ ilizatio n and fo r whom life w as a n ig h tm are to be
exp erien ced , n ot a problem to be solved. But G arland could n ev er abide living
in th e n ig h tm are o f th e unsolved problem o f a divided self. When th e a r t o f
re a listic fic tio n failed to provide a basis fo r a unified self, G arland tu rn ed to
historiography as a w ay of co n stru ctin g a sta b le id en tity . This sta b le id e n tity
I
c re a te d in his four volum es o f Middle B order autobiographies w as com prised
of tw o elem en ts: 1) The m anly e th ic o f a c tio n by which G arland becam e a
pro fessio n al to u rist and lo st him self in fra n tic g lo b e -tro ttin g . 2) The equally
m anly a rtis tic eth ic o f antim odernism by w hich G arland opposed th e essen tially
!
fem inine am bivalence o f m odern lite ra tu re . To G arland, m odern lite ra tu re
i y
|was a w eak w om an who could n o t m ake up h er m ind. G arland's a n tid o te was
j i
to a ss e rt th e m anliness o f resolve, as w hen his c h a ra c te r Jay M iller, a unioh
o rg an izer in th e play M iller of Boscobel (1909), re sists th e app ro ach es o f an
old love: "No,—I m ust not! T here is a m ighty stru g g le im pending, and I--I m ust
•neither fa lte r nor dream " (E arley 75). j
*
(
Now I wish to lo c a te H am lin G arland's antim odernism ex h ib ited in his
i
Middle Border h isto ries w ithin th e la rg e r fram e provided by Jack so n L ears in
I
No P lace o f G ra ce : A ntim odernism and th e T ran sfo rm atio n o f A m erican C u ltu re
1880-1920 (1981). Lears rem inds us th a t antim odernism was n o t m erely
dilettantism, and not purely a literary movement, but thoughtful dissent to
Jthe hubris that powered a world-destroying march o f progress. Garland did
indeed feel the spiritual homelessness and weightlessness which was the most
profound effect of the growing secularization of culture. The resultant anxious
i 1
jdesire to fle e m orbid self-consciousness brought on by fem inine am bivalence was
j
m an ifested by th e disease o f th e age—n eu rasth en ia—from w hich G arland su ffered
o ff and on for fifte e n y ears sta rtin g around 1905. It th en becom es c le a re r why
G arland should have em b raced th e stren u o u s-life e th ic o f his good friend Theodore
jR oosevelt, fo r R oosevelt w as th e cham pion o f a m anly e n erg etic th e ra p e u tic
quest fo r se lf-re a liz a tio n . This th e ra p e u tic q u est for se lf-re a liz a tio n inform ed
n early all o f G arland's histo rio g rap h ical w ork a f te r M ain-T ravelled R oads. i
i i
j C astin g G arland's w ork a f te r M ain-T ravelled R oads in th e lig h t o f this
j i
jquest fo r se lf-re a liz a tio n , a q u est G arland sh ared w ith m illions of A m ericans,
helps one to avoid dism issing th e change in G arland's published work as an
i
i
'ae sth etic decline from realism to ro m an ticism . In stead , one can p roceed to
rev alu e and re in te rp re t th e e n tire G arland canon know ing th a t it was th e product
o f a d isin teg ratin g se lf striv in g consciously to becom e w hole. To be sure, the,
p ro d u c ts of such a consciousness w ere consonant w ith th e dom inant Am ericanj
c u ltu re of th e grow ing b u re a u cra tic co rp o ra te s ta te . Y et it is too sim ple to
explain them aw ay by pegging them to G arland's life-lo n g concern for fin an cial
se c u rity . G arland's post-1895 w ork was w ithout doubt acco m m o d ated to th e
m iddle-class cu ltu re . But th e reason fo r th is was th a t G arland's p reo ccu p atio n 1
w ith a u th en tic ex p erien ce, such as his 1898 tre k through th e A laskan Yukon,!
I
w as a m eans o f rev ita liz in g a frag m en ted personal id e n tity and p rev en ted him 1
from sustaining la rg e r lo y alties outside th e self. L ears concludes of th e class
of A m ericans to w hich G arland has o fte n been p e rjo ra tiv e ly assigned:
20
D esires fo r to ta l re le ase —fo r escap e from all inner c o n flic t—began
to p ro life ra te am ong e d u ca te d bourgeoisie . . . . N eith er they
nor any o th e r an tim o d ern ists w ere p a rt o f a n o stalg ic "dying race";
ra th e r th ey em bodied em bryonic developm ents com e to fru itio n
only re c en tly . Though m ost did not know it, th ey w ere a t th e
fo re fro n t o f c u ltu ra l change. (259)
G arland th e re fo re needs less to be ev alu a te d and ranked th an to be studied
i
and understood fo r his relatio n sh ip to his m ilieu. ,
To do so would re v e al, for exam ple, th a t m any of G arland's books a fte r
1900 w ere d e lib erately designed fo r th e boy-book m a rk e t~ y e t a n o th er exam ple
of G arland's valorizing o f th e m asculine over th e fem inine. O f th e m ore than
fo rty volum es G arland published in his life tim e , his b est-sellin g book w as fa r
i I
and aw ay Boy Life on th e P rairie (1899). H ardly a se n tim e n ta list sell-o u t, this
i
book drew upon th e re a listic d escrip tiv e sk etch es G arland had been w riting
fo r m agazines since 1887. When it found a responsive au d ien ce, com prised
I
' I
a t firs t larg ely of ad u lts, G arland n a tu ra lly continued in th is g en re. But he'
did so not so m uch out o f a v arice b u t out o f his an tim o d ern im pulse to te a c h
A m erican a g rarian m oral values. A bit la te r in 1902 as The C ap tain o f th e
G ray-H orse Troop was going to press, G arland w ro te to H arper's:
The m ore I think about th e p re fa c e for The C ap tain th e m ore
im p o rtan t it becom es. I really think th a t th is is a book th a t will!
live and one th a t you can safely com m end to youth. In view ofj
th e fa c t th a t a to ta lly new g en eratio n has com e on th e scene
I believe it would add value to th e sto ry if th e p re se n t day re a d e r
w ere told p recisely w here I got th e m a te ria l and how . . . . I am
q u ite c e rta in th a t I can in te re st th e young re a d e r and m ake the'
book m ore valuable. (U ndated le tte r to Edw ard C . M arsh #2755) j
A g en eratio n la te r in 1926 as he was w orking on T rail-M ak ers o f the!
I
M iddle B order, th e th ird o f his M iddle B order autobiographies w hich picks up
| J
th e sto ry of G arland's fa th e r, G arland again w ro te his publisher: i
As I go over my diaries reco rd in g my stru g g les w ith "The1
T rail-M akers" I am rem inded of our ag re em e n t th a t it could be'
very p ro perly be put in to th e juvenile—or boys book class. C an 't
we do som ething about th is, now? I think it could be given
p erm an en t sale in th is way. (21 Aug [1926?] #2508) J
H ere is evidence th a t w hat has been ta k en as G arland's "decline" was
i
m ore a c c u ra te ly a conscious sh ift to a new g en re m o tiv ated from a principled
I I
d esire to a ffe c t th e values o f A m erican youth. D uring th e 1920's and 1930's--1
( a period of G arland's life too o fte n p erceiv ed as his garrulous d o tag e—G arland
strenuously pursued a g en eratio n of children who, perhaps in p a rt becau se it
jwas w eaned on th e likes of his boy-books, would bring about a sta b iliz a tio n
of values in th e 1950's. As Jackson L ears p u ts it, "the m ost profound rad icalism
is o fte n th e m ost profound conservatism " (xx). !
G arland's co n servatism becam e a ll th e m ore profound b ecause it was
ro o ted in a life-sav in g antim odernism . G arland becam e an a p o stle o f
l |
antim odernism in o rd er to ensure his v ery survival by tran scen d in g th e in te rn a l
| i
m ascu lin e/fem in in e am bivalence of w hich he w as all too cognizant. G arland's
|close friend, H enry F u ller, poses th e c e n tra l rh e to ric a l question in With the
Procession (1895) w hich G arland stru g g led to answ er: "Take a m an who was
| i
born in 1860, and who is to die w ith th e cen tu ry —w hat would be his id ea o f
life" (qtd. in B erth o ff 16)?
U ntil he id en tified antim odernism as a p ersonal salvation, G arland's idea
j
of life was so seriously confused th a t in a very re a l sense he did die w ith th e
i
cen tu ry . Anyone like G arland born in 1860 m ight w ell have been ex h au sted
by 1900 a f te r contending w ith th e sp iritu al changes w rought by D arw inism and
th e c u ltu ra l changes w rought by technology.
C onsider th a t w hen H annibal H am lin G arland w as born on S ep tem b er 14,
1860, on a sm all farm n e ar W est Salem , W isconsin, th e Pony E xpress was inj
Its only y e ar o f serv ice , O liver W inchester had ju st introduced th e first repeating.
rif le , D arw in's On th e O rigin o f th e Species had ju st b een brought to th e U nited
22
S ta te s along w ith a new D ickens novel, A _ T ale o f Two C itie s, and Em erson,
T horeau, and H aw thorne w ere still qu ite a c tiv e . When G arland died on March!
i
4, 1940, th e New D eal w as firm ly in p lace as was E instein's th eo ry of re la tiv ity
t
i
which p e rm itte d d evelopm ent o f th e atom bom b, Sam uel B eck ett had finished
j
I
Murphy and W att, and Faulkner, H em ingw ay, and W allace S tevens w ere in their;
I
ascendancy. As G arland him self put it in 1928, "I have seen m ore change iri
i
c e rta in directio n s th an all th e m en from Julius C ae sar to A braham Lincoln"
I
(B ack-T railers 375). No g en eratio n in A m erican h isto ry has ev er w itnessed
such a co m p lete a lte ra tio n in its c u ltu ra l landscape as th a t of H am lin G arland's.
I 1
I Add to th is th e changes in th e settin g s o f G arland's own personal
I i
jenvironm ent. From a bleak, lonely boyhood on a succession of failed farm s
in W isconsin, Iowa, and South D akota, G arland escap ed to Boston in 1884 w here
j
he found a fa th e r-fig u re in W illiam D ean H ow ells. W ith his c a re e r successfu lly
launched, G arland follow ed Howells to New Y ork C ity in 1893 b ut p rom ptly
m oved on to C hicago th e sam e y ear w here he appointed him self le ad e r of a
c u ltu ra l ren aissan ce th a t n ev er qu ite m a te ria lize d as hoped. G arland m aintained
I
*
C hicago as his hom e base u n til 1916, all th e w hile tra v e llin g England, EuropeJ
and N orth A m erica from th e A laskan Yukon to M exico. He moved back to New
York C ity in 1917 w here he w ro te his four volum es o f Middle B order
autobiographies, and in 1929 G arland re tire d to Los A ngeles to be n ear his children
i
i
and to continue a series of published m em oirs.
All th e w hile, G arland's personal life changed d ra stica lly w ith his m arriag e
i
in 1899 and th e c atacly sm ic ev en t o f th e subsequent d eath o f his m other in
1900. W hether one ag rees w ith R o b ert Spiller's judgm ent th a t G arland was
shaped by an O edipus com plex (1018), th e re is no doubt th a t G arland su ffered
from sev ere guilt o v er having abandoned his m o th er to "m y fa th e r who had
' 23]
k ep t my m o th er alw ays on th e border, w orking like a slave long a f te r th e tim e
when she should have been tak in g h er ease" (Son 40 2).6 A fte r his m o th er's death,
i
G arland w as cut o ff from th e possibility of expiation; th e next y ears—his so -called
m iddle period o f outdoor ro m an ces—w ere ones o f personal d esp air, physical
i
illness, and a rtis tic aim lessness. T hese w ere G arland's w ilderness y e ars, and
t
jso dark w ere th ey th a t he w as lite ra lly presum ed dead: an adm iring re a d e r of
! a D aughter of th e Middle B order w rote G arland to inform him , "A c e rta in
I i
C yclopedia says, H am lin G arland, A uthor, died S eptem ber 4, 1909" (25 D ec
1921 #2508). The antim odernism th a t was ex p licitly expressed beginning w ith
A _ Son of th e Middle B order was nothing less th an a personal re su rre c tio n fo r
G arland.
G arland did not possess th e req u isite neg ativ e cap ab ility to resid e iri
an A m erican e ra o f b re a th tak in g changes w ith o u t reaching irrita b ly a f te r f a c t
f !
'and d e te rm in a te conclusions. I have trie d to suggest th a t G arland ad opted
tantim odernism as a way o f dealing w ith an in te rn a l am bivalence to w hich he
I ' i
jreadily a d m itte d only in p riv a te . G arland usually subm erged his co n cern s over!
jhis p ro b lem atic sense o f id e n tity into his unpublished notebooks and journals.j
I
B ut in his published m em oirs, G arland consigned th ese concerns to th e unusable]
p ast. This la st point is cru cial and puts us a t th e e n tra n c e to a study o f G arland's
a c tiv itie s in th e dram a. For w ith _ A Son o f th e Middle B order G arland began
th e c o n stru ctio n of a personal m ythology shaped by carefu lly choosing th a t
m asculine p a rt o f th e p ast th a t was usable in supporting an antim o d ern aesth etic.;
I
Thus G arland te lls little o f his a c tiv e c a re e r as a playw right and d ram a critic.^
!
When he does m ention it, it is sum m arily dism issed. ;
|
The g en eral reaso n fo r G arland's d eletio n of th e dram a from his life!
j
sto ry was o f course his p e rcep tio n o f it as a failed g en re and c o n cu rren t
asso ciatio n of it w ith fem inine values. While G arland's sev en teen plays deserve
a p lace in any historiography of th e dev elo p m en t o f A m erican d ram a p rior to'
World War I, th ey g en erally w ere a e s th e tic and fin an cial failu res. One can'
u n derstand how a w rite r of G arland's public s ta tu re , a w rite r lionized la te in
life as th e D ean o f A m erican L e tte rs , m ight n o t wish to draw a tte n tio n to his
jfailures, noble or o th erw ise. But th e m ore n e ttle so m e problem fo r G arland
jwas how to explain his life-lo n g p a tte rn o f s ta r ts and stops w ith playw righting,
ja fa c t which speaks o f w hat G arland would consider fem inine and p o te n tia lly
I
em b arrassin g in c e rtitu d e . G arland could fe e l sa fe in m aking o b ligatory m entions
of his one published play, U nder th e W heel (1890), w hich he dism issed as a product
o f his ra d ic al days of cam paigning for H enry G eorge's sin g le-tax proposal. But
it would be d ifficu lt fo r G arland to find equally plausible ex planations fo r his
six teen o th e r plays th a t speak o f an a ttra c tio n to th e th e a te r th a t G arland could
I i
n ev er re sist. Even if G arland w anted to fa c e th e im plications o f his in v olvem ent
iwith th e dram a, th e ta sk of accom m odating it to th e n a rra tiv e o f success and
i j
progress in th e M iddle B order autobiographies would have been im possible.j
G arland th e re fo re excised th e dram a from his life as an expedient way to solve
a problem in historiography.
F u rth erm o re, G arland's ex p erien ce w ith th e dram a was full w ith th e
v ery fem inine am b iv alen ce his Middle B order autobiographies sought to resolve.
G arland's early plays and d ram a c ritcism w ere exem plars of the m odern school
of realism . As long as realism in th e d ram a re p re se n te d an a n tid o te to th e
co n triv an ces o f m elodram a, and as long as it p o sited an e x tern al re a lity which'
could be rendered m ore and m ore faith fu lly , G arland subscribed to realism . B ut
w hen notions o f realism began to sh ift in th e e a rly 1900's tow ard exp ressio n istic
re p re se n ta tio n s of an inner psychological re a lity , G arland began to w aver in
>his co m m itm en t. Sim ilarly, on one hand G arland could play a c e n tra l role irt
!
th e developm ent of th e little th e a te r m ovem ent which m ade th e em erg en ce
jof Eugene O 'N eill possible and on th e o th e r c ritic iz e O 'N eill fo r w hat G arland
fe lt was his p essim istic n atu ralism . The d ram a in th e life o f H am lin G arland
i
w as a c o n flicted ex p erien ce w hich was subm erged in to a p a st th a t was n o t usable
in an an tim o d ern program c re a te d sp ecifically to end co n flict.
G arland's e n e rg e tic a c tiv ity in th e th e a te r, esp ecially in his early c a re e r,
did n o t square w ith th e stolid a g ra ria n persona he had c re a te d fo r h im self in
I
Shis M iddle B order autobiographies. To begin w ith, th e pro fessio n al th e a te r
i
was a c ity in stitu tio n th a t served th e g e n tee l classes who had e x tra tim e and
m oney. Such an in stitu tio n was incongruous w ith G arland's M iddle B order. Even
Imore a t odds w ith a ru ra l sen sib ility w as th e d e c e it and tric k e ry th a t underlies
I
1
all th e a tric a l p re sen ta tio n s. Being an a c to r, th a t is, being som eth in g one is
n o t, w as an u n accep tab le e th ic fo r any son o f th e M iddle B order.
But th e re a re tw o fu rth e r, m ore sp ecifically biographical reasons why
G arland re le g a te d th e d ram a to th e unusable p a st. For th e firs t, one should
tu rn to a G arland co n fid an t, th e in flu en tia l lite ra ry h isto rian Van Wyck Brooks,
i
one o f th e ch ief a rc h ite c ts of a usable A m erican c u ltu ra l p a st. Brooks and
G arland w ere kindred sp irits. Both w ere d ependent on th e ir m o th ers and co v ertly
i
contem ptuous o f th e ir fa th e rs , and as children both saw w ritin g as a means'
o f escap e from an oppressive w orld. As adults, both s e t ab o u t th e
o f a usable p ast, in p a rt to p reserv e th e ir m en tal sta b ility . O f Brooks, L ears
>
points o u t, "D uring his la te r y ears, alm o st ev ery th in g Brooks w ro te rev ealed
an e ffo rt to disown his y o u thful im pulses to w ard a e sth e tic ism and p essim istic
i
!
w ithdraw al" (257). It w as th u s no a cc id e n t th a t Brooks re lie d heavily on G arlanc
fo r th e M akers and F inders series (1936-1952) w hich in vented a n a tiv e lite ra ry
creatio n
tra d itio n .7 As Brooks put it, "If we need a n o th e r p ast so badly, is it conceivable
jwe m ight invent one" (qtd. in R eising 13)? B rooks’s invention, p a rtly c o n stru cte d
jwith in fo rm atio n provided by G arland, was a seam less sto ry o f progress in w hich
l i
G arland was an h eir to Howells and an a n c e sto r of C ran e, D reiser, Sherw ood
I
A nderson, and S inclair Lew is. N ot one w ord o f B rooks’ s lite ra ry h isto ry is d evoted
jto G arland as a playw right and d ram a a c tiv ist. In th e fin al volum e o f his h istory,
| I
iThe C on fid en t Y ears (1885-1915), Brooks even fa ils to m ention in a chapter,
e n title d "C hicago: 1910" G arland's w idely p ublicized C hicago T h e a te r S o ciety .1
Nor fo r th a t m a tte r does Brooks anyw here ev er discuss A m erican d ram a or
'playw rights b efo re O’N eill. When he does discuss O’N eill, Brooks m akes su re
i
I
jto n o te how "O’N eill h im self had w ished to be a 'tw o -fiste d Ja c k London he-m an
i
sailo r' ’’ (541). i
| So one very p ra c tic a l reaso n for G arland to je ttiso n th e d ram a from'
i !
his p a st was th a t it did n o t fit into th e h isto ric a l p ro ject u n d ertak en by Van
W yck B rooks.8 G arland strongly endorsed th is p ro je c t since it w as designed
to p re sen t A m ericans w ith a stab le lite ra ry tra d itio n and thus a c le a re r sense
of n atio n al id en tity . G arland's ad h eren ce to his usable p ast a f te r Son o f the:
Middle B order becam e n ear-p ath o lo g ical to th e point th a t his w ork in th e dram aj
was u tte rly e ffa ce d . In one 1931 le tte r to an e d ito r of The S cholastic who had
req u e ste d biographical in fo rm atio n , G arland w ro te a tid y tw o page sum m ary
of his life th a t a sse rts he evolved sm oothly as a w rite r from essay ist to sh o rt
sto ry w rite r to n ovelist to Middle B order h isto rian (#1648). G arland doesn'tj
i
even re fe r to his 1898 biography of U lysses S. G ran t, m uch less his life in the!
dram a. And in 1919 when C h arles C ritte n d e n Baldwin was g a th erin g m a te ria l
fo r a book w hich included one c h a p te r on G arland, he too ran in to th e d ram a
gap in G arland's c a re e r, prom pting him to w rite G arland: "I n o tic e in Who's
27 j
I
Who m ention of you as a d ra m a tis t—y e t no m ention, so fa r as I can see, of anjr
plays" (15 Jan 1919 #919). :
i :
j T here is a second very sp ecific reaso n why G arland w as ten acio u s in
keeping th e d ram a locked in to his unusable p ast: as an overly p ro te c tiv e father,j
he sought to d iv e rt th e am b itio n o f his eld est d au g h ter M ary Isabel to pursue
[a c a re e r as a pro fessio n al a c tre s s . So c o m m itted was G arland to th is goal th a t
when M ary Isabel g rad u ated from th e Finch School in 1922 he bribed her to
postpone her actin g plans w ith a six-m onth to u r of England. When th e y re tu rn e d
from England, G arland o ffe re d h er a p a rt as his a ssista n t re a d e r in his le c tu re
ap p earan ces. G arland did briefly p erm it M ary Isabel to a c t professionally, b ut
only under th e supervision of his tru ste d frien d , A ugustus Thom as, th e
play w rig h t-p ro d u cer. Thom as found a spot fo r M ary Isabel in his com pany,
i
out M ary soon tire d of a th e a tric a l life w hich did n o t m e et h e r ro m an tic
ex p ectatio n s. G arland re jo ic ed a t th is, b ut still was carefu lly silen t about his
{
dram a c a re e r sin ce he had a second d au g h ter, C o n stan ce (b. 1907), whom he
I
wished to save from th e "undesirable com panionships" o f th e a tric a l life .^
N ot u n til G arland w as w ell into his sev en ties—and both o f his daug h ters
w ere safely m arried —did he fe e l co m fo rtab le enough to m ake a few b rie f
com m ents about his a c tiv itie s in th e d ram a. P erhaps G arland ev en tu ally re a lize d
th a t o th ers would m ake th e ir a tte m p ts a t delving in to his unusable p ast. B ecause
he lived so long in to th e new era of ex p o n en tial grow th in p rofessional academ ic]
criticism , dying in 1940 a t th e age o f eighty, G arland w as so licited m any tim e s[
i
by acad em ics who w ished to study his life. A t firs t he m et such re q u e sts with!
bem used d e fe rra ls, b ut w ith tim e he o ffered grudging co o p eratio n to sev eral
who w ere p e rsiste n t. One o f th ese was Eldon Hill o f Ohio S ta te U niversity
whose 1940 PhD d isse rta tio n was th e firs t independent biographical tre a tm e n t
of G arland. Hill w as d eterm in ed to fill in som e of th e gaps in G arland's caree r,
i
i
and fo r his p a rt G arland m ay have been m oved to be som ew hat m ore fo rth co m in g
i
in o rd er to ensure th e a c c u ra cy o f th e re c o rd . Six w eeks b efo re he died, G arland
■responded to H ill's re q u e st fo r m ore in fo rm atio n about his d ram a c a re e r.1
I
A lthough he did so in an u n d e rstate d m anner, G arland o ffers, fin ally , a frank:
i
adm ission: :
W ith reg ard to my w ork in p ro m o tin g th e n ativ e d ram a, it is w orthy
o f n o te, I think, th a t I drew up th e first suggestions fo r an
"Independent T h eater" in B oston, and th a t fo r n early tw e n ty y ears
I w orked w ith How ells, H erne, and B rander M atthew s along th ese
lines. By w ay of a rtic le s le c tu re s and le tte rs to th e T ran scrip t
and o th e r pap ers I clam ored fo r a d ram a th a t should be tru e to
our way o f life and be filled by c h a ra c te rs o f our p la ce and tim e.
T h at I had som e e ffe c t on th e progress o f the playw right is probable.
(22 Ja n 1939 #2174)
This study is o ffe re d larg ely in th e hope of asc e rta in in g w hat th a t e f f e c t
was.
*
; The dram a gap w hich G arland c re a te d in his own c a re e r is w hat th is
stu d y seeks to fill. This study com es a t th e sam e tim e b e lated a tte n tio n is
being paid to th e d ram a c a re e rs o f o th e r w ell-know n A m erican au th o rs o f
G arland's day. Very re c e n tly in A m erican L ite ra ry R ealism has ap p ea re d G eorge
M onteiro's a rtic le , "Stephen C ran e, D ra m a tist" (F all 1986), and th e n Keith'
N ew lin's, " P o rtra it o f a Professional: The Plays of Jac k London" (W inter 1988).'
i
So an exam in atio n o f G arland's c a re e r m ay shed still m ore lig h t on a g en re of;
I
i
A m erican lite ra tu re of w hich we still know re la tiv e ly little . I
i
D espite G arland's own p ercep tio n of his d ram a c a re e r as a fa ilu re , one
i
can arg u e th a t it c o n stitu te s G arland's m ost enduring though u n c re d ited
co n trib u tio n to A m erican lite ra tu re . Ironically, G arland m ay be a v ictim o f
th e very R o o seveltian e th ic of m anliness w hich he sought to uphold by concealing
his d ram a c a re e r. For w hile it rem ains a problem to d eterm in e th e influence
i
i
of M ain-T ravelled R oads, I hope to show th a t th e grow th o f m odern A m erican
dram a a f te r World War I can be a ttrib u te d in p a rt to th e w ork o f G arland,1
i
esp ecially as a c ritic and d ram a a c tiv ist. Indeed, G arland's sig n ifican ce m ay
u ltim a te ly re s t upon his conscious life-lo n g e ffo rt to a c t as a m ed iato r betw een1
j
high literary culture and popular culture. For example, as a lecturer Garland
Jcould take a popular icon such as the star actor Edwin Booth and accommodate
his performance to the new theories of literary realism. Garland also worked
to disseminate the influence of such foreign dramatists as Ibsen, Maeterlinck,
and Shaw. He did this through his written editorials, his relationship with such
i
'A m erican playw rights as Jam es A. H erne, and th e founding of tw o little th e a te rs .
Two m etaphors a re o p e ra tiv e h ere. One is th a t G arland sought to becom e
a kind of lite ra ry tr a f f ic cop who m ight serve a t th e in te rse c tio n o f m ajor lite ra ry
^currents, deciding w hat could pass. This fu n ctio n b ecam e p a rtic u la rly visible
a f te r his electio n in 1918 to th e A m erican A cadem y o f A rts and L e tte rs . A nother
t
is th a t G arland occupied th e seam dividing high c u ltu re from popular cu ltu re ,
I
th e in tellig en tsia from th e bourgeoisie. W elcom e in both cam ps, though
jcom pletely a t hom e in n e ith e r, G arland w as in a position to fo s te r dialogue.
Y et th e fa te o f m any c u ltu ra l m ed iato rs is th a t w ith tim e th e ir w ork recedes!
i
from view since it is usually m an ifest in ep h em eral form s. Much o f G arland'sj
w ritings on th e d ram a ex ists in ad v ertisin g c irc u lars, advance press k its for;
to u rin g plays, co m m em o rativ e play program s, le tte r s to th e e d ito r, m inutes
of dram a club m eetings, co rrespondence, and unpublished le c tu re m an uscripts.
Such discourse m ust be pulled in from th e m argins o f lite ra ry h isto ry in order
to assess m ore a c c u ra te ly G arland's d ram a c a re e r.
30
I w ill th e re fo re try to lo c a te G arlan d ’s co m p lete d ram a c a re e r in th e
c o n tex t o f both his life and w ork as a whole and th e histo ry of A m erican d ram a.
I seek to avoid, as som e o th ers have n o t, com m ending G arland’ s m odernism;
and deploring his antim odernism , in fav o r of try in g to explain th em and howj
i
th ese dual im pulses a re re p re se n te d in his w ork. It is by now of little use to
defend or a tta c k G arland's s ta tu s in A m erican le tte rs . The m an who w rote
|
[M ain-Travelled R oads, who discovered S tephen C rane and helped g e t him'
published, who led th e fig h ts fo r p re serv a tio n o f the n atio n al w ilderness and
jfor responsible hum ane tre a tm e n t o f A m erican Indians, whose A _ Son o f th e
‘ Middle B order W illiam D ean H ow ells p raised as th e first A m erican epic of its
kind and w hose _ A D aughter o f th e M iddle B order won th e P u litze r P rize in 1921,
who Was th e friend of P resid en ts as w ell as n e arly every p rom inent A m erican
I
and B ritish au th o r o f his d a y -s u c h a m an c e rta in ly needs no apologists. W hat
he needs—and w hat he rew ard s—is an e ffo rt o f understanding.
31
NOTES TO CHAPTER ONE
1 In chronological o rd er, th e co m p lete bibliography of scholarship on
G arland's long d ram a c a re e r: 1) Donald P izer's survey of G arland's in v o lv em en t
iwith H erne and o th e rs in ''The R ad ical D ram a in B oston, 1889-91" (1958); th is
a rtic le was th e foundation o f a c h a p te r e n title d "R eform ing th e T h e a ter" in
his book, H am lin G arland's E arly Work and C a re e r (1960). P izer's w ork is the|
m o st useful, b u t is lim ited in its focus. 2) Ja n e F ran ces E arley's unpublished
[dissertation, "An Edition o f Ham in G arland's M iller of Boscobel" (1969), w hich
is lim ited to a discussion of th is G arland play p erfo rm ed in 1909. 3) W arren
jM otley's stu d y of G arland's only published play, "H am lin G arland's U nder th e
jwheel: R egionalism U nm asking A m erica" (1983). In th e ir h isto ries, A rth u r Hobson
^ u in n and W alter M eserve have m ade d u tifu l b ut b rie f m entions of G arland's
relatio n sh ip w ith playw right Jam e s A. H erne.
j
| 2 This count does n o t include G arland's o p era lib re tto and tw o plays
found w ritte n into his notebooks, all th re e o f w hich a re discussed fully in C h ap ter
[4. This count does not include num erous scen ario s in G arland's notebooks fo r
pother plays w hich if tu rn ed into co m p leted m an u scrip ts, a re now lo st.
| ^ p > or a useful study o f G arland's co n cep tio n o f the w om an, see Gary,
A llen C u lb ert, "H am lin G arland's Im age o f W oman: An A llegiance to Id eality"
diss. U niversity of W isconsin, 1974.
4 An ex ten d ed e x c e rp t from th is sp eech ap p ears in C h ap ter 4.
5 From S tephen C ran e's in terview w ith H ow ells which ap p eared in th e
New Y ork T im es 28 O cto b er 1894: 20.
6 G arland ex p licitly s ta te d his g u ilt feelings in _ A D aughter o f th e M iddle
B order (1921) w hen discussing his m o ther's d eath : "It is tru e I had done m any
co n sid erate things fo r h e r but I had not done enough. Money I had given her,
and a hom e, b u t I had n ot given h er as m uch o f my tim e , my serv ice, as I m ight
have done,—as I should have done" (213).
7 Brooks in itia te d an a c tiv e co rrespondence w ith G arland in 1925 w hich
continued u n til G arland's d eath (See #1150). Brooks o fte n called upon G arland
fo r in fo rm atio n ab o u t his lite ra ry c o n tem p o raries. Brooks, in cid en tally , w as
|the one m ost responsible for persuading G arland to donate his papers en m asse|
ito one in stitu tio n , ra th e r th an p arcellin g th em out to sev eral u n iv ersities o r
even destro y in g th em . j
8 Van Wyck Brooks was also c a re fu l to acco m m o d ate th e w ork of a m ajor
jfem ale h isto rio g rap h er, C on stan ce R ourke, to his h isto ric a l p ro je c t. Brooks
iwrote th e p re fa c e fo r R ourke's posthum ous The R oots o f A m erican C u ltu re
(New York, 1942) w hich w as a lively series of essays in w hich R ourke a tte m p te d
to m ake co nnections b etw een lite ra tu re , a r t, m usic, and folklore. Though R ourke
g en erally a c c e p te d th e fem inine n a tu re o f th e A m erican dram a, in a len g th y
c h a p te r on "The R ise of T h eatricals" she m ain tain s th e dram a "need n o t be
co unted a failu re" (107). N onetheless, B rooks is unequivocal about R ourke:
32;
"To prove th e e x isten c e o f th is A m erican e sth e tic tra d itio n , to re v e a l it in
m anifold w ays w as C o n stan ce R ourke’ s purpose in a ll h er w ritings" (viii). I
(
® See B ack -T railers, pp. 335-337, fo r G arland's acco u n t o f M ary Isabel's
ex p erien ce in th e th e a te r. This acco u n t, lik e any in G arland's autobiographies,'
should not be a c c e p te d unquestioningly. G arland stra in s to show M ary Isabel
Jquit a ctin g o f h er own volition, but in a le tte r to A ugustus Thom as he rev ealed
this irrita tio n w ith M ary Isabel over h er actin g plans (2 M ar 1923 #3736). G arland's
d au g h ters w ere n o t so com p lian t as he im agined th em . In my co n v ersatio n with'
.G arland's d au g h ters on June 3, 1987, C o n stan ce com plained of h er fa th e r, "He
w as alw ays p u ritan ical."
PART ONE
THE DRAMA IN THE LIFE OF HAMLIN GARLAND
__4
CHAPTER TWO
THE CHILD OF MELODRAMA
I
1860-1887
I
On th e day H annibal H am lin G arland w as born, S ep tem b er 14, I8 6 0 ,1
a resid en t o f New Y ork C ity who was planning an evening a t a B roadw ay th eater,
I
would have had a num ber o f choices. If he had n ot alread y done so, he m ight'
have tak en th e op p o rtu n ity to see The W orld’s G re a te s t H it—and th e g re a te s t
m elodram a of all tim e —G eorge A iken's d ra m a tiz a tio n of U ncle Tom 's C abin
a t th e New Bowery T h e a te r.1 Or he m ight have rued m issing Dion B oucicault's
m elo d ram a The C olleen Bawn when it d eb u ted th e previous spring a t Laura'
K een e's V arieties, and thus would have resolved to c atc h th e la te s t production:
jof B ulw er-L ytton's durable m elodram a, The Lady of Lyons, a t th e old Bow ery.
I
Or he m ight have sp en t tw e n ty -fiv e c en ts to s it in th e g allery of Niblo's G arden
J
!to see A m erica’s firs t g re a t s ta r a c to r, Edwin F o rre st, o ffer his bo m b astic
I
p o rtra y a l o f O thello as th e noble victim of th a t arch -v illain Iago. O r if our
1
New York th e a te rg o e r had been to E urope, he m ight have sh ared w ith H enry1
Jam es an ad m iratio n fo r S cribe's w ell-m ade plays, and gone to W allach's Lyceum
to see its ad ap tatio n of th e com edy B ataille de D am es. F inally, if he was a!
w orking m an, he m ight have passed up B roadw ay a lto g e th e r and v en tu red south
ito th e M elodeon c o n c e rt hall for its v a rie ty p rogram o f m usic, dancing, burlesque,j
I O !
and c h a ra c te r m onologues—all fo r th e adm ission p rice of six c e n ts .£ j
I o ffe r th is b rie f survey of options as a re p re se n ta tiv e cata lo g u e for.
I
th e th e a te r in A m erica a t th e tim e H am lin G arland was horn. T hree m ain|
I
conclusions are to be m ade beyond n oting th e ro b u st lev el of th e a tric a l a c tiv ity .j
F irst, th e bill o f fa re w as dom inated by th e m elodram a. Indeed, th e y e a r 1860]
brought A m erica to th e beginning of th e explosive grow th of m elodram a, ledj
35j
oy B oucicault and A ugustin D aly. This g re a t age o f sta g e m elodram a would'
J
la s t u n til 1880 when lo c al color realism began to supplant it. Second, in 1860
no A m erican n ativ e had y e t estab lish ed a su ccessfu l c a re e r as a playw right.
O f th e playw rights m en tioned above only G eorge A iken was an A m erican, and
I 1
his renow n re ste d upon a single play. While th e re had been p rior achievem ents^
| i
by A m erican playw rights, notab ly Anna C ora M ow att's Fashion (1845), Broadway!
audien ces seem ed c o n te n t w ith a m ix o f th e estab lish ed B ritish re p e rto ry , F rench
a d ap ta tio n s, and S h ak esp eare. T hird, as th e p o p u larity o f S crib e’s w ell-m ade
slays suggest, d ra m a tic p ra c tic e placed th e em phasis on p lo t, follow ing qu ite
b re scrip tiv ely th e A risto te lia n principles of c o n stru ctio n . A udiences m ost valued;
i |
a good sto ry in w hich c h a ra c te rs serv ed as sym bolic fig u res o f good and evil.'
It would be som e tim e b e fo re H ow ellsian realism began to re v e rse th e ascendancy
of p lo t over c h a ra c te r.
So to th e e x te n t th e young H am lin G arland was aw are of Broadw ay,'
one m ight ex p ect him to be a tru e child of m elodram a to whom th e idea m ight
n ev er have o ccu rred th a t th e re could even be such a thing as an A m erican
i
playw right. (This is not th e le a st o f th e reasons G arland first co n n ected to
Jthe th e a te r through a s ta r a c to r, Edwin Booth, ra th e r th an a playw right.) Nor
: I
would such a child be fa m ilia r w ith a d ram atu rg y of c h a ra c te r in stead o f p lo tJ
My point sim ply is th a t H am lin G arland was no born re a list. One could not
i
have p re d ic ted th a t he would ta k e his p lace am ong th e shock troops o f modern!
|
realism . T hat he did so m ay have been as m uch a su rp rise to h im self as anyone.!
i
The te n ta tiv e brand of v eritism to w hich G arland ev en tu ally acced ed does re fle c t
how d ifficu lt it was fo r G arland to stra p on th e a rm o r of re a lism over a soul
i
born to m elodram a. !
This p o in t would o f course gain in cred en ce if it could be shown th a t
jthe young H am lin G arland was indeed a w are o f A m erican d ram a, fo r a f te r a llj
I i
H am lin G arland w as n ot born in New Y ork C ity b ut on a sm all farm in W est
!
jSalem, W isconsin, n early 1,200 m iles aw ay by railro ad . One m ay rely , how ever,1
th a t even a t such an o u tp o st and even given th e e ffe c ts o f th e C ivil War, th a t
H am lin G arland a tta in e d in his early y ears a re la tiv e ly high deg ree o f aw aren ess
of th e dram a.
It m ust be re c alle d th a t G arland's fam ily w ere W isconsin im m ig ran ts.
G arland's fa th e r R ichard, was born in M aine in 1831 and lived in B oston from
1840-49 w here he h eard E m erson and W ebster and becam e a stau n ch ab o litio n ist.
i
In T rail-M akers o f th e M iddle B order (1926), H am lin G arland's biography of
i :
h is fa th e r, a lengthy acco u n t is given of R ich ard G arland's love for th e th e a te r:
N ight school seem ed an in ju stic e, for it cu t in to [R ichard's] ch ief
] am u sem en t, th e th e a te r.
] He loved th e play. Every g allery s e a t in B oston soon becam e,
known to him , but th e H ow ard A thenaeum was his fa v o u rite
re s o rt. From th e grim y wooden benches of th e p ean u t g allery
he looked down on Junius B rutus Booth [fath e r of Edwin] in m any
a classic ro le . . . .
T h ere w ere not m any th e a te rs in B oston in 1848 and th e
lad saw all th e g re a t a c to rs who cam e. He applauded C h a rlo tte
C ushm an and Ju lia D eane, and th rilled w ith aw e as Edwin Forrest!
ro ared th e lines o f th e G lad iato r or stalk ed about th e sta g e as
O thello. F o rre st was . . . an o ra to r ra th e r than an a c to r, and
th e in ferio r to B rutus Booth so fa r as R ichard's ju d g m en t was
c o n c e rn e d .(43-44) I
G arland goes on to describ e how th e popular play Mose in C alifo rn ia ,j
which included th e fam ous gold-rush d itty , "Oh, Susannah," inflam ed his fath er'sj
in te re st in m oving to th e W est. W hatever c irc u m sta n tia l in accu racies th ere'
a re in G arland's acco u n t of his fa th e r's life , it cannot be doubted th a t R ichard
G arland passed on to his son an in te re s t in and thorough understanding o f th e
th e a te r in th e E astern c itie s. In A Son o f th e Middle B order, G arland o ffers
[this childhood m em ory of his fa th e r:
37|
He loved to te ll of his life tin Boston], and it is in d icativ e of|
his c h a ra c te r to say th a t he dw elt w ith sp ecial joy and pride
on th e a c to rs and o rato rs he had heard. He could d escrib e some|
of th e g re a t scenes and re p e a t a few o f th e h ero ic lines of|
S hakespeare, and th e roll of his deep voice as he d eclaim ed . . .j
th rilled us—filled us w ith d esire o f som ething fa r o ff and
w onderful. (8)
From his e a rlie s t days, then, H am lin G arland envisioned a rom antic'
jescape to th e th e a te r. This ro m ance poin ted him to th e c u ltu ra l shrines in th e
E a st, b ut since his fa th e r's ro m an ce pointed to w ard th e prom ise of ric h e r
farm lan d s in th e W est, th e G arlands m oved from W isconsin to Iowa in 1869.
I
'Although th e eight y ear-o ld G arland w as now fa rth e r from New York, he did
not have to depend e n tire ly on his im agination fo r c o n ta c t w ith th e th e a te r.l
'c o n tra ry to w hat one m ight e x p ec t, the Iowa fro n tie r was n o t devoid o f c u ltu ra l
life . We know from indep en d en t so u rces th a t in M itchell C ounty, w here th e
I
G arland farm was lo c a te d , th e C ounty F a ir was held each au tu m n in la te
| i
S ep tem b er or early O c to b e r.3 in th e w in te r th e B urr O ak G rove schoolhouse
!
hosted o y ster suppers fe a tu rin g d eb ates, songs, and sk its. The annual G range
I ■ j
Picnic was a m ajor ev en t on June 12th, and of course, th e circus cam e to M itchell;
C ounty every sum m er. A t such ev en ts, th e a tric a l enough in th em selv es, th e re
I
o fte n w ere fo rm al p re sen ta tio n s of scen es from S hakespeare and o th e r popular;
i
slays. For exam ple, G arland m entions seeing a p erfo rm an ce o f Lord D undreary j
i
in th e w in ter of 1876 a t th e B arker schoolhouse. A y ear la te r as a stu d e n t o f 1
| i
th e C ed ar Valley Sem inary, G arland w ent so fa r as to o rg an ize a d ra m a tic
lo m p an y in w hich he played th e p a rt o f a juvenile lover in His B ro th er's K eep er.4 ,
But G arland's c o n ta c t w ith th e th e a te r need n ot have been r e s tr ic te d 1
j
to a m a te u r p re sen ta tio n s. Jo seph S. Schick in The Early T h e a te r in E astern
Iowa (1939) has shown th a t th e re w ere m any a c tiv e re sid en t sto ck com panies
jwhose productions w ere c u rre n t w ith th o se in New Y ork.5 In D avenport, Iowa,
U ncle Tom 's C abin ap p eared as early as 1856, and th e vau n ted M cVickers T heater.
— — — — ........ ,
I
o f C hicago fo rm ed a D avenport com pany in 1859.
And in 1860, fa r aw ay in New Y ork, a sta rtlin g innovation from Dion
B oucicault would re su lt in th e d ire c t ex p o rt o f B roadw ay to th e provinces. By
1860, w ith The C olleen Baw n, The Q ctaroon and The Poor o f New Y ork to his
c re d it, th e Irish-born B oucicault had becom e th e m ost prom inent and pow erful
p ro d u cer-p lay w rig h t in A m erica. In th e absence o f copyright law s, his ex trem ely
pop u lar plays w ere openly pirated.® B oucicault's response w as th e estab lish m en t'
I !
Jof th e "com bination" system by which a single B roadw ay play w as se n t on to u r
w ith its original c a st. By sw iftly m oving a New Y ork production around th e
^country wholly in ta c t and including its s ta r a c to r, B oucicault could fo re sta ll
jits p re sen ta tio n by sto ck com panies.^ B oucicault successfully trie d out th e
com bination system in England, and when th e T ran sco n tin en tal R ailro ad was
jcom pleted in 1869, th e com bination system b ecam e th e dom inant m ode of.
production u n til w ell in to th e early 1900's. The p red ictab le re su lt for th e
i
^American th e a te r was th e so lid ificatio n of th e s ta r system w ith its co n co m itan t
[type-casting (e.g. Joseph Je ffe rso n to u red in th e title role of Rip Van Winkle
a lm o st co n stan tly from 1866 to 1905; Jam e s O 'N eill, Eugene's fa th e r, m ade—and
lo s t—sev eral fo rtu n es playing th e role o f th e hero in The C ount o f M onte C risto
over six thousand tim es from 1883-1910). The happy re su lt for a boy on thej
p rairie like H am lin G arland was th e o p p o rtu n ity to see th e best from Broadway,)
w hich is to say, to becom e fully in d o c trin a te d to th e m elo d ram atic w orld view
th a t was th e foundation o f A m erican popular cu ltu re in th e n in e te e n th cen tu ry .
The basic e le m e n t o f th is m elo d ram atic w orld view was th e
co n cep tu alizatio n of life as a b a ttle betw een good and evil, betw een th e hero
and th e villain. H am lin G arland's early c o n ta c t w ith th e th e a te r serv ed to.
39
re in fo rc e and re fle c t a m elo d ram atic vision th a t alread y was in p lace in his
fam ily from th e v ery beginning o f his life. In A Son o f th e Middle B order G arland
leasts th is e a rlie s t m em ory of childhood as if it w ere th e scen ario o f a m elodram a:
The e a rlie s t dim scen e in my m em ory is th a t o f a so ft
w arm evening. I am crad led in th e lap of my siste r H a rrie t who
is s ittin g on th e d oorstep b en eath a low roof. It is m id-sum m erj
and a t our fe e t lies a m at o f d a rk -g re e n grass from w hich a frog
I is croaking. The sta rs a re o u t, and above th e high hills to th e
e a st a m y sterious glow is g lo rifying th e sky. The cry o f th e sm all
[frog] a t la st conveys to m y siste r's mind a notion of d istress,
and rising she p eers closely along th e p ath. S ta rtin g back w ith
a cry o f alarm , she calls and my m o th er hurries o u t. She, too,!
exam ines th e ground, and a t la s t points o u t to me a long strip e d
snake w ith a poor, shrieking little tre e -to a d in its m outh. The|
h o rro r o f th is scene fixes it in my m ind. My m o th er b e a ts th e ‘
serp en t w ith a stick . The m angled victim h asten s aw ay, and
th e c u rta in falls. (5)
It is o f m ajor sig n ifican ce th a t a fifty -fiv e y ear-o ld G arland should
I
s e le c t a d ram a he w itnessed as a four y ear-o ld boy to begin his autobiography.
I
I
This episode ad h eres to th e classic s tru c tu re of m elodram a: a hero, responding
i
,to a m aiden's call fo r help, b a ttle s a villainous in te rlo p e r to save h er. In th is
i »
p a rtic u la r re e n a c tm e n t o f S atan 's invasion o f E den, th e serp en t also o v ertly
sym bolizes th e sexual th r e a t which in m elodram a is n early alw ays a t th e h e a rt
j
o f th e villainy. j
But th e re is one im p o rtan t a sp e c t o f G arland's boyhood m elodram a
i
which d ev iates from th e classic m odel. In th e scen e described above, th e hero
is a w om an not a m an. It is G arland’s m o th er, n o t his fa th e r, who answ ers th e
h eroine's call. T here is a reasonable ex p lan atio n fo r this. G arland's father}
»
was aw ay fighting for th e Union A rm y for th e la s t tw o y ears of th e C ivil W ar.1
A ccordingly, one can n o t u n d e re stim ate th e e f f e c t it had on th e fo rm atio n of
th e young G arland's s e lf-id e n tity n ot to have known his fa th e r u n til he was a
I
five y ear-o ld boy. For one thing, G arland would have asso ciated th e dram aj
I
I
w ith fem inine ra th e r th an m asculine v alu es. T h at his m oth e r was th e hero of;
his m elodram a could w ell have c o n trib u te d to G arland's fie rc e id e aliza tio n o f
w om en in all his w ritings. M oreover, it would have been his m o th er who took'
1
G arland to his firs t C ounty F airs and o th e r public e n te rta in m e n ts, so th a t G arland
i
would have view ed th e th e a te r as an essen tially fem inine e n te rp rise —giving
us one m ore clue why G arland would la te r drop th e th e a te r from his personal'
histo ry once he em b raced m anliness as an e th ic for his au to b io g rap h ical w ritings. \
In L acanian te rm s, th e young G arland's resid en ce in th e m irro r stag e,
in w hich a child believes it has form ed an a d eq u a te re p re se n ta tio n of its e lf
by view ing o th e r d isc re te selfs, w as sp en t view ing only his m o th er. In m ost
jcases, th is im aginary o rd er gives w ay to w hat L acan calls th e sym bolic order
when th e child acq u ires language and re a lize s th e im possibility of his desire
jfor th e m o th er, and thus of all d esire, b ecau se th e way is b a rre d by th e father.®,
A child usually responds by rep ressin g his d esire, thus su b m ittin g to a process
jof sym bolic loss as th e n ecessary condition fo r en terin g th e com m unity and
re a lizin g th e self. B ut a su b stitu te for this loss is discovered in language, an
jendless chain of sig n ifiers th a t is alien to itse lf, and through w hich all notions
'of th e se lf m ust com e. Language th e re fo re is o fte n reg ard ed iro n ically due1
I I
to th e child's p ercep tio n of both its pow er to c o n stru ct and its w eakness to
1
re a liz e co m pletely th e o b jects of expression. ;
But G arland's childhood w as n ot ty p ic a l b ecause a t th e m om ent he
acq u ired language his fa th e r was ab sen t, indeed n o t even a p resen ce in m em ory.
This m ean t th a t G arland was n o t aw are o f th e im possibility of his d esire for
th e m o th er, nor was he com pelled to rep ress those desires and a c c e p t th e idea
of loss. Language thus began fo r G arland as a stab le relatio n sh ip betw een
sig n ifier and signified. The false p re-lin g u istic sense o f self em erging in th e
m irro r sta g e was abnorm ally ex ten d ed p ast th e m om ent he acq u ired language.;
41
N orm ally one passes out of im aginary o rd er o f th e m irror sta g e once one acq u ires
language, but G arland acq u ired language w ell b e fo re he was v iolently w renched
in to th e sta g e of th e sym bolic o rd er by th e a rriv a l of his fa th e r from th e w ar.
I 1
The re su lt was an obvious id e n tity crisis in w hich his prior co n cep t o f language
as ally was overnight su p planted by th e co n cep t o f language as alien . In sum j
G arland w as bound to develop a w orld view b ased upon m elo d ram atic p o laritiesJ
th e fem inine (good) is opposed to th e m asculine (evil); language as p resen ce
i
is opposed to language as absen ce. .
G arland could n o t reco n cile such p o la ritie s w ith iro n ical a c c e p ta n c e .1
I
Irony sees a single o b ject or phenom enon as a double thing com posed o f good
i
and bad elem en ts. The iro n ist, like a H ow ells or a Jam es, sees both th e fic tio n
i !
jand th e re a lity of happy endings, and d e lib e ra te ly calls a tte n tio n to th e
unlikelihood o f th e p erm an en ce o f any com ic reso lu tio n . The m e lo d ra m a tist
like G arland, how ever, sees a single o b ject as e ith e r good or bad. G arland could
n o t h ave view ed his fa th e r's re tu rn from th e w ar equivocally. G arland's fa th e r
was no p re-estab lish ed c o m p e tito r, but th e classic intruding villain of m elodram a.
So G arland w as fo rce d to a c c e p t th e role of a m elo d ram atic hero who w ith
i
Jdeadly seriousness m ust conquer th e villain w hile e x actin g rev en g e and driving
I
him o u t. Like O edipus, G arland w as o f course doom ed to failu re as a hero,j
'and so he ev en tu ally escap ed from his fam ily a lto g e th e r. But th e resid u al sense
I f being b e tra y e d by fa te s w hich had d e a lt w ith him unjustly se t G arland on
a w riting c a re e r in w hich he continually re e n a c te d th e p itc h e d b a ttle o f
m elodram a.
These b a ttle s so m etim es ended in loss, esp ecially early in his c a re e r
as in th e sto ry "U nder th e Lion's Paw ," and so m etim es ended in v ic to ry as in
"Among th e C orn Row s." But th ey alm o st alw ays began from a m elo d ram atic
42
im pulse in w hich sides w ere chosen up b efo reh an d . Thus w hat seem s to be(
G arland's sh ift from realism to ro m an ticism a f te r 1895, is in fa c t a sh ift in
!
m elo d ra m a tic d ram atu rg y from a p o etics o f d e fe a t to a p o etics o f v icto ry . j
!
As if th e conditions o f his early childhood w ere not enough to determ inej
G arland as a child o f m elodram a, th e re w ere also th e values G arland's fatherj
did im p art to his son once he re tu rn e d from th e C ivil W ar. To th e eld er G arland,
th e C ivil War was n o t fought over th e p o litic a l issue o f s ta te s ' rig h ts b u t over,
the m oral issue o f slav ery . A re so lu te a b o litio n ist, R ichard G arland enlisted,
in th e Union A rm y to help stam p out th e evil o f slav ery . It was n a tu ra l for
him to im p art his fie rc e ly held m oral beliefs to his child ren , and H am lin G arland
i ‘
I
could re c a ll how his fa th e r took him in 1877 to see th e fam ous fo rm er abolitionist!
o ra to r W endell Phillips (Son 201). Through his in cessan t acco u n ts of his serv ice
under Sherm an in th e C ivil War, G arland's fa th e r ta u g h t him to see a m o ral
j !
universe p ain ted in sta rk c o n tra st b etw een good and evil. It th e re fo re seem s'
lo g ical th a t H am lin G arland should go on to becom e a n o ted social reform er,;
but th e m o tivation fo r th is was less a m odern co m m itm en t to hum an eq u ality
J !
than a psychological need to e n a c t a m elo d ram atic m oral triu m p h .
Basing an understanding o f G arland's m elo d ram atic w orld view upon|
psychological analysis seem s especially ju stifia b le in lig h t o f G arland's own
v irtu al a u th o riz atio n of such analysis. G arland begins A Son of th e M iddle B order,
i
in th is way: i
The em erg en ce of an individual consciousness from th e 1
void is, a f te r all, th e m ost am azing f a c t o f hum an life and I should!
like to spend m uch of th is first c h a p te r in groping about in thej
lum inous shadow o f my in fan t w orld b ecau se, deeply considered,!
childish im pressions a re th e fu n d am en tals upon w hich an author's]
fic tio n a l o u t-p u t is based . . . . (4-5) j
Having a c c e p te d G arland's in v itatio n to consider deeply his childishj
im p ressio n s,JL m ain tain th a t all o f G arlands_L'fictional o u t-p ut" w as th e product
of a writer with a firmly entrenched melodramatic world view. When Garland
i
was p rep arin g to leav e his hom e upon g rad u atio n from th e C ed ar V alley S em inary
in 1881, he w as co n fid en t th a t he was going fo rth as th e hero in his own ro m an ce.
jEven a classm ate in d icates her reco g n itio n o f G arland's th e a tric a liz e d persona.
Signing an au to g rap h card to him on g rad u atio n day, Leona C all in scrib ed to
G arland th ese lines from S hakespeare: "A ct w ell your p a rt—T here a ll th e honorj
I i
lies" (#709-a).
G arland indeed had le arn ed th e ro le o f th e hero by h e a rt. M any o f his
early a tte m p ts a t w ritin g in B oston w ere plays w hich w ere fic tio n a l projections^
o f h im self as th e m elo d ram atic hero who saves th e g irl from a so cial ev il made.
m an ifest in th e villain. An e n try in G arland's personal notebook in th e y ear
i ;
1 i
1885 serves as undeniable evidence o f G arland's ingrained m elo d ram atic vision: !
i
I have a d ream w hich co n stan tly re c u rs to m e. The
c h a ra c te rs how ever like a sto ck th e a tric a l co. ev er tak in g new
c h a ra c te rs. I
A p a rty of th re e a re riding through a sile n t and [Iolian?]!
fo re s t, riding each on jingling b ell-b estru ck p alfrey s gorgeously,
cap araiso n ed . F irst rid er's a w hiskered knight in g litte rin g s te e l,
his m ustachios stood stiffly out a t side like a tab b y c a t . . .
a lto g e th e r he seem s in bad fram e o f m ind. A m bling a f te r are;
tw o lad ies in th e b e au tifu l dress of m edieval tim e s. One a g racio u s;
lady of m iddle age . . . . ■
A fte r h e r a dam sel o f so fa ir a m ien . . . th a t I w onden
how old w hiskers rides on so frigidly in advance.
In th e m usic o f th e tin k ly bells, th e g re a t ru stlin g branches
o f th e a n cie n t oaks, th e low sw eet voices o f th e lad ies growi
s o fte r and . . . a so ft blue m ist enw raps th e scen e. I am ju st
on th e point of fo rg e ttin g th em w hen lo! like an arro w y beam!
o f m orning lig h t a laughing fa re h aired young K night with]
stre am in g h air and ra ttlin g arm o r on splendid m ount runs full
ti l t ag ain st th e side of w hiskers, strik in g him w ith th e blunt end,
o f th e lan ce and rolling him from his horse. He kisses his hand
to th e gracious, siezes th e b e a u tifu l in his arm [,] gives one|
sm o th erin g , convulsive, devouring kiss and flash es up a broadj
g reen aisle o f th e fo re s t and is gone. I laugh till all th e fo rest
rings and—w ake. (#13)
44'
This p lot in w hich th e ch iv alric knight w rests a b eau tifu l young d am sel
from th e clu tch es o f a n o th e r old er m an was th e sine non quon o f G arland's writing!
c a re e r.
G arland's firs t play, Love or th e L aw , is a case in point. The w ritin g
t
jOf th is play m ay be reliab ly p laced b etw een M arch and N ovem ber o f 1887, for'
G arland's own d atin g o f th e typed m an u scrip t as ''M ar. 1887" is co rro b o ra te d
I
by Joseph K irkland's re fe re n c e to th e play in a le tte r to G arland, N ovem ber
13, 1 8 8 7 . 9 Even though th e play was not finished, a t n early 8,000 w ords it w as
alm ost c ertain ly G arland's firs t a tte m p t a t a lo n g er w ork. O f th e th re e years^
I i
he had so fa r lived in B oston, his firs t y ear beginning in O cto b er o f 1884 had
- t
b een d ev o ted to read in g and studying in th e B oston Public L ibrary. D uring th e
n ex t tw o y ears G arland secu red a position as a le c tu re r in A m erican lite r a tu r e
and published one sh o rt sto ry and tw o poem s, four very sh o rt d escrip tiv e sk etch es
I i
o f p ra irie life , and seven book review s for th e B oston Evening T ran sc rip t—w hich
also p rin ted his panegyric to Edwin B ooth. So it is in d icativ e o f G arland's
^early am bitions and his em o tio n al and lite ra ry a tta c h m e n t to th e th e a te r th a t
j ;
when he a t la st sa t h im self down to w rite his firs t fu ll-len g th professional work'
th a t it should be a dram a, m ore sp ecifically th e m elodram a Love or th e L aw .
This m elodram a concerns a b e au tifu l young w om an nam ed Ellen whoj
jhas fled th e ex p lo itatio n of her older husband who em ploys her as a singer in,
h is tra v e llin g m edicine show. This elix ir salesm an bills his rem edy as "The King
of P ain." The play opens te n y ears in th e p a st a t a C ounty F air in Iowa w here,
!
"D octor L ytle" cynically and greedily a n tic ip a te s fleecin g "th e clod-hoppers."j
Ellen does n ot wish to co ntinue in th e show, but h er husband fo rces h er to go'
on. A farm lad by th e n am e o f R anee Knapp "a handsom e youth o f eig h teen
or n in eteen " tak es in th e show and is hau n ted by Ellen's "sad and dream ing face.";
45
When a big coarse fellow n ear R anee in sin u ates th a t Ellen is not th e p ro p rieto r's
i
w ife but his w hore, th e G arland-K napp c h a ra c te r runs him off in th e grand m anner
of th e m elo d ram atic hero: i
j "I don’t know w hat m akes h er look so sad , but I
j know she's pure and good, an' no dam sneak is going t',
! call h e r nam es if I’m big enough to pound him . She’s his
j w ife an’ I’ll n ot liste n t ’ lies."!*
I
I
Ten y ears pass w ith R anee Knapp having been to B oston w here he becam e
"a te a c h e r and a ra d ic al." R an ee re tu rn s to his hom etow n in Iow a to a c c e p t
a post as p rincipal o f th e C ed arv ille school. T h ere he discovers th a t th e a ssista n t
p rin cip al is a single w om an nam ed Ellen Loring, who in fa c t had s e c re tly changed
her la s t nam e w hen she ran aw ay from h er husband. R anee can n o t re c a ll where'
i
he has seen Ellen b efo re, but he te lls a frien d , "T here a re lines on h er fa c e w hich1
I
itell she is a w om an w ith a sto ry . . . a sad h isto ry ." The c u rta in falls on th e
firs t a c t as th e b ew itch ed R anee d eterm in es to le arn Ellen's sto ry .
T here th e m anuscript ends, b u t it is c le a r w here G arland was headed,'
|
esp ecially w hen one considers G arland's freq u e n t use o f th e lo v e -tria n g le p lo t
i
in w hich a b achelor falls in love w ith an unhappily m arried w om an and tak es
I
h er aw ay from a m iserable m arriag e held to g e th e r only by law . This is th e
I
p rem ise of G arland's play scen ario F rankness (#59 1904-5), and o f th e sto ry
"A B ranch R oad" from M ain-T ravelled R oads. In Love or th e L aw , R anee and
E llen a re d estin ed to fall in love, but R anee w ill le a rn th a t Ellen is s till legally
m arried to th e villainous elix ir salesm an, H erm ann L y tle. E llen w ill be faced
w ith th e sam e m oral dilem m a as A lice in "A B ranch Road": opt fo r love withj
I
h e r sen sitiv e young su ito r o r fo r law by rem aining bound to h er m arriag e to
an uncaring older m an. One m ay be su re th a t th e claim o f love w ill o v ercom e
th a t o f law ; R anee will p ersu ad e Ellen and th e tw o w ill live happily e v er a f te r .12
1
46
In som e re sp e c ts Love or th e Law is th e b e st play G arland would ev er
w rite for th e very reaso n it adh eres so closely to th e s tru c tu re and vision of
j
m elodram a. Ellen is th e a rc h e ty p a l h eroine, a young wom an of in h e re n t pu rity
i
who is v ictim ized by a ru th less m an. Ellen lam en ts, "He sells m e ev ery day."|
As D avid G rim sted has put it in M elodram a U nveiled (1968), "The co n sta n t th re a t
o f th is c a ta stro p h e [of a w om an's fall] w as th e em otional co re o f th e
m elo d ram atic stru c tu re " (175). And if th e hero in e is th e c e n te r o f th e play
as th e hum an b a ttle g ro u n d fo r th e hero and th e villain, th en it is th e co ncept
o f d em o cracy w hich estab lish es th e m elodram a's possibilities. B efo re Love
or th e Law G arland had firs t d e alt w ith th e c h a ra c te r o f R anee Knapp in an
ex ten d ed sto ry o u tlin e, "Insuppressible F a c ts," w ritte n into his notebook in early
> ! . ,
jl 88 5. T h ere R anee is d escrib ed in such a w ay as to m ake it c le a r he is th e
jch aracter tra n sp la n te d to Love or th e L aw : "F a rm e r lad. A m bitious to do b e tte r
f
things. E d u cated enough to w ant fo r m o re."^^ G arland's play is c o n siste n t
I
jwith A m erican m elodram a's d e m o cratic em phasis on com m on people. Love
jerad icates th e b a rrie rs o f rank, class, even of law . It follows th a t such a p lay
should be th e p ro d u ct o f a m an who even five y ears la te r in 1892 w ro te a sto ry
in to his notebook e n title d "Love L evels A ll," in w hich a poor clerk m eets a rich'
b eau ty a t th e th e a te r. (#31) j
i
W hat is th en m ost curious about th is m elodram a is why G arland should
la b e l it Love o r th e L aw : _ A M odern P lay . As I have trie d to show, it is anything
b u t m odern in te rm s o f s tru c tu re and vision, a t le a s t in th e sense in w hich thisj
te rm w as applied to th e d ram a once Ibsen's plays had been p erfo rm ed in the.
U nited S ta te s. A cynic m ight accu se G arland o f a tru th -in -p ack ag in g vio latio n ,
or a t le a st o f being c ra fty enough to know th e ad v ertisin g appeal o f th e term ,j
I >
|"m odern." But th e re is enough evidence to sug g est th a t G arland w as n o t being
m an ip u lativ e, but ra th e r d e m o n stratin g th e am b iv alen t relatio n sh ip to realism 1
w hich any child o f m elodram a would have. To G arland, "m odern" m ean t
"u p -to -d a te ," and like m ost tw en ty -sev en y e ar-o ld m en in 1887, he a c c e p te d
th e A m erican e th ic of m a te ria l progress, th e sc ie n tific e th ic o f evolutionary
so cial progress, and th e new lite ra ry e th ic o f realism . G arland o fte n m ade
i t c le a r th a t his a c c e p ta n c e of realism was tie d to his e th ic s o f progress. In
! I
his June 1890 essay in A rena m agazine, "Ibsen as a D ra m a tist," G arland a sse rts:
I
[Ibsen] is co n sisten tly and w holly p ro gressive and m ay be tak en
to re p re se n t th e w hole m ovem ent in a r t com m only called realism
b ut which m ight be called "m odernism ."
R ealism in its b ro ad est m eaning is sim ply th e idea of;
progress in a r t . . . . It has only one law , to be tru e , n o t to thej
o b jectiv e re a lity but to th e o b jectiv e re a lity as th e au th o r sees'
I it. [Em phasis G arland's] (72) 1
So because o f his fu n d am en tally m elo d ram atic w orld view , G arland's
c o m m itm e n t to realism ex ten d ed only so fa r as th e inclusion o f new su b ject
t
m a tte r, but not to how th a t su b jec t m a tte r was tre a te d . Indeed, G arland in d icates
h ere his p re fe re n c e for th e te rm "m odernism " ov er "realism ," com ing close
to w hat ap p ears to be a d efin itio n of im pressionism . But it m ust be kept in|
m ind th a t G arland's brand of im pressionism was pow ered by th e m otor of
m elodram a w hich drove him to a single c o lo ratio n of p e rc ep tio n . G arland did
n o t m ean to endorse th e psychological im pressionism of Jam e s and C ran e whose
p erceptions w ere alw ays v a rie g a te d . |
H ence in Love o r th e Law G arland begins w ith an osten sib ly m odern
i
su b jec t b u t his a p riori use o f a m elo d ram atic ru b ric im poses a fo reg o n e1
conclusion in co n sisten t w ith tru th fu l re p re se n ta tio n . G arland does adopt H ow ells's
concern w ith th e m odern m arriag e re la tio n , proposing th e "rad ical" idea th a t
a w om an has a rig h t to happiness in m arriag e. But G arland's tre a tm e n t is notj
p ro b le m a tic , fo r E llen and R an ee K napp a re h eaded fo r th e do m estic paradise!
48
th a t is th e prom ise o f all m elodram a. G arland w as nev er a H ow ellsian re a list,
m uch as he re v e re d H ow ells. R a th e r he w as a m elo d ram atist who in co rp o rated
th e m odern p ra c tic e o f painting v erisim ilitudinous p o rtra its o f w hat T rollope
I
w as saying is The Way We Live Now.
N or should it be said th a t G arland fa ile d to co m p lete Love or th e Law
becau se he d esp aired o f it as a su ccessfu l w ork o f realism . In stead he w as called
o ff th e p ro je c t by Joseph K irkland who p ersuaded G arland th e play would n ev er
sell. In his long le tte r to G arland o f N ovem ber 13, 1887, K irkland also responds
to G arland's stunning pronouncem ent th a t he plans to a c t th e ro le o f R anee
Knapp: j
i
Y our play e x p erim en t is prom ising—your idea of a ctin g
in it is alarm ing. All my folks, (ex p erien ced playgoers, c ritic s
and a m a te u r acto rs) ex claim ed a t th e idea. T here is no ro ad
to th e fo o tlig h ts ex cep t through th e back of th e sta g e . The le c tu re
p la tfo rm does not help; th e e lo cu tio n ary -d ec la m a to ry experience'
positiv ely hinders. As D ickens say s; "th e b est a m a te u r com pany
is n ot so good as th e p o o rest b arn -sto rm in g pro fessio n als, bred
i to th e sta g e ." . . .
■ But I w aste my w ords. You w ill surely give th a t plan
th e go-by as soon as you p ro ceed to look fu rth e r in to it. The.
firs t m anager you apply to w ill ta lk you out o f it
A good pro fessio n al p lay w rig h t to prune and im prove your
play and som e good p ro fessio n al p lay ers to re p re se n t it—I hope
fo r a good incom e from it for y ears to com e. N othing is soj
p ro fitab le as a su ccessfu l play, as you no doubt a re w ell aw are.i
(#2469)14 j
1
K irkland did n o t w arn G arland ag ain st w ritin g plays, but ag ain st a ctin g
in th em . T h at K irkland fe lt com pelled to do so in such strenuous fashion m ay
in d ic a te th e depth o f G arland's am b itio n to becom e a professional a c to r and
i t c e rta in ly signifies G arland's close id e n tific a tio n w ith th e h eroic R an ee K napp!
p ersona. One m ay th en approach w ith a b roadened understanding G arland's,
Ltory, "Up th e C oule" from M ain-T raveiled R oads, in w hich a G arland stand-in;
jreturns to v isit his fam ily's W isconsin farm a f te r having m ade a su ccess o f h im self
in th e E ast. Many co m m e n tato rs have n o te d th e gu ilt com plex o f th e m ain
c h a ra c te r. B ut w hat is equally im p o rtan t is th a t th e G arland c h a ra c te r, H ow ard
M cL ane, re tu rn s not as an a u th o r but as a s ta r a c to r. O f all th e sto rie s in'
I l
1
M ain-T ravelled R oads it is th e m ost p ersonally re v e la to ry . G arland in tro d u ces
H ow ard M cLane in th is way: I
He had been w onderfully su ccessfu l, and y e t had c a rrie d
in to his su ccess as a d ra m a tic a u th o r as w ell as a c to r a certain '
P uritanism th a t m ade him a paradox to his fellow s . . . . Jo v ial1
as he ap p eared , he was inflexible as g ra n ite ag ain st drink and
to b acco . (84) I
I
H ow ard M cLane is an a c to r who earn s a thousand dollars a w eek and
i
who is p lan ted firm ly in a popular th e a te r w hich dispenses dom estic comedy,
and re a listic m elodram a in th e m anner o f A ugustin D aly w hich fe a tu re s " 'wharves!
| I
and re a l ships com ing up to th e w harf, and people g ittin g o ff and on' " ("C oule"1
89). As in Love or th e L aw , G arland ex p licitly acknow ledges a re tu rn o f th e
triu m p h an t hero. When H ow ard M cLane g re e ts his b ro th e r's w ife and baby,[
I
he is d escribed in th e se te rm s:
He kissed her w ith a b rig h t sm ile, nodded a t L aura thej
young w ife, and tossed th e baby, all in a b re a th , and w ith th e
m anner, as he him self saw , o f th e re tu rn e d c ap ta in in th e
w ar-d ram as of th e day. (98)^5
Through th is c h a ra c te r G arland shows he w as highly self-co n scio u s of|
i
bis th e a tric a liz e d perso n a. A ccordingly, as th e sto ry progresses and H ow ard
I
M cLane sees anew th e drudgery of farm life , th e re a d e r is given to ex p ec t th a t
M cLane w ill buy up th e fa rm , g a th e r up his fam ily , and ta k e th em to th e
co m fo rtab le life of th e E ast. But th is tim e w h at s ta r ts out as classic m elodram a
finishes w ithout a happy ending. D espite co n tin u al e ffo rts a t rap p ro ch em en t
w ith his discouraged b ro th e r, H ow ard M cLane is unable to save th e day. The
sto ry ends in a blank w all o f fru stra tio n as th e tw o b ro th e rs—re p re se n tin g th e
tw o H am lin G arlands—stan d squared o ff and irrec o n c ilab le. The a c to r's b ro th er
despairs: "I've com e to th e conclusion th a t life 's a fa ilu re for n in ety -n in e p ercen t'
j
o f us. You c a n 't help me now. It's to o la te " (146). !
How did th e child of m elodram a who w ro te Love or th e Law com e to!
re e n a c t th e sam e situ a tio n a sh o rt tim e la te r in "Up th e C oule" w ith such a
jdepressing a n ti-m e lo d ra m a tic conclusion? The answ er lies in seeing both works
as unfinished m elodram as. As no ted , G arland stopped w ork on Love or th e L aw |
i
probably b ecause K irkland d estro y ed his dream of a ctin g in it. But in suggesting
th a t play's sim ila rity to "A B ranch R oad," I argued th a t G arland w ould have]
ended th e play in th e sam e m elo d ram atic fashion w ith th e young hero persuading
;he m arried heroine to com e aw ay w ith him . But "Up th e C oule" is no less a
m elodram a ju st becau se it stops so ab ru p tly in th e m idst o f th e s ta n d -o ff betw eenj
! ;
th e b ro th ers (one a c tu a lly tu rn s th e la s t page o f th e sto ry and is su rp rised t o 1
find th e re is no m ore to it). This sto ry ends b u t it is not finished. In a sense,
j i
th e p ro p er ending for th e seem ingly a n ti-s e n tim e n ta l "Up th e C oule" could bei
w ritte n by G arland as "to be co n tin u ed ."1® The e x p e c te d m elo d ram atic conclusion
I
i i
is m issing n o t becau se G arland would not provide one out o f a lle g ian c e to a:
m odern a e s th e tic of n o n-closure; b ut b ecau se G arland could n o t provide one
due to a profound psychological b a rrie r. W hereas in Love or th e Law and "A
Branch R oad" th e o b je ct of th e G arland c h a ra c te r's desire is th e le g itim a te
one o f a young w om an w ith whom consum m ation is possible, in "Up th e C oule"
th e o b ject of G arland's d esire u n m istakably is his m other:
He [H ow ard M cLane] w as sick, sick to h e a rt. Oh, to be a boy
again! An ig n o ran t baby, p leased w ith a block and strin g , w ith
no know ledge and no c a re of th e g re a t unknown. To lay his head
again on his m o ther's bosom and re st! (109)
The im possibility of realizin g th is d ream was b ru tally im posed upon
G arland by a n o th er v isit hom e in 1889 during w hich his m o th er su ffe re d a stro k e .
It w as G arland's d esp airin g reco g n itio n th a t he could n ev er go hom e ag ain which
ground "Up th e C oule" to a h a lt. Thus th e sto rie s lik e it in M ain-T ravelled R oads
| I
re p re se n t th e loud long w ail o f a child o f m elodram a who has found him self1
c u t o ff from hope and happiness. This was G arland's tim e o f fu n ereal keening,1
i
th e tim e of m ost o f his c e le b ra te d ach iev em en ts. Like any m o urner in th e facej
Jof irrep a ra b le loss, G arland sought fo r sym pathy, and he found it in th e person1
|of W illiam D ean H ow ells who as th e p a tria rc h o f realism a c c e p te d G arland
in to its exten d ed fam ily . In th is fam ily , G arland m e t, am ong m any o th ers, Jam es
|a . H erne who was "th e good pro fessio n al playw right" K irkland had advised G arland
to find. W hat follow ed for G arland w as a period of fren z ie d a c tiv ity m uch of
it in th e d ram a. The child of m elodram a would find an id e n tity as an unlikely;
m idw ife o f realism . ■
52
NOTES TO CHAPTER TWO
I
^H a rrie t B eecher Stow e's 1851 novel h as o fte n been c re d ite d w ith stirring;
th e a b o litio n ist sen tim en ts th a t helped to bring about th e C ivil W ar. B ut D aniel
p . G erould n o tes in A m erican M elodram a (New York, 1983) th a t A iken’ s play
^ e c a m e a sen satio n al success less b ecau se o f its p o litical im p licatio n s th an
b ecau se of A iken's skillful em phasis o f "Those tw o sp ecial m e lo d ram atic
p leasu res—e x c ita tio n a t flig h t and p u rsu it, and m oral o u trag e a t th e v ic tim iz a tio n
,of innocence" (14). W hite au d ien ces o f varying reg io n al sym p ath ies m ight have
been co m fo rtab le w ith th e play since it w as played by an a ll-w h ite c a st u n til
1914. 1
2 In fo rm atio n on th e New Y ork sta g e is draw n from G eorge E.C . O dell,
A nnals o f th e New Y ork S tag e 15 vols. (New York, 1927-49); T. A llston Brown,
A H istory o f th e New Y ork S tage 1732-1901 (New York, 1903); G lenn H ughes,
A H istory of th e A m erican T h e a te r (New Y ork, 1951). In cidentally, w ith re sp e c t
jto tic k e t prices, tw e n ty -fiv e c en ts in 1860 w as o f course no p a ltry sum , being
roughly eq u iv alen t to $12.50 in tod ay 's d ollars. When G arland m oved to Boston
in 1884 he was able to live on th e sev en ty c e n ts a day he budgeted him self.
8 See Thom as G. Schuppe, "H am lin G arland o f Iow a," A nnals o f Iowa
,41 (W inter 1972): 843-867. His is th e m ost thorough b io graphical re se a rc h of
G arland's youth in Iowa. The in fo rm atio n he gleans from press acco u n ts and
public reco rd s c o rre c ts e rro rs o f previous G arland biographers and d e m o n stra te s
low risky it is to depend only on G arland's au to b iographies.
4 See A _ Son o f th e M iddle B order, pp. 181, 212-14. G arland's se le c tio n
of His B ro th er's K eeper m ay be a foreshadow ing of his c a re e r as a so cial re fo rm e r
and his co n cern w ith th e th e m e o f th e psychological double I discuss in C h a p te r
1 .
5 In th e June 1878 issue o f G arland's school new spaper, S em in arian ,;
i t w as n o ted th a t th e tow n fa th e rs had ap p roved plans for an o p era house ini
p s a g e (#709-e). In Son G arland m entions th a t th is th e a te r opened in 1879 an d ’
h o sted "an o ccasio n al 'a c to r tro u p e' " (226). !
I
6 In 1856 a copyright law of so rts w as e n a c te d in th e U nited S ta te s,
b u t sin ce it req u ired only th e filing o f th e title of th e w ork in ste ad of th e
jcom plete te x t, p iracy continued u n a b ate d (H ughes 206-07). The firs t tru ly
p ro te c tiv e law did not com e u n til th e In te rn a tio n a l C opyright A ct o f 1891.
^ See Hughes 207-08.
j
8 A ccording to L acan, th e m irro r sta g e can recu r, w ith a person reg ressin g
to a sense o f id e n tity based on th e p e rc ep tio n of th e "o th er" self. In lite ra tu re '
th is is m ost o fte n m an ifest in th e phenom enon of doubling. G arland's;
p reo ccu p atio n w ith his "o th e r b ro th er" can be explained by L acan's th e o ry . For!
an exam ple o f th e th e o ry in p ra c tic e see Jac q u e L acan, "Sem inar o f 'The P urloined
L e tte r, ' " Y ale F ren ch S tudies 48 (1972): 38-72.
8 For th e m an u scrip t o f th e play itse lf, see P apers #203. K irkland's(
le tte r is p a rt of a larg e and v e ry inte re s tin g co rresp o n dence w ith G arland (#2469).|
[It began w hen G arland se n t K irkland his la u d ato ry review of th e lo cal color]
novel, Zury (1887). C lyde E. Henson has draw n upon th e G arland-K irkland le tte r s
fo r his o ft-c ite d stu d y , "Joseph K irkland's Influence on H am lin Garland,",
A m erican L ite ra tu re 23 (Jan u ary 1952): 458-63. B ut Henson in c o rre c tly guesses'
ithat K irkland speaks o f G arland's play U nder th e W heel in his N ovem ber 13th'
le tte r . Je a n H ollow ay re p e a ts th is e rro r in h er biography. G arland did not'
[begin U nder th e W heel (1890) a t le a s t u n til a f te r he m et Jam e s A. H erne in
early 1889. j
10 See Mane pp. 535-51 fo r th e b est g e n eral bibliography of G arland's
published w orks, a rran g ed chronologically. It is w orth noting th a t G arland's
v e ry firs t published w ork w as th e H aw thornesque sto ry , "Ten Y ears D ead," Every
O th er S atu rd ay 2 (28 M arch 1885): 97-99.
j 11 This ap p ears on th e ninth le a f o f th e ty p e sc rip t. G arland has ty p ed
his play in all upper case le tte r s , so I have re c a s t th e te x t in stan d a rd u p p er/lo w er
[case usage. But I have re ta in e d G arland's in scrip tio n o f d ia le c t, and th e q u o tatio n
[marks th a t begin and end th e speech a re G arland's. In 1887 th e re w as no stan d a rd
s e t o f conventions fo r play m an u scrip ts, so G arland follow ed th e n orm al prose
p ra c tic e o f p u ttin g q u o ta tio n m arks around c h a ra c te r sp eech es. P a re n th e se s
[were placed around sta g e d irectio n s. S ev eral y ears la te r a f te r read in g U nder
ithe W heel, H ow ells advised G arland, "if you use q u o ta tio n m arks in your dialogue
you don't w ant p a re n th ese s to o . I in v en ted th a t w ay o f p rin tin g dram a, to g e t
rid o f p aren th eses" (6 June 1890 #2255). G arland did ta k e th is advice on m ost
subsequent m an uscripts.
in Son G arland describ es th e "in e ffa ce a b le im pression" m ade on him
by th e w om an soprano in th e m edicine show th a t cam e to th e C ounty F a ir in
1874 (167-69). G arland says, "I have n ev er been ab le to p u t th a t wom an into
,verse or fic tio n although I have trie d . In a sto ry c alled Love or th e Law I once
m ade a laborious a tte m p t to acco u n t for h er, b ut I did n o t su cceed , and th e
m an u scrip t rem ains in th e b o tto m of my desk" (169). G arland re fe rs h ere not
to th e play m an u scrip t but to a se p a ra te m an u scrip t w hich G arland id en tifie d
as "My first a tte m p t a t a novel—1888" (#135). This sto ry fills in E llen's h isto ry ,1
jexplaining th a t she w as th e orphan o f a riv e rb o a t g am b ler who w as killed ini
a gu n fig h t. "D r. L ytle" th en cam e along to ta k e in th e six teen y e ar-o ld girlj
an d use h e r in his m edicine show.
13 The sto ry o u tlin e is in te re stin g in its own rig h t. In th is e arlier'
in c arn atio n th e hero R an ee Knapp in "one blind m om ent co m m its him self in]
m a rria g e to a w om an who is a sup erb an im al." They becom e estran g e d and;
Jduring th e long y ears o f sep a ra tio n R an ee trie s to p u t his w ritin g c a re e r back
to g e th e r and th e w om an becom es an a c tre s s . G arland's tre a tm e n t o f th e w om an
c h a ra c te r m akes h er so m ew h at o f a p ro to ty p e fo r D reiser's S ister C a rrie . See
p. 139 o f G arland's notebook (#13).
14 We do n o t have G arland's le tte r to K irkland. As I explain in n .9 (
above, K irkland could only have been re fe rrin g to Love or th e L aw . ;
15 One such w ar d ram a G arland w as c e rta in to have seen was Bronson!
H ow ard's Shenandoah w hich d eb u ted a t th e B oston M useum on N ovem ber 19,j
1888. H ow ard w as th e firs t Am e ric a n playw right to have a long, s u c c e s s f u l
54^
c a re e r. G arland m ay have had H ow ard in m ind w hen se le c tin g th e n am e o f
his c h a ra c te r, H ow ard M cLane.
As a p o stsc rip t, I n o te th a t G arland also w ro te a play, "Up th e Cooly,"j
th e in co m p lete m an u scrip t fo r w hich is e x ta n t (#215). A lthough th is m anuscript;
;is u n d ated and I have found no o th e r re fe re n c e s to it, a bib lio g rap h ical in sp ectio n
le ad s m e to believ e it w as w ritte n la te r th an th e sto ry , possibly as la te as 1900.
|The p ap er used in th is m an u scrip t is a higher q u ality w a term ark ed lin en w hich
G arland did not use in th e e a rly 1890T s when his funds w ere m eag re. Also the,
'm anuscript is inscribed in a sim ilar ink and fo rm at as th a t o f a n o th e r play
m an u scrip t, The G irl in th e G ingham S u n -b o n n ett, also u n d ated b ut m ore surely
'a p ro d u ct o f G arland's post-1900 phase o f w estern rom ances. F u rth e rm o re ,
|the spelling o f th e w ord as "Cooly" in th e play m an u scrip t corresponds to th e
spelling G arland sw itch ed to w hen th e sto ry cam e out in th e 1899 M acm illan's
'edition o f M ain-T ravelled R oads. The spelling in th e 1891 first ed itio n is "C oule."
j The play d iffers from th e sto ry by foregrounding th e c o n flic t b etw een
H ow ard and his b ro th e r's w ife, th u s heig h ten in g H ow ard's sen se o f g u ilt. If
I am c o rre c t in my d atin g of th e play as c.1900, th en th e stro n g e r g u ilt feelings
'expressed by H ow ard m ay have re su lte d from th e d eath o f G arland's m o th er
in 1899.
I
!
I
I
t
C H A P T E R T H R E E
i
R E A L I S M ' S A D V A N C E M A N
I
1887-1892
T h e C o n t e x t a n d C a u s e s o f G a r l a n d ' s E a r l y D r a m a C a r e e r j
One im plicatio n o f my arg u m en t th u s fa r is to re d ire c t sch o lars aw ay
j
from th e ir tra d itio n a l p reo ccu p atio n w ith explaining H am lin G arland's so -called
m o v em en t from realism to ro m an ticism , in fav o r of explaining G arland's e a rlie r
irre fu ta b le m ovem ent from m elodram a to re a lism . By explaining th e e a rlie r
jtransition I believe one explains th e la te r tra n sitio n w hich o ccu rs a f te r th e
p u b licatio n in 1895 of R ose o f D u tch er's C ooly. As I have a lre ad y su ggested,
■Garland's unfinished m elodram as w ere born out of a s p irit o f loss, b u t when
I
jthese h alf-m elo d ram as w ere in te rp re te d by th e read in g public as re a lis tic fictio n ,
jGarland eag erly a c c e p te d th e w elcom e o f a n ti-ro m a n tic lite ra te u rs who could
re s to re to him a sense o f id e n tity through belonging. When W illiam D ean Howells
I
j
g ra n te d G arland an au d ien ce in Ju n e o f 1887, G arland rig h tly saw it as his
o rd in atio n in to th e school o f realism : "My a p p ren ticesh ip was o v er, I had been
a c c e p te d by A m erica's c h ie f lite ra ry m an as a fellow , a lite ra ry histo rian "
(R oadside 61). Y et, sig n ifican tly , G arland n o tes th a t he to ld H ow ells during,
this in terv iew o f "m y early antagonism to realism and my re c e n t conversion!
i
jto it" (R oadside 58). As a new ly won co n v ert G arland's c o m m itm e n t to re a lism ’
was all th e m ore fie rc e , fo r in c h a ra c te ris tic m elo d ram atic fashion, he saw
h im self as "a knight e n liste d in a holy w ar" (Son 385). G arland would rem ain
a card -ca rry in g m em ber o f H ow ellsian realism u n til it evolved in to an a e s th e tic
program of psychological am biguity and physiological n atu ralism th a t was|
a n tith e tic a l to his m elo d ra m a tic p rin cip les. W hereupon he did n o t decline into
56
ro m an ticism but d e lib e ra te ly re tu rn e d to it by providing p ro p er endings to
m elodram as he previously le f t unfinished. j
But w h atev er G arland’s m otives for joining th e realism m ovem ent, one
can n o t discount his m easu rab le co n trib u tio n to it and th u s to A m erican lite ra ry
!
m odernism . T h at co n trib u tio n m ay be m ost ev id en t in G arland's a c tiv itie s in1
the d ram a during th is period. G arland w ro te a t le a st eig h t plays during th e
period 1888-95. D ram a sch o lar W arren M otley re c e n tly said th a t one of th e se ,
lUnder th e W heel (1890), "re p re se n ts a g re a te r advance in A m erican d ram a th an
I
H erne’s m ore e x p e rt, b u t also m ore d e riv a tiv e , M arg aret F lem in g " (483). With
re s p e c t to M arg aret F lem in g , Jam e s A. H erne him self believed its w ritin g and
production doubtful w ith o u t th e selfless tire le s s a c tiv ity of G arland as "Man;
I
! -«
in F ro n t." 1 G arland w as also th e firs t in A m erica to w rite p e rc e p tiv e ly on Ibsen
i
and fo rm ed an Ibsen C lub in Boston in 1889. M ost im p o rtan tly , G arland in 1891
jwas th e founder and guiding lig h t o f th e firs t little th e a te r in th e U n ited S ta te s,
[The F irst Independent T h e a te r A ssociation of B oston.
i The q u a n tity and q u ality o f G arland's acco m p lish m en ts in b e h alf of
t ' ,
t
m odern A m erican d ram a enable one to dispel one m otive—opportunism —o fte n :
im puted to G arlan d ’ s conversion to realism . C ritic s such as B ern ard D uffey'
i
and W arren F ren ch m ay m isread G arland's life as w ell as lite ra ry h isto ry when
they sug g est G arland cham pioned realism becau se he saw it as a tic k e t to lite ra ry
prom inence.^ G arland, fo r his p a rt, acknow ledges m any tim e s in his
autobiographies how unpopular and u n rem u n erativ e his activ ism fo r re a lis m 1
jwas. No calc u la tin g young m an on th e m ake could possibly have seen th e value
in ren d erin g unpaid serv ice to a stru g g lin g Ja m e s A. H erne. Nor w as G arland’s
ex ten siv e cam paigning fo r H enry G eorge's single ta x proposal m o tiv a te d by
anything o th e r th an a y earning to save fam ilies like his own from a d e b ilita tin g
'life on th e farm . Indeed, a f te r Jam e s A. H erne m ade it c le a r he would n e ith e r
a c t in nor produce U nder th e W heel, G arland paid out of his own p o ck et to have
I i
i t p rin ted so th a t it could be m ailed to sy m p ath izers o f th e single ta x proposal.1
• i
And o f course, even M ain-T ravelled R oads w as only a success d 'e s tim e ; it sold
p o o rly and G arland w as w idely condem ned fo r su b v ertin g bucolic notions of
r u r a l A m erica. Had G arland tru ly w ished to be o p p o rtu n istic he would have
jfollowed th e lead o f R ichard H arding D avis ra th e r th an W illiam D ean Howells..
jDavis's g e n te e l sto rie s w ere m ore re p re se n ta tiv e o f A m erican lite r a tu r e in'
! !
ithe 1890’s th an th ose o f his fellow jo u rn a list Stephen C ran e, who in cid en tally
w as re v e re n tia l in his a p p re cia tio n o f both G arland's fic tio n and his sam a ritan ism .
'G arland w as e n tire ly genuine in his w ork as a re a list, all th e m ore so sin ce such
w ork w as a psychological im p e ra tiv e fo r form ing a p ersonal id e n tity once his
m e lo d ram atic im pulse had been c u rta ile d by painful perso n al e x p erien ce. i
So in o rd er to explain why G arland should so p e re m p to rily , but
tem p o ra rily , re p la ce m elo d ram a w ith realism , one m ight do b e tte r to tu rn to
I
,the psychological m odel fo r co g n itiv e d evelopm ent o ffe re d by J e a n P iaget.l
j j
;In doing so, I propose G arland's ex p erien ce as an alleg o ry for th e developm ent:
i i
I
o f A m erican c u ltu re as a w hole. j
Through his w ork w ith children and ad o lescen ts, P ia g e t po sited th a t
n orm al co g n itiv e dev elo p m en t in an individual m oves in a series o f sta g e s from
eg o cen trism , in w hich th e know er is c e n te re d on only his own p o in t o f view ,
to o b jectiv e re la tiv ism , in w hich th e know er grasps th e re c ip ro c ity of m any
d ifferin g p o ints o f view . N ot ev ery ad u lt develops fully to ach iev e objectivej
re la tiv ism . H am lin G arland m ay be said not to have advanced m uch beyond
eg o cen trism larg ely b ecau se o f his sp ec ia l relatio n sh ip w ith his m o th er and
th e en co u rag em en t by his ab o litio n ist fa th e r to assum e a m elo d ram atic persona
58]
as th e rig h teo u s d efen d er o f goodness and ju stic e . If one m ay rely on th e evidence
o f G arland's re cu rrin g dream in w hich he is a knight in shining arm o r, and his
'p ro jectio n o f h im self as th e hero in a ll o f his fic tio n , th e re is little doubt th a t
! I
,G arland's w as a case o f n e ar-p ath o lo g ica l s u b je c tific a tio n in w hich th e e x te rn a l
(world w as im p reg n ated w ith th e self. P ia g e t's co m m en ts on cognitive egocentrism !
j j
jmay be tak en as an a p t c h a ra c te riz a tio n of G arland's c a re e r as a rab id so c ia l
^reform er:
j *
! In o th e r w ords, th e a d o lesc en t goes through a phase in w hich
| he a ttrib u te s an u nlim ited pow er to his own th o u g h ts so th a t
j th e d ream o f a glorious fu tu re o r o f tran sfo rm in g th e w orld through
Ideas seem s to be n ot only fa n ta sy b u t also an e ffe c tiv e a ctio n
| w hich in its e lf m odifies th e e m p iric a l w orld. This is obviously
j a form o f co g nitive eg o cen trism . (The G row th of L ogical
| Thinking 345-46) ]
! Thus G arland w as n o t a re fo rm e r b ecau se he w as a re a list; he w as a
|
R ealist b ecause he was a re fo rm e r. In o th e r w ords, realism fo r G arland was]
(subsum ed under th e progressive e th ic o f refo rm ism w hich f itte d p erfectly!
G arland's need to ta k e th e role o f a ch iv alric k n ig h t. R eform , a f te r all, is thej
a rc h e ty p a l A m erican ro m an ce; th e n in e te e n th cen tu ry refo rm m o v em ents o f
i
abolitionism , su ffrag ism , and te m p e ra n c e w ere th e m ost obvious m anifestations!
i
o f th is ro m an ce. And G arland continually re e n a c te d th is ro m an ce, w hether;
i
he w as refo rm in g se n tim e n ta lity on th e sta g e in 1890 or scato lo g y on th e stage;
in 1920. To use P ia g e t's te rm s th en , G arland a ssim ila te d realism b ut did not;
acco m m o d ate realism . F or in P iag et's m odel th e decline of eg o cen trism dependsj
upon a tw o -p a rt pro cess o f a d ap ta tio n : th e firs t p a rt is assim ilatio n , in which,]
to r e fe r to G arland, e x te rn a l in fo rm atio n such as th e a e sth e tic s and philosophyj
o f realism w as in c o rp o rated in to his p reex istin g m elo d ram atic co gnitive s tru c tu re ;
th e second p a rt is acco m m o d atio n , in w hich G arland's m elo d ram atic co g n itiv e
s tru c tu re would have had to m ake th e e ffo rt to conform to th e e x te rn a l
59
in fo rm atio n of realism w hich he was assim ilatin g . G arland, how ever, n ev er
psychologically a cco m m o d ated realism . He could fo r exam ple vigorously applaud!
as a p ic tu re o f re a l life th e th en shocking scen e in M arg aret F lem ing in w hich
I !
M arg aret unbu tto n s h er blouse to nurse h e r baby, y e t he w as unable to perceive)
I
M arg aret as an y th in g o th e r th an an id ealized v ic tim o f h er philandering husband.'
| i
G arland rem ain ed fix ed in w hat P iag et calls m oral realism , "th e ten d en cey 1
. . . to re g a rd d u ty and th e value a tta c h in g to it as se lf-su b siste n t and in d ep en d en t1
j |
of th e m ind, as im posing its e lf reg ard less o f th e c irc u m stan c es in w hich th e (
individual m ay find h im self" (M oral Ju d g m en t 111). W hatever th e c ircu m stan ces,
[Garland co n sisten tly im posed his m e lo d ram atic w orld view upon his w ork as'
j I
a re fo rm e r-re a list. '
| If one tra c e s back th e origin o f P ia g e t's b io lo g ical-o rg an icist co n ception
o f cognitive d ev elo p m en t, one w ill find C h arles D arw in and his sc ie n tific theory,
Jof evolution. D arw in's stu d y , On th e O rigin o f th e S pecies (1859), cam e o u t
th e y ear b efo re H am lin G arland was born. By th e tim e G arland re a ch e d th e
I
jBoston Public L ib rary in 1884 th e in te lle c tu a l lan d scap e in th e U nited S ta te s
had been tra n sfo rm e d by evolutionism . C om m on sense alone would g ra n t how
G arland's sudden im m ersion in th e new thinking m ight le ad to an accep tan ce,
of realism . But W illiam G. P erry 's re se a rc h in Form s o f In te lle c tu a l and E th ic a l
D evelopm ent in th e C ollege Y ears: A _ S chem e (1968) also enables one to s e c
th a t G arland's in te n se p eriod o f self-e d u ca tio n m ade him esp ecially susceptible]
i
to th e lite ra ry realism m ovem ent. In his w ork w ith H arvard and R ad cliffe
I
I
stu d en ts, P erry found th a t d evelopm ent in young ad u lts ty p ically follow s a1
f
i
progression through th re e phases. F irst, w hen stu d e n ts firs t com e to co lleg e,1
!
th e ir values are rigidly fixed and tie d to p a re n ta l sy stem s. N ext, a f te r a y ear
or tw o o f in tro d u ctio n and study of new value sy stem s, stu d en ts adopt an eth ics
of re la tiv ism in w hich any s e t o f values is as good as a n o th er. In th is phase,
stu d e n ts m ay m ake fie rc e co m m itm en ts to o rg an izatio n s or view points th a J
I ^
previously w ere rad ically opposite to th e value sy stem s th ey brought from home.j
'Finally, as th ey n e ar g rad u atio n stu d en ts begin to s ift through th e range ofj
e th ic a l options and c o n stru c t a p erso n al value sy stem , w hich o fte n is a m odified
version of th e old p a re n ta l sy stem .
I
G arland’s ex p erien ce corresponds closely to P e rry ’s m odel. G arland
i
cam e to B oston as a child o f m elodram a, th en b ecam e a re a list fo r a b rie f period,
and finally re tu rn e d to m elo d ram a as an a n ti m o d ern ist. C onsider w hat it m ight
have been like for a farm boy fresh o ff th e D akota p ra irie , to e n te r in to th e 1
| I
in te lle c tu a l m ilieu o f 1880’s B oston. O ne's head sw im s a t G arland's reading
list:
i
I re a d both day and n ight, grappling w ith D arw in, Spencer,
F iske, H elm holtz, H aeck el,—all th e m ighty m a sters of evolution
w hose books I had not h ith e rto been able to open. For diversion
I dived in to English p o e try and w e lte re d in th a t sea o f song which
m arks th e beginnings o f ev ery lite ra tu re , conning th e ballads
o f Iceland and W ales, th e epics o f Ireland, th e e a rly G erm an
. . . . (Son 322) ;
. . . I re a d W hitm an's L eaves o f G rass and w ith o u t doubt th a t
volum e changed th e w orld fo r m e as it did fo r m any o th ers. (Son
323) I
H e rb e rt S pencer rem ain ed my philosopher and m aster.j
With e ag e r h a ste I sought to com pass th e ’’S y n th e tic Philosophy."!
(Son 323) 1
I
I
W illiam D ean H ow ells, O liver W endell H olm es, John G.j
W hittier, Edwin Booth, Jam es R ussell Low ell, all th e se to w erin g
p e rso n alities seem ed very n e a r to me now . . . . (Son 324)
I
And of course th is read in g w as in ad d itio n to G arland's re g u la r visitsj
■ to th e th e a te r, th e sym phony, and th e a r t m useum . G arland h im self says itl
i
b e st: "My m en tal diaphragm cre ak e d w ith th e p ressu re o f inrushing ideas" (Son)
323). As th is survey o f G arland's read in g program su g g ests, one p articu lar!
61
•idea— -evolution—o verw helm ed G arland and co m p elled his ad h eren ce. U nlike
H enry A dam s, w hose fo rm al ed u catio n w as bo th broad and deep enough that!
w hen he en co u n te re d D arw inism "he could prove only Evolution th a t did n o t
evolve" (E ducation 931), G arland w as co m p letely disarm ed by th e progressive^
ro m a n tic notion im p licit in th e so cial ev o lu tio n ary th eo ry S pencer d eriv ed from
iDarwin. It th e re fo re can n o t be ov erem p h asized th a t G arland b ecam e a r e a lis t
J I
becau se he firs t b ecam e an ev o lu tio n ist. E volution w as a th eo ry id eally su ite d
to an im poverished lite r a tu r e te a c h e r, as G arland was a f te r 1885, who had
m elo d ram atic fa ith in m an's progress to th a t c ity on th e hill. I
j U nderstanding evolution as th e life-lo n g underpinning o f G arland's
i *
in te lle c tu a l system is fu n d am en tal to explaining his relatio n sh ip to A m erican
jdram a. G arland had g lean ed one co n tro llin g id ea from his read in g o f Spencer's!
I
e v o lu tio n ary th e o ry , "th e g ran d est in te lle c tu a l co n cep tio n e v er w rought out'
in a hum an b rain ,—th e co n cep tio n o f th e law of progress" (A rena O ct. 1891
xxv). This w as a u n iv ersal n a tu ra l law w hich applied to biological, so cial,
i
p o litic a l, econom ic, and lite ra ry life . Even though th e novel w as th e
i
acknow ledged epic of th e ag e, G arland in sisted on including d ram a w ithin th e
j i
m odel o f ev o lu tio n ary p rogress, as w as m ade c le a r in his 1889 le c tu re "On th e 1
'Plays C u r r e n t . G arland saw th e d ram a as a species o f lite ra tu re , a genrej
in a low er s ta g e o f d ev elo p m en t th a n th e novel, and he believed a w rite r had!
| |
an in e v ita b le m oral resp o n sib ility to p a rtic ip a te in th e developm ent o f th e dram a.!
| i
This m ean t n ot only w ritin g plays b u t also engaging in th e tre n c h w a rfa re ofi
th e a te r re fo rm .
For such w rite rs as H ow ells, Ja m e s, and C ran e, even m ore w as a t sta k e
in th e ir d eep co m m itm en t to th e d ram a th a n fin a n c ial success or s e lf-s a tis fa c tio n
I
in having c o n trib u te d to ev o lu tio n ary pro g ress. T hese w rite rs n eed ed th e dram a'
62
if only becau se th ey in c o rp o ra te d th e th e a te r in to n early all o f th e ir b est work.
W itness B artley and M arcia H ubbard's v isit to se e B oucicault's C olleen Bawn'
a t th e B oston M useum in H ow ells's A M odern In stan ce (1882); or M aggie's manyj
v isits to see New Y ork m elodram as w ith P e te r in C ran e's M aggie; _ A G irl of:
,the S tre e ts (1893); o r th e th e a tric a l m ilieu so e sse n tia l to D reiser's S iste r C a rrie 1
^1900); or S tre th e r's firs t m eetin g w ith C had a t a p erfo rm an c e o f th e Paris
I
I
jT heater de C om edie F ran c a ise in Jam es's The A m bassadors (1903). The th e a te r
Was u seful to th e se w rite rs p recisely becau se it "lies" conventionally and therefore!
I 1
a c ts as a double fo r re a l life , both re p lic a tin g and exposing th e in h eren tly
jdeceitful n a tu re o f so cial re la tio n s. By inscribing th e th e a te r w ithin th e ir novels,
i
H ow ells, Jam e s, and C ran e w ere follow ing th e exam ple o f E m ile Zola in such
< (
novels as N ana (1880). In th is sto ry of th e decline o f a b e au tifu l P arisian actress,
I j
jWho m an ip u lates m en fo r h er m a te ria l c o m fo rt, Zola rescu es th e th e a te r from
its in fe rio r s ta tu s as th e b astio n o f sy n th etic co n v en tio n ality by em ploying the;
| i
th e a te r to d ra m a tiz e th e tru th about d u p licity in hum an co n d u ct. The result,
is th a t Zola th e n o v elist re s to re s th e p rim itiv e tru th -fu n c tio n o f th e th e ater.
j !
by having th e th e a te r p a rtic ip a te in th e "lim itless fram ew o rk " o f novelistici
d isc o u rse .4 In m uch th e sam e way, n o v elists like H ow ells, Jam es, and C rane'
I i
had a v e ste d in te re s t in assuring th e survival of th e th e a te r by th e ir p ersonal
in v o lv em en t becau se th e y n eeded th e th e a te r as a c e n tra l m etap h o r. With no
th e a te r, th e re would have been no m irro r to hold up to so cie ty . For A m erican
re a lis t no v elists, th e ir novels and th e th e a te r ex isted in sym biosis.
The sam e, how ever, can n o t be said o f H am lin G arland who w as never:
i
I
a n o v elist in th e m anner o f H ow ells, Jam e s, and C ran e. G arland's sp ec ia l
jcontribution w as as a lo c al co lo rist and it is from th is stan d p o in t th a t G arland
.began his c a re e r as a p lay w rig h t. As Donald P iz e r has p o in ted o u t, lo c al color.
fo r G arland w as n o t sim ply th e re su lt o f p erso n al in clin atio n or ad ap ta b ility
to th e tim e s. R a th e r, G arland based lo c al color on S pencer's law o f evolution
|that a ll life "passes from an in d efin ite in c o h eren t h o m o geneity to a definite,!
J t
^coherent h e tero g en e ity " (S pencer 396). L ocal color w as th e only literatu re!
th a t could p ic tu re th e in creased h e te ro g e n e ity o f A m erican life .5 H ence aJ
e a rly G arland play such as The M cTurgs focused on m em orable c h a ra c te rs from
his m o th e r’s fam ily in W isconsin. But even though th e p ra c tic e of lo c a l colo^
was lim ited in scope, G arlan d ’ s claim s fo r its im p o rtan c e to A m erica w ere1
e x tra v a g a n t. Im bued w ith th e d e m o cratic gospel o f W hitm an, w hich G arland
j:ook as a co ncern fo r th e com m on m an and a call fo r in ten se individualism ,
j i
^Garland held th a t th e fu n ctio n of a r t was to re p re se n t th e d iv ersity o f A m erican ’
life as it really ex isted , so th a t sym pathy shall p re v a il and progress be assured.
F or a m e lo d ra m a tist lik e G arland, progress w as a serious business. When
jGarland th rew him self in to re fo rm o f th e th e a te r a f te r he m et Ja m e s A. H erne,
it w as w ith an ev an g elical d e te rm in a tio n to e lim in a te from th e s ta g e every
vestig e o f th e E uropean, th e a ris to c ra tic , and th e sen satio n al. G arland would!
la v e it rep laced w ith A m ericans from all w alks o f life in a qu iet d ram atu rg y
jWhich d e b ate d solutions to m odern problem s. For ex am p le, w hen G arland
co n v erted his play U nder th e W heel in to a novel, he re title d i t fo r th e m ain
i
c h a ra c te r, Jason Edw ards, An A verage Man (1892). Both play and novel tra c e
th e m ovem ent o f an Irish im m ig ran t fam ily from a m iserab le B oston slum to
an arid p ra irie farm n e a r "B oom tow n." The Edw ards fam ily is sq u eezed out
of th e ir c ity te n e m e n t by an a b se n te e landlord's re n t in c re ase , th en v ic tim iz e d
by B dom tow n's land sp ec u la to rs who gouge th em fo r w o rth less land, th en wiped:
i
i
out by a sto rm o f b ib lical p ro p o rtio n s. Jaso n Edw ards is fin ally d riven to aj
I
disabling illness as w ell as to a re je c tio n o f th e God th a t would p e rm it such;
Jo b -lik e c a ta stro p h e to com e to good people. The e f f e c t o f G arland's unflinching
I
p o rtra y a l o f th e tra g e d y of a com m on m an is indeed harrow ing. The re a d er
I I
Jof U nder th e W heel is w itness to an alm o st ru th less debunking o f th e A m erican
I '
|D ream and th e m yth of o p p o rtu n ity in th e W est. B ut G arland o f co u rse could
n o t leav e it a t th a t. G arland had to in se rt h im self in to e v ery one o f his w orks,1
Lnd h e re he is p re se n t as W alter R eeves, a B oston new spaperm an who is in love
w ith Jaso n Edw ards's d au g h ter and who is an a d v o ca te of p o litic a l re fo rm . Near!
i
th e end o f th e play, in th e fa c e o f th e d e v a sta tio n of th e Edw ards fam ily , R eeves
d elivers th e G arland le c tu re :
R eev es (w ith d eep est earn estn ess). "I say you a re fallen,!
b u t th e colum n has passed on, th e b a ttle w ill y e t be won. C ourage,
you w ill y e t live to see . . . a la rg e r and g ran d er ab o litio n cause
! . . . th e ab o litio n o f in d u stria l slavery."
A lice. "Do you think so? Is th e re hope, W alter?"
R eeves. "T here is g re a t hope." ,
Edw ards. "If I could believe th a t, I'd fe e l e a s ie r . . . a ll
I ask is a fa ir ch an ce." !
R eev es. "T h at's w h at I m ean. A fa ir ch an ce for every
m an—it's com ing?"
j A lice. "Do you think so?"
R eev es (expanding w ith enthusiasm ). "I know it. J u st
as I know spring w ill com e ag ain ." '
Edw ards. "If I could believe th a t." (227) I
i
It should be n o te d th a t h e re th e la s t response o f E dw ards could suggest
th e shaky foundation of R eeves's optim ism , and th a t in its published version
^Garland ended th e play by seem in g to u n d ercu t R eeves's p o sitio n by having
'Edwards fa ll into a p a ra ly tic stro k e a s th e cu rta in falls.® But th e essential!
jo in t is th a t R eeves th e m elo d ram atic h e ro -re fo rm e r is p re se n t. It is unlikely
th a t G arland w ished to in v alid ate th e position of R eeves, since he did m ail copies
!
of th e play to su p p o rters o f th e single ta x land refo rm proposal o f H enry G eorge.j
So th e p resen ce o f R eeves sig n ifies th e v iab ility of a m e lo d ram atic w orld v iew i
The Edw ards fam ily fails not becau se th e ir m elo d ram atic fa ith in th e A m erican
D ream is exposed as u n re a listic , b u t b ecau se th e sy stem s o f m an h ave p e rv e rte d
n a tu ra l harm ony. The m essage h e re is to change th e sy stem , n o t one's
m elo d ram atic w orld view . I
This is a decid ed ly d iffe re n t m essage th a n Stephen C ra n e ’s in M aggieJ
A G irl o f th e S tr e e ts , w ritte n only a sh o rt tim e a f te r G arland’s play. The crucial!
| i
episode in C ran e's s to ry is th e d e scrip tio n o f M aggie’s responses to th e m elodram a
she sees one night w ith her new boyfriend P e te : j
M aggie lo st h e rse lf in sy m p ath y w ith th e w an d erers
sw ooning in snow -storm s b e n ea th happy-hued church w indow s,
w hile a choir w ithin sang "Jo y to th e W orld." To M aggie and!
th e re s t o f th e au d ien ce th is w as tra n sc e n d e n ta l realism . . . .(163) j
i
M aggie alw ays d e p a rte d w ith raised sp irits from th e s a
m elodram as. She re jo ic ed a t th e w ay in w hich th e poor and*
v irtu o u s ev en tu ally o v ercam e th e w ealth y and w icked. T he th e a te r
m ade h e r think. She w ondered if th e c u ltu re and re fin e m e n t
she had seen im ita te d , perh ap s g ro tesq u ely , by th e h ero in e on,
th e sta g e , could be acq u ired by a g irl who lived in a te n e m e n t'
house and w orked in a sh irt fa c to ry . (164) ;
H ere C ran e calls a tte n tio n to th e tra g ic im p lications o f u n c ritic a lly '
a cc e p tin g a m elo d ra m a tic w orld view . C ran e u n d ersto o d th a t m elo d ram a can,
kill you. For M aggie it is an o p iate—a tra n sc e n d e n ta l realism —w hich allow s
h er to re p la c e th e d ep ressing re a lity o f h e r d e te rm in e d ex isten c e. So dep en d en t
is M aggie on m elodram a, th a t w hen she is un ab le to p a tte rn h er own life a fte rj
i |
it, she co m m its su icid e. M aggie is a fa r cry from G arlan d ’ s g irl o f th e stre e ts!
I !
in U nder th e W heel, A lice Edw ards. In th e c o n tra st one p e rc eiv e s th e
m elo d ram atic fo u n d atio n of G arland's re a lism . A lice Edw ards, lik e M aggie,
is a young Irish w om an who com es from a c ity te n e m e n t, but in stead o f w orking
in a sh irt fa c to ry , A lice is a p ian ist who is beginning a pro fessio n al c a re e r. This I
is possible becau se h er fa th e r is no drunken b ru te like M aggie's, but a d e c e n t
m an who beggars h im self to pay fo r h e r lessons. And of course w hen A lice
is in d ire s tr a its she ch an ces to m eet an id e a listic young so cial re fo rm e r ra th e ri
| f
th a n an explo itiv e lad ies' m an like M aggie’s P ete . F or all G arland's o b je c tively!
re a lis tic d escrip tio n s o f e x te rn a l conditions, m elo d ram a was for G arland th e
re a l realism . The problem as G arland m ight s ta te it w asn’t th a t people like
M aggie believed to o m uch in m elodram a; th e problem w as th ey didn’t believe1
deeply enough.
M elodram atic fa ith w as th e linchpin of G arlan d ’ s brand o f realism evinced
in his w ork during th e p erio d 1887-1895. N ear th e end o f th is period G arland
I
jstruck upon an am en ab le te rm fo r his realism a f te r read in g V eron’s A e sth e tic s
jand in co rp o rated th e te rm "v eritism ’’ in to his fin al bow as a re a list in C rum bling
Idols (1894). T h ere G arland rev eals him self: "The re a lis t as v e ritis t is really:
I '
Ln o p tim ist, a d ream er" (52). j
When it b ecam e c le a r to G arland th a t his frien d C ran e's brand o f realism j
I
would express all d ream s as hopelessly d e fe rre d , he would relinquish his p o sitio n
as realism 's advance m an. B ut fo r th e eig h t y ears from 1887-95 in w hich G arland's
dream s seem ed b rig h te st, he was A m erican d ra m a ’s m ost v alian t knight,'
perfo rm in g yeom an's serv ice w h erev er it w as needed. We tu rn now to an a c c o u n t
i
of G arland’s re c o rd in th e d ram a.
i
T h e P r e a c h e r - P l a y w r i g h t
i
In Joseph K irkland's le tte r to G arland o f N ovem ber 13, 1887, in w hich
he called G arland o ff fu rth e r w ork on th e play Love or th e L aw , th e re is a
^sarcastic re fe re n c e to G arland's " lite ra ry in d u stry ." By th is tim e o f course
G arland had sco red a m ajor su ccess w ith his series o f le c tu re s on th e g re a t
a c to r Edwin B ooth's in te rp re ta tio n o f S h ak esp eare.^ In add itio n , as I have no ted ,
[hove or th e Law, w ritte n during th e autum n of 1887, was G arland's firs t ex ten d ed
w ork as w ell as an a tte m p t a t p u ttin g him self upon th e sta g e in his own play.
A t th e very sam e tim e , G arland was also busy review ing books, w ritin g p o etry
and d e scrip tiv e sk etch es, and try in g a n o th er play title d The M cTurgs, a w ork
in m uch th e sam e ro m a n tic vein as Love o r th e L aw . The M cTurgs deserv es
|
an e x ten d e d ex am in atio n becau se it p reced es Love or th e Law as G arland's
firs t known fo rm al a tte m p t a t p layw riting. ]
As is th e case w ith Love or th e Law , it is likely th a t G arlan d did n o t
co m p lete The M cTurgs. It w as n ev er published or p erfo rm ed and e x ists in
m an u scrip t as an o u tline sk etc h o f six leav es, accom panied by th e beginning
I
o f th e play and a n o th e r frag m e n t of a la te r scen e, w hich to g e th e r to ta l fo u r
a d d itio n al leav es (#204a, b). From th e c o n te x t, th e la te r scen e seem s as if
i
it is not m uch rem oved from th e beginning, so a sm all in terv en in g p o rtio n o f
(the m an u scrip t w as probably w ritte n but is now lo st.
! If m y e s tim a te o f th e m an u scrip t's d a tin g is c o rre c t, G arland sto p p ed
w ork on T he M cTurgs so th a t he could begin or co n tin u e Love o r th e L aw . The'
M cTurgs w as probably w ritte n in th e m iddle of 1887, sh o rtly b e fo re G arland's
jfirst v isit hom e to Iowa and D akota in Ju ly 1887. In G arland's B oston notebook
fo r th e period M arch 3, 1886, to May 5, 1887 (#17), th e re is an u n d ated e n try
on p. 152 w hich is a b rie f scen ario fo r a play title d The M cTurgs. In G arland's
p e x t notebook fo r 1887, w hich includes tra v e l n o te s from his trip hom e, there,
is a o n e -sen te n c e sk etc h title d "W illiam M cTurg" (#18-2). T urning to thej
m an u scrip t o f th e play itse lf, one finds th a t th e pap er, inking, fo rm a t and
ty p e w ritte n portions a re th e sam e as Love o r th e Law, w hich could p lace th e
com position a t roughly th e sam e tim e o f au tu m n 1887. But th e c o n te n t o f The
I
M cTurgs com pared to Love or th e Law in d ic a te s a slightly e a rlie r d a te . In Love!
i
o r th e Law th e G arland c h a ra c te r, R an ee K napp, is "a te a c h e r and a ra d ical,"
b u t th e G arland c h a ra c te r in The M cTurgs, John R eid, is "th e d ra m a tic editorj
on th e C hicago M irror." It was e a rlie r in his s ta y in Boston th a t G arland was'
w ritin g of Edwin Booth and harboring d ream s of being a p ro fessio n al play
re v ie w er, and only in la te 1887 did he begin to id en tify h im self as a rad ical.
i
Also, Love or th e Law co n cern s th e re tu rn of a B oston te a c h e r to his hom etow n,;
w hich is a su b ject G arland w as m ore likely to ta k e up a f te r his re tu rn hom e
I
in th e sum m er o f 1887. Thus I b eliev e The M cTurgs was w ritte n in 1887 ju st:
b efo re G arland's trip during Ju ly and A ugust, and th a t Love o r th e Law was
w ritte n ju st a f te r th is trip .
T h ere is no qu estio n th a t The M cTurgs is a less finished play, but th e re
is enough o f it to draw se v e ra l te n ta tiv e conclusions and to u n d erstan d w here
G arland w as heading. The play opens:
[Scene fir s t. S tre e t o f a w estern tow n, show ing a w ooden ta v e rn
w ith a huge sign "The T e rrito ria l H ouse. On th e porch (by w hich
th e side-w alk runs) U ncle Billy Banks th e p ro p rie to r is s e a te d
heels on th e railin g read in g a w ell-th u m b ed bible. E n ter John
R eid a g u e st and friend.]
"Hello! U ncle Billy, read in g th a t Book y e t? Lay it down I w ant
you to te ll m e ab o u t th e se M cTurgs. ;
U ncle Billy
"Now I find th a t th e ad v en t d o c trin e a in t g o t no m ore'n th irty
p in ts ov er th e —"
R eid
I T h ere U ncle Billy—Spit o u t th a t p en cil and give m e your a tte n tio n .
I w an t to know ab o u t th e se people. Is th e soprano a M cTurg?
Billy
"Oh! Naow, w e're g e ttin a t it! Naow w e're a g e ttin g to th e p in t.
I th o u g h t you was p u rty e n th u sia stic . (204b)®
i
l
It tu rn s o u t th a t th e M cTurgs a re a lo c al fa rm fam ily who sing in th e
choir a t th e lo cal A d v en tist church w here th e v acatio n in g John R eid has h eard
i
th e m . R eid becom es e n th ra lle d w ith th e q u a lity o f th e ir singing, and th e sopranoj
is o f course th e young b e a u tifu l R uth M cTurg w ith whom R eid is s m itte n . R eid
is disbelieving th a t he could d iscover such ta le n t and b eau ty o u t in th e boondocks,j
b u t he ev en tu ally v isits th e M cTurg hom e to e n tre a t th em to com e to C hicago.'
t
The m anuscript ends as R eid is m aking his p itc h to Hugh M cTurg, th e fam ily
I
p a tria rc h : |
Hugh. B et I don u n d erstan d , I don't see w hat y o u -- ;
R eid. Only th is g ra n d fa th e r. I am th e d ra m a tic e d ito r
on th e C hicago M irror and, and w hen I h eard you sing" (tu rn in g
to D avid) "I could n o t help b u t th in k how m uch th e o p e ra tic stage'
had m issed—"
[Hugh.] The stag e! You m ean th e th e a te r. (204b)®
As it stan d s, th e play is th e seed o f a q u in te sse n tia l A m erican success'
'fantasy: co u n try folk m ake good in th e big c ity . This p rem ise m ay seem tire d
jto to d ay 's re a d e r, b u t G arland should be c re d ite d w ith a tte m p tin g p erhaps th e
jfirst known p lo t-ty p e o f its kind, one th a t has so lid ified in to th e A m erican cliche
th a t th e b e st p la ce to d iscover a s ta r is a t Schw ab's D ru g sto re. One hundred
y e ars ago G arland's ro m a n tic sto ry would have seem ed q u ite fa n ta s tic , and
its v ery new ness speaks o f im p o rta n t changes in A m erican c u ltu re as w ell as;
o f d o m inant a sp e c ts o f G arland's ap p ro ach to lite ra tu re . The play p o in ts o u t
jChicago's em erg in g s ta tu s as a c u ltu ra l c e n te r fo r th e W est. F ive y ears la te r
th e g re a t C hicago E xposition would sea l th e c ity 's claim as a lead in g urban;
c e n te r. M illions o f people from th e A m erican W est could now have a t le a s t
psychological access to o p p o rtu n ities th a t w ere previously av ailab le only in,
New York. G arland's play is th u s e m b le m a tic o f a considerably w idened field,1
of vision a ffo rd e d to young m en and w om en on th e farm . The d ream o f escap e
| i
could becom e a re a lity —esp ecially w hen th e re w ere d ra m a tic e d ito rs lik e John
R eid poking around. j
John R eid's d iscovery of th e singing M cTurgs fu rth e r su g g ests tw o deeply
ro o te d v alues th a t im pel n early a ll o f G arland's fic tio n . The firs t is th e notion!
o f p e rsp e c tiv e , defin ed as a broad view o f A m erican life . G arland's lo c al color!
jfiction is founded upon th e principle o f p e rsp e c tiv e which is n e a tly d ra m a tiz e d
in th is play by John R eid's d iscovery o f a slic e o f A m erican life w hich he n ev er
knew ex isted . The ex p lan atio n R eid re c e iv e s from U ncle Billy as to w hich is
th e b e st church to a tte n d is a b it of v in tag e G arland lo c al color rig h t down
to its use o f d ia le c t: j
[Billy.] " . . . Y 'see y e ste rd a y m ornin we was s e ttin out
on th e porch t ’ my ta v e rn w a tch in ’ th e folks goin t ’ church, an’
says John ’U ncle Billy, w h ere’ ll I go t ’ ch u rc h ? ’ An’ says I wel,
th a t depends on th e kind o’ fo d d er y’ w ant says I. If you w ant
h e llfire a n ’ brim sto n e go to th e F ree-M eth o d ists. If you w ant
sty le go t ’ C ong’eg ashunists, n if y' w ant m usic go up t ’ th e A dvents
a n ’ h e ar th e M cTurgs sing." (204b)
A nother value fo rm in g th e su b -te x t o f th is play is G arland's d e m o cratic
b e lie f in th e ascen d an cy o f th e com m on m an. John R eid p rizes th e M cTurgs
b ecau se o f th e ir n a tu ra ln e ss and lack o f c itifie d a irs. One o f th e p revailing
m y th s o f A m erican th e a te r and film has been th a t to find th e b est a c to r for,
L p a rt one needs to find "a n a tu ra l." G arland is one o f th e very first to estab lish
i
th is m o tif. F o rg et ab o u t th e m erciless c o m p etitio n and w olfish p ra c tic e s o f
th e th e a te r business; in G arland's A m erica a ll th e M cTurgs n eed to rise to stard o m
t •
is th e ir n a tu ra l ta le n t.
One stops a good d e al sh o rt o f callin g The M cTurgs a landm ark, esp ecially
sin ce it was n ev er published o r p erfo rm ed , and u n til now n ev er discussed. But'
■ it is an in d icatio n o f how G arland m ight have been ah ead o f his tim e s as a
p layw right. B renda M urphy has observed, "A m erican d ra m a tic realism has|
i
co n sisten tly been ab o u t tw e n ty y ears behind fic tio n a l realism in its dev elo p m en t^
(1). To w h atev er e x te n t—and it is probably a v ery sm all one—th a t Garland's]
iplay is a w ork o f re a lism , I b eliev e M urphy's co m m en t m ay be e x ten d e d to a|
g e n e ra l law of th e tim e la g b etw een th e d ev elo p m en t o f th e d ram a versus the,
novel. A ccordingly, it would be so m etim e a f te r 1900 b efo re th e portrayals]
o f ru ra l A m ericans on th e sta g e , when th e re w ere any a t all, advanced much]
beyond th e lo c al color ste re o ty p e s p re sen te d by Ja m e s A. H erne in such a playj
as Shore A cres (1893). So G arland w as th e firs t to ta k e ru ra l A m ericans seriously
. _ _ _ _ _ . _ _ _ i
as p a rtic ip a n ts o f success sto rie s. But u n fo rtu n a te ly fo r G arland no one was
y e t buying such sto rie s p a rtly b ecau se th e au d ien ce o f people w ith ex p erien ces
I :
lik e G arland's who could a p p re c ia te such plays w as s till e x tre m e ly sm all in 1887.J
Even so, G arland would re tu rn to th is su b ject m any tim e s, cu lm in atin g with'
!
his b e st novel R ose o f D u tch er's C ooly (1895).*0
G arland probably sto p p ed w ork on The M cTurgs less b ecau se th e re was
no m a rk e t fo r it th an b ecau se it w as th e first o f his fa ile d a tte m p ts to ren d e r
th e h aunting w om an soprano whom th e te e n -a g e d G arland had seen in th e
m edicine show a t th e C ounty F a ir in Iow a. G arland o nce re m a rk e d , "I have
n e v er been ab le to p u t th a t w om an in to v erse or fic tio n alth o u g h I have tried "
.(Son 169). The soprano R u th M cTurg in The M cTurgs is c lea rly th a t w om an.
B ut w ith th is f ir s t in c arn atio n o f h er, G arland's play m ay have fallen under
the w eight o f try in g to do too m uch sin ce it is also c le a r th a t th e M cTurgs
re p re se n t G arland's m o th er's fam ily , th e M cC lintocks. G arland em ploys th e
sam e firs t n am es fo r th e se c h a ra c te rs as th o se o f th e M cC lintocks, and th e
'c h a ra c te r d escrip tio n s co rrespond e x a c tly to w hat is known o f th e re a l-life
I I
iM cClintock clan. The fam ily of G arland's m o th er w as e x tre m e ly close to G arland
Lnd deeply loved by him as "a group o f p o te n tia l p o e ts, bards, and dream ers",
(Son 24). G arland co n tin u ally trie d to re p re se n t th em in his fic tio n and eventuallyj
su cceed ed in th e sto ry "Up th e C oule." So if fo r no o th e r reaso n , G arland's
play is im p o rtan t as a fir s t ste p to w ard a p erso n al lite ra ry g oal. B ut th e play
its e lf could n o t su ccessfu lly ach iev e th e dual am b itio n to re p re se n t both th e
M cC lintock fam ily and th e young w om an from th e C ounty F air. The e rro r o f
a tte m p tin g too m uch in one w ork is a com m on e rro r in young w rite rs, esp ecially
those as re la tiv e ly unschooled as G arland. In Love or th e L aw , w ritte n a sh o rt
tim e a f te r The M cTurgs, G arland would decid e to c o n c e n tra te solely on th e
^irl from th e m edicine show, and th e re s u lt w as a m uch b e tte r play and his
on g est w ork to d a te . j
Love or th e Law concluded th e firs t phase o f G arland's c a re e r as aj
p lay w rig h t. The com m u n icatio n s w ith Josep h K irkland persu ad ed G arland to
^concentrate for th e tim e being on sh o rt p ro se. D uring th e y e a r 1888 G arland
published "M rs. R ipley's Trip" in H arp er's W eekly, w hich ev en tu ally found its
jway in to M ain-T ravelled R oads, and th e s e rie s o f sk etch es in th e A m erican
known as "Boy L ife on th e P rairie." B ut it can n o t be fo rg o tte n th a t G arland's
jchief a c tiv ity a t th is tim e w as teach in g . In his c a p a c ity as P ro fesso r o f A m erican
L ite ra tu re for th e B oston School o f O rato ry , G arland continued to stu d y and
jteach th e d ram a. One notebook co n tain s su ch to p ics as "The D ecline o f th e
D ram a," "A m erican D ram a," and "M odern D ram a" (#17).
I
! When in Jan u a ry of 1889 a frien d took G arland to see Jam e s A. H erne's
i
D riftin g A p art, G arland w as c a ta ly z e d in to a c tio n , for H erne was th e playw right
i
G arland had been try in g to in v en t. G arland's re la tio n sh ip w ith th e H ernes and
!
his assistan c e w ith M arg aret Flem ing have been d o cu m en ted ,11 b u t still
unexam ined a re th e five plays o th e r th an U nder th e W heel and _ A M em ber o f
| i
ithe Third House w hich G arland w ro te under th e stim u lu s o f his days w ith H erne.
The firs t o f th e se unpublished plays w as The R ise o f B oom tow n, a lm o st
c e rta in ly w ritte n in e arly 1889 rig h t a f te r G arland saw H erne's D riftin g A p art
F or a t le a s t tw o y ears G arland had been w orking spo rad ically on a m anuscript;
e n title d The R ise o f B oom tow n, "an a tte m p t a t reco rd in g som e little p o rtio n
of a unique so cial m ovem ent—th e m odern railw ay s e ttle m e n t o f th e v a st p ra irie
w e st."15* Bit by b it G arland c o n stru c te d an absorbing but plo tless series ofj
d escrip tio n s based on his own ex p erien ces o f 1881-84 w hen he lived in Ordway,'
South D ak o ta. He trie d to publish th is as a novel b u t w as only able to sell one
73
'short e x c e rp t from it to H arper's W eekly, called "H olding Down a C laim in a
B lizzard" (28 Jan u a ry 1888). G arland was le f t w ith a la rg e am ount o f lo cal
color m a te ria l on his hands w ith no sto ry to hang it on—u n til he saw D rifting,
i
^Apart. H erne's play w as its e lf a lo cal color p re se n ta tio n of a New England^
! !
Ifisherm an w ith a w eakness fo r drink who m arries a p u re young g irl and te sts'
i ' I
! 1
h er lo y a lty to th e u tm o st w ith his drunkenness. G arland w as tak en w ith K a th erin e ’
I
H erne's p erfo rm an ce as th e lo n g -su fferin g w ife M ary M iller, b u t th e play to uched
an even d eep er chord in G arland who once said o f A rena e d ito r B. O. Flow er,
I
|"He's one o' my kind. D on't sm oke, chew , drink nor fool aw ay his tim e" (L e tte r
jto H erne 21 Nov 1890 #2146). G arland tra n sp la n te d H erne's p rem ise from New
{England to South D akota and th e re su lt was H am lin G arland's te m p e ra n c e play,
;The R ise o f B oom tow n.
The ex istin g m an u scrip t would in d ic a te G arland did co m p lete th is fo u r-a c t
play, w hich in som e w ays is an adv an ce over H erne's m ore m elo d ram atic play;
I •
|th at ends happily. G arland typed his m an u scrip t, d esig n ated m his hand as a,
"2nd Rough O utline," b u t only A ct I and A ct IV a re e x ta n t (#21 la ). G arland
i
seem s to have continuously num bered th e sev e n ty -tw o pages o f his ty p e sc rip t;
pages fo u rtee n th rough six ty -fiv e ap p ear to be lo st. Y et th e re is m ore th an
I
enough in th e tw e n ty rem ain in g leav es to an aly ze, esp ecially sin ce th e beginning,
and th e ending a re in ta c t. ,
j
G arland's play is th e sto ry of "a dead failu re" nam ed H urst and th e|
"handsom est w ife in th e te rrito ry ," his angelic F lo ren ce. Six m onths previous,!
H urst and F lo ren ce m oved o ut from B oston to open a hard w are sto re , but thej
business w ent broke. This drove H urst to drink—and in to th e open arm s o f the!
p ro p rieto rs o f th e O at-b in Saloon, leaving F lo ren ce hungry and h eartb ro k en .
In th e opening scen e, F lo ren ce has com e to th e O at-b in to re trie v e h er husband
74
who is so drunk th a t he trie s to h it F lo ren ce, b u t is p rev en ted from doing so
by M ajor M ullens, e d ito r o f th e lo c al new spaper The Spike. M ullens co m m iserate s
i
w ith F lo ren ce and discusses h er sad case w ith his junior e d ito r A lb e rt Seagraves*
|th e G arland stan d -in . H urst re c eiv e s no sym p ath y from S eag rav es: "A man
w ith a w ife like th a t is a c rim in al th e firs t tim e he e n te rs a saloon." N eith er
M ullens nor S eagraves can un d erstan d "how a w om an w ill stan d by a m an
so m etim es, do as he w ill to h er." But H urst's continued drinking fo rce s F lo ren ce
i
fin ally to leav e h er husband and re tu rn to B oston. H urst's drinking grow s even
I
w orse and he falls in w ith th e grow ing band o f B oom tow n row dies. When H urst
and his drinking buddies te a r up th e O at-b in and te rro riz e a black farm w orker,
jseag rav es goes fo r th e M arshall to re s to re o rd er. But th e y re tu rn to o la te :
I
jn u rs t has been shot and killed in a braw l. T he play ends on th e p ro n o u n cem en t
I :
,of H urst's d eath , follow ed by a "quick c u rta in ."
i In The R ise o f B oom tow n G arland has w ritte n a b rillia n t p ie ce of
! ■ !
te m p e ra n c e propaganda. The p a th e tic scen es b etw een H urst and F lo ren ce a re
»
j
skillfully draw n fo r th e ir e ffe c t, and H urst's d e ath is c alc u la te d as a d eterren t.!
i
W here H erne in D riftin g A p art reco g n ized th a t as a p ra c tic a l business m atter,
he would have to supply a fifth a c t in w hich his m arried couple re c o n cile , G arland|
had no com punction ab o u t ending th e play "re alistic a lly " due to his d eep er
p erso n al co m m itm en t to th e value o f te m p e ra n c e . In th is w ay, H erne's play
is m uch m ore in th e line o f th e con v en tio n al te m p e ra n c e plays w hich had th e ir
g re a te s t vogue in th e 1850's w ith such sta g e essays as T he D runkard's W arning,
(1856) and Ten N ights in a Bar Room and W hat ^ Saw T here (1858). T he m ain
c h a ra c te r in such plays, as in H erne’ s, c a re e n e d around in drunkenness u n til
I
he re fo rm ed and w as re s to re d to his happy hom e. D ram a h isto rian W alter M eserve
n o te s, "The rew ard s fo r such refo rm w ere so g re a t th a t, as one w ag su g g ested ,
75
it w as alm o st enough to m ake one ta k e to drink ju st so one could sto p and re a p
| i
th e b en efits" (R evels H isto ry 181).
_ ,
But G arland's te m p e ra n c e play is unco n v en tio n al n o t only in its tragicj
ending, b ut in w here it p laces th e m ajor resp o n sib ility fo r H urst's alcoholism .i
! !
The ty p ic a l te m p e ra n c e play ap p ro ach ed th e problem as a personal m oral issue)
I ' '
w ith th e aim o f in stru c tin g th e w aves o f new A m erican im m ig ran ts in th e
I
d o m estic v irtu es. B ut G arland ap p ro ach es th e problem as a public p o litic a l
issue, fo r w hile H urst is indeed rep u g n an t to S eag rav es, th e G arland c h a ra c te r
c lea rly tra c e s th e ro o t cau se of th e problem to th e p ro fite e rin g salo o n -k eep ers
^ h o in th is play a re unw illing to c u t H urst o ff. G arland's aim is to sh u t th e
saloons down by law . A t th e end o f th e play S eag rav es ra n ts a t th e ow ner of
th e O at-bin who has c h a ra c te riz e d th e binges o f H u rst and his pals as good fun:
I
S eag rav es indignantly
"It's ju st such unscrupulous fellow s as you a re th a t poison'
th e w hole land w ith your cussed m o n ey -g ettin g . D ollars a re
! w o rth m ore to you th an hum an souls. The re p u ta b le c itiz en s
! o f B oom tow n h a te you and your tr a f f ic . You p re te n d to be
re sp e c ta b le b u t to m ake te n d o llars, you a re w illing to tu rn out
a herd of drunken savages on th e tow n. You a re m ore dangerous
th an a d y n a m ite r—
F rank [frien d to Seagraves]
"Shh! D ont go to o fa r S eag rav es. H all is a leg itim ate:
business m an acco rd in g to th e law s o f th e U nited S ta te s, but;
le ts go and see th e M ajor and th e M arshall and see if so m eth in g
c a n 't be done." I
S om ething could indeed be done and it w as c alled P ro hibition. G arland'sj
play rem inds us th a t th e process w hich ended in 1919 in th e ra tific a tio n of thej
E ig h teen th A m endm ent had its beginnings in th e la te 1880's w hen tem p eran ce'
I
ad v o ca te s sh ifte d th e ir cam paign from a tra d itio n a l m oral p lea to political!
i
a c tio n . A t th e v ery tim e G arland w as w ritin g his play in B oston th e s ta te of:
M assach u setts had p laced a P rohibition A m endm ent on th e b allo t. This
j
am en d m en t w as d e fe a te d in an e le c tio n on A pril 22, 1889, b u t te m p e ra n c e
a c tiv ists had m ade th e ir p o in t. The A nti-S aloon League w as fo rm ed in 1894'
| i
and it was n ot long b e fo re C a rrie N ation w as h a tc h e tin g saloons in K ansas like|
[the one G arland d ep icts in his play. So G arland's 1889 play w as q u ite in step
w ith th e P rohibition m ovem ent. G arland m ight have had th is play produced
I
had he put it into th e rig h t hands o r a t le a s t given it a m ore fittin g title , b u t1
! i
n e ith e r Jam e s A. H erne nor anyone e lse n e a r G arland w as p re p a re d to stag e
so b la ta n t a p iece o f ag it-p ro p .
While th e re a re no o th e r rec o rd s or docum ents re la tin g to th e play
m an u scrip t, G arland undoubtedly show ed it to H erne who m ay have been helpful
to G arland in o fferin g d ire c tio n s fo r how to p u t a finished play to g e th e r. Along
iwith th e ty p e sc rip t o f The R ise o f B oom tow n th e re a re tw e lv e le av e s o f a
I
I
holograph m an u scrip t th a t ap p ea r to be a previous a tte m p t to d ra m a tiz e th e
i
B oom tow n m a te ria l (#211b). It follow s closely th e ty p e sc rip t, b u t its th re e
scen es are fa r less focused and th e te m p e ra n c e th e m e is less e x p lic it and s e t
a g ain st sub-plots co ncerning th e c o n stru ctio n of th e ra ilro a d and S eag rav es'
jeffo rts to p rin t m uckraking new s s to rie s. One g a th ers th a t G arland w ro te th is
b e fo re he saw D riftin g A p a rt, sin ce seein g th e play is probably w h at sp u rred
G arland to rev ise his e a rlie r s ta r t in to a sim ilar te m p e ra n c e play. A gain, given1
t
G arland's close re la tio n sh ip w ith H erne, it is likely H erne saw and co m m en ted
on th e m an u scrip t a t som e po in t. B ut w h e th er or n ot th is is th e case, the!
ty p e sc rip t o f The R ise o f Boom tow n show s G arland le arn ed in d ire c tly from;
i
H erne th e prin cip les o f A risto te lia n p lot s tru c tu re . This solved an enorm ous
I
problem fo r G arland w hich had p re v e n te d him from finishing his tw o previous
i
plays. G arland had ta k en up th e H ow ellsian em phasis on c h a ra c te r o v er plotj
but he had done so to o p re sc rip tiv e ly and w ith o u t th e a b ility to providej
p sychological te x tu re . This fo rce d him to produce b rie f c h a r a c te r sk etc h e s
77
a lm o st exclusively. By observing H erne and discussing d ram atu rg y w ith him ,
I
G arland a c c e p te d th e need fo r plot in ad d itio n to c h a ra c te r p o rtra y a l. It was'
i
I
a c ru c ial lesson fo r G arland and one th a t en abled him to p roceed w ith m ore
co n fid en ce to longer w orks. The R ise o f B oom tow n w as th e re fo re a m ilesto n e
in G arland's c a re e r: it w as his firs t long finished w ork and his firs t one in ten d ed
,as a w ork o f so cial re fo rm . G arland w as now poised for th e m ost p ro d u ctiv e
jperiod o f his w ritin g c a re e r. '
i
G arland follow ed Boom tow n w ith his one published play, U nder the'
W heel (1890), w ritte n in th e la st h a lf of 1889.13 with bo th plays now av ailab le
fo r com parison, one is able to see U nder th e W heel as th e sequel to The R ise
1
i
jo f B oom tow n. W here th e e a rlie r play p re se n ts Boom tow n in th e m idst o f its
i
fev erish railro ad -in d u ced p ro sp erity , U nder th e W heel re tu rn s to Boom tow n
I
to p re sen t th e h o rrifying tria ls o f th e Edw ards fam ily now th a t th e boom has'
jgone bu st. In th is sen se, th e tw o plays to g e th e r co m p rise a cy cle of n a tiv e
:A m erican h isto ry , and th u s re p re se n t one o f th e v ery e a rlie s t e ffo rts by a b
A m erican playw right to com e to te rm s w ith th e problem o f a n atio n w ith no,
h isto ry . !
1 A m erican h isto ry plays w ere by no m eans new in 1890. The R evolutionary!
War p re d ic tab ly spaw ned such an ti-B ritish p o litic a l propaganda as M ercy W arren's
The G roup (1775) as w ell as such school p ieces as H. H. B rackenridge's The B a ttle
i
o f B unker H ill (1776). W illiam D unlap m ade a serio u s a tte m p t in A ndre (1798)!
to use h isto ry to d e p ict th e dilem m a G en eral W ashington fa c e d in dealing w ith
i
a cap tu red B ritish spy, b u t it is sig n ific a n t th a t D unlap fe lt th e n eed to revise^
I
th is play in 1803 as The G lory o f C olum bia w hich is a b la ta n t g lo rific atio n ofj
A m erican arm s. T he p o in t is th a t w ith no n o tab le ex cep tio n u n til U nder the;
W heel, A m erican h isto ry plays w ere co n cern ed w ith m ythologizing th e p a st.
jEven P ercy M acK aye as la te as 1920 w as o fferin g ch ronicle plays such as
(W ashington, The Man Who M ade Us w hich em phasized p a g e a n try and p a trio tic 1
| ;
se lf-c o n g ra tu la tio n . '
In his tw o B oom tow n plays G arland p e rc eiv e d th e problem fo r any w rite r
seek in g h isto ry in th e W est: :
I j
B oom tow n had no p a st to sp eak of, and nothing g re a t
a t p re se n t—b u t th e fu tu re! Oh! th e fu tu re o f B oom tow n w as
a g re a t w ord. It w as in fin ite in ran g e and su g g ested a v a st h isto ry
o f th e m ost su p erlativ e and u n p aralleled so rt. (P iz e r "B oom tow n"
353)
With no p ast and th e re fo re no p o litic a l e sta b lish m e n t in p la ce , G arland
'was fo rce d to w rite a purely so cia l and econom ic h isto ry . H ence in The R ise
o f B oom tow n G arland fo cu sed on th e so cial problem o f alcoholism and in U nder
i
th e W heel th e econom ic problem o f land sp ecu latio n . In doing so G arland found
i
th a t A m erica's lone tra d itio n w as b o o sterism . It didn’t m uch m a tte r if drunken
so ts like H urst o u tn u m b ered m en w ith jobs, o r if th e Edw ards fam ily died penniless
I
on an useless fa rm , b ecau se b o osterism arg u ed ev ery th in g would soon be a lrig h t.
j
P o litic a l sc ie n tis t H arlan H ahn has n o te d in "The L ost H istory o f Boom tow n":
I
I This m ilita n t, tra d itio n a l fa ith in th e tow n's fu tu re
i c o n stitu te d a hegem ony th a t p rev ailed in a ll a sp e c ts o f com m unity
life . In p o litic s, fo r ex am p le, th e n a tu ra l id e n tific a tio n w ith
business in te re s ts and th e dem ands o f th is o p tim istic fa ith have!
produced an unshakeable R epublicanism in sm all tow ns. (606) i
I
G arland, in cid en tally , w as a R epublican all his life , su p p o rtin g T heodore
R o o se v e lt, d e te stin g Woodrow W ilson, and stan d in g up fo r H e rb ert H oover during!
th e D epression. His a tte m p t a t w ritin g h isto ry in his B oom tow n plays g a v e ;
i
him no ch o ice, fo r he d isco v ered th a t a n o tio n of h isto ry w as a b se n t from his,
h e rita g e , as it w as ab sen t to som e e x te n t fo r all A m ericans. This goes som e
w ay to w ard explaining why a f te r 1900 G arland b ecam e such a stau n c h A nglophile,
going so fa r on one o f his m any v isits to England as to lo c a te his a n c e s tra l hom e
and in v ite h im self to te a w ith its in h ab itan ts. I
I
With no h isto ry , A m ericans could find c o n tin u ity only in su ccess, andj
I
G arland found th a t no A m erican h isto ry e x isted e x c e p t as a success sto ry . F a ilu re 1
I
w as alw ays m arg in alized , and th e A m erican a ttitu d e to w a rd fa ilu re was well;
\ i
ex p ressed by G arland in The R ise o f B oom tow n in th is b ru ta l sem io tic:
H all
[[The drunken] H urst whose head had begun to sw ay, rolls o ff
his c h air on th e floor.] "W ell I'll be d in g -w h elted if he a in 't gone
o ff."
! M ajor, ro llin g him w ith his fo o t,
j "H e's gone into th e sodden sta g e . I know your kind o f a m an.
! You s ta r te d o ff w ith a show er o f sparks but you fizzled . You
j w ere n e v er ta u g h t to govern y o u rself w hen a boy. You kicked
th e dog and sto n ed th e c a t. You have dam m ed and a ssau lted
ev ery th in g th a t has crossed your p a th sin ce. Y ou're a failu re."
* Which is to say, "you're un -A m erican ." G arland's ad v o cacy o f so cial
refo rm in th e se tw o B oom tow n plays can th e n be seen as an e ffo rt to m ake
|
an A m erican o ut of everyone by allow ing all m en to p a rtic ip a te in th e h isto ry
o f su ccess.
I
t
j In 1890, th e re w as s till one group o f A m erican s who w ere excluded
1
from th a t h isto ry , and th e se of course w ere N egroes. One can n o t leav e G arlandfs
i
B oom tow n cy cle o f plays w ith o u t observing how he deepens our insight to a n o th er j
a sp e c t of A m erican h isto ry . G arland d e lib e ra te ly p re se n ts a pain fu l scen e ini
The R ise of B oom tow n in w hich Bob th e black fa rm hand is fo rc e d to dance ■
fo r th e am u sem en t o f H urst and his fellow row dies. Since such abuse is a t th e
I
hands o f m en G arland d e p icts as rep reh en sib le, and sin ce th e G arland c h a ra c te r
is not p re sen t during th is scen e, one can re ly th a t G arland h im self did n o t condone!
such co n d u ct, esp ecially given his fa th e r's ab o litio n ism and his own m any
s ta te m e n ts deploring ra c ia l d iscrim in atio n . But th e key point h ere is th a t
,G arland's lo cal color realism is q u ite e ffe c tiv e in rem inding us th a t
80
R ec o n stru c tio n had ended and Jim Crow had re p la c e d it and would soon be
i
in stitu tio n a liz e d by th e 1896 Suprem e C o u rt decision in P lessy v. F erguson,
The scen e in G arland's play begins a f te r R ipper, th e saloon sin g er, stops to re s t
his voice:
R ip p er
. . H ere's a d ark ey -n ev er knew a darkey th a t couldn't sing,
Bob com e o u t an' give us a tu n e.
Bob. ;
"C an t sah, tr o a t to o dry."
They all laugh and R ipper says,
"No flies on you. M udder w et th is dark ey 's w h istle.
D arky drinks and com es back.
"W hat a re you doing up h ere anyw ay, Bob."
Bob w iping his m outh w ith his hand.
"H ahvestin'. G oine help tra sh now."
Ju d g e.
"O le t up on his personal h isto ry . Go on w ith y'r sinnging, Bob.,
G ive us a reg u lar darky hym n." '
Bob sings "Go chain th e lion dow n." The re s t applaud a f te r w hich
is h eard yells and whoops o u t-sid e. . . .
H all
". . .[H urst and th e o th e r drunks are] com ing back We'll je s t slip
in to th e o th e r room —"
Bob nervously.
"L e'm e go to o , boss."
H all
"O you sta y h e re , th ey w on't h u rt you."
Bob is th en abandoned to th e thugs who drink w ildly. One o f th em sooni
'spots Bob: !
i
W histling Bill. j
"Hullo! H ere's a nig. C om e an ' ta k e a sm ile, Sam bo, nothing!
proud ab o u t us." Bob drinks. "And now w e'll have a dan ce. Nigs!
a re g re a t on th e dan ce. C le ar th e tra c k th e re f'r Sam bo." |
Bob j
"I c a n 't dan ce, Boss, got a soah h eel." j
Bill playfully draw ing a rev o lv er. i
"It's ag in st th e law f'r a darky t' have a so re h eel. When th e
proud C au cassian says dance he d ances. Go!"
This distu rb in g scen e pulls in from th e m argin a b it of A m erican h isto ry
w hich th e a te r audien ces o f th e day would n o t have s a t still fo r. No th e a te r
m an ag er in A m erica would have stag e d a scen e in w hich w h ites w ere so
81
co rro siv ely p o rtray e d . H ere G arland seem s to be saying th a t like it or not,
th is scen e is a re a l-life p o rtra it o f th e s ta te o f ra c e re la tio n s in A m erica.
W hatever it rev eals o f G arland's p a th o s-o rie n ted ap p ro ach to realism and re fo rm ,
th e scen e also in d ic a tes th e im p ra c tic a l n a tu re o f G arland's playw righting. H ere
he w rite s a p a rt fo r a black a c to r even though black a c to rs w ere excluded from
w h ite-ru n th e a te rs u n til w ell into th e tw e n tie th c e n tu ry .
B ut G arland w as alw ays m ore co n cern ed w ith p reach in g th an production.
Indeed, th e title page o f The R ise o f B oom tow n announces, "W ith prologue spoken
by th e au th o r." If G arland couldn't m ake it on th e sta g e as an a c to r, he was
d eterm in ed to do so a s a p re a c h e r. The H ernes w ere q u ite aw are o f G arland's
p en ch an t for e d ito ria liz in g in his plays. To be su re, G arland w as an e ffe c tiv e
te a c h e r and im p ressiv e sp eak er, so m uch so th a t H erne e n th u siastic ally joined
G arland in his single ta x cam paign. N ev erth eless, b o th Jam e s and K ath erin e
H erne in flu en ced G arland to d ra m a tiz e ra th e r th a n discuss in his plays. One
i
re su lt was th a t Jam e s H erne ag reed to c o lla b o ra te w ith G arland on a new p lay j
F all R iv er, probably w ritte n in e arly 1890 sh o rtly b efo re G arland's U nder the;
W heel ap p eared in A rena in Ju n e. The play still fe a tu re d a refo rm th e m e but
I
w ith H erne's a c tiv e p a rtic ip a tio n G arland m ay have hoped th a t one o f his plays
w ould be produced a t la s t. U n fo rtu n ately , as G arland re c a lle d in R oadside
M eetin g s, th is e ffo rt also "cam e to nothing" (85), b u t th e in co m p lete m an u scrip t
I
th a t rem ain s w a rra n ts co m m en t, esp ecially sin ce th is a tte m p t to show howj
a New England m ill could be run on th e " fre e -tra d e basis" w as th e germ o f an
idea th a t ev en tu ally did re s u lt in G arland's firs t produced play in 1909, M iller
o f B oscobel. j
I
The plan fo r F a ll R iver as G arland d escrib ed it w as fo r H erne to w rite
one a c t and G arland a n o th e r, but only G arland's A ct IV is e x ta n t (#199). S ince
821
th e tw o au th o rs co p y rig h ted th e play on A pril 15, 1890, as "A M odern Play inj
F ive A cts," one m ight h azard a guess th a t H erne as th e m ore ex p erien c e d
p lay w rig h t w ro te th e firs t, th ird , and fifth a c ts , w hile G arland w as assigned;
| i
th e second and fo u rth a c ts . W hatever th e division of lab o r, H erne w ro te toj
i
iHowells on May 19, 1890, th a t th e play "did n o t com e o ut rig h t" (HarvardJ
U n iversity H oughton L ibrary). Judging from G arland's holograph m anuscript!
of A ct IV, th is re su lt m ay have been due to th e tw o au th o rs' in ab ility to reco n cile
a ro m a n tic m elodram a w ith th e ir goal of so cial c ritic ism . G arland in later:
y e a rs did r e fe r to F all R iv er as a m elodram a, a form in w hich H erne w as of;
! :
course a d ep t. But th e m elo d ram a o f d estin ed lovers could n ot also accom m odate!
jG arland's brand o f refo rm ism , as one o bserves in A ct IV. |
The fo u rth a c t begins in th e in te rio r o f one o f F all R iv er's m any cotton!
w eaving m ills. H ere we m e e t, in o rd er, th e g o o d -h e a rte d m ill supervisorj
F resid d en , a m ill w orker nam ed N orah whom F residden loves, and N orah's f a th e r ,1
| t
jEnnis, an old m an only now reco v erin g from th e se tb a c k o f having his old m ill
[destroyed by fire . They a re a w aitin g th e v isit o f th e m ill's new m anagem ent,!
j i
|the C ra m er fam ily. The e ld e r C ra m er has bought th e m ill as a g ift to both
I
his son B ertie and his d au g h ter Winna who has ju st m arried a sm o o th -ta lk e r
nam ed C aldw ell. The C ra m ers arriv e and m e et th e m ill w orkers who a re thrilled ;
I
i
th a t th e G arlan d -lik e B ertie is d e term in e d to run th e m ill on "th e fre e -tra d e
[
basis." F resid d en th en re la te s N orah's sto ry to B ertie: N orah had gone to Bostonj
w here she w as d eceiv ed in to m arriag e by a scoundrel. Soon a f te r , th e m ill1
o p e ra te d by N orah's fa th e r burned down, and fa th e r and d au g h ter w ere broken;
and abandoned by N orah's husband.
A t th e very m om ent F residden concludes th is ta le o f w oe, C aldw ell
w alks in, only to be id e n tifie d as th e sco u n d rel who ruined N orah. The villainous
'C aldw ell's gam e is up. Poor W inna, who so loved C aldw ell, learn s th a t h er husband
had n o t divorced N orah and is th u s a b ig am ist. All a re ready to hand C aldw ell
over to th e p o lice w hen N orah in te rc e d e s: "Hush! F or [W inna's] sak e give him
I
a ch an ce to re fo rm —he can do us no m ore h arm —." The c u rta in falls on A ct IV.
W hether C aldw ell re fo rm s in th e fin al a c t—and it is a good b e t he does—
•is essen tially irre le v a n t to th e play's p rim ary focus upon N orah as th e
jm elodram atic heroine. H aving b een d eflo w ered by th e c ity shark C aldw ell,
(Norah su rely is to be re s to re d to F resid d en , th e m an who tru ly loves h er, and
|
re s to re d as w ell to h e r rig h tfu l p la ce in th e m ill. But a su b tle te n sio n em erg es
b etw een th is classic m elo d ra m a tic situ a tio n and th e osten sib le purpose o f G arland
I
and H erne to cham pion th e in te re s ts o f com m on m ill w orkers. On one hand
!
th e play obviously defends th e rig h t of w om en to hold jobs; N orah is p o rtray e d
i
as a stro n g m odern w om an. F u rth erm o re , th e goal o f th e fre e -tra d e cam paign!
I
a d v o cated by G arland and H erne was to rem o v e p ro te c tio n ist ta r if f s so th at!
i
U. S. c o tto n ex p o rts would in c re ase . P resu m ab ly th is would s tim u la te g row th
and e n tre p e n e u ria l o p p o rtu n ities fo r people lik e Ennis who w an ted to s ta r t up!
th e ir own m ills. The c o tto n grow ers in th e South su p ported f r e e -tra d e b u t th e
developing in d u stries in th e N o rth east g en erally opposed it sin ce th e y sought;
I
exclusive access to th e m assive A m erican m a rk e t. Ennis's m ill w as probably
burned down by an a g e n t o f th e estab lish ed m ills w hich re se n te d c o m p etitio n .
So in running th e ir m ill on th e fr e e -tra d e basis, G arland and H erne probablyj
thought th em selv es noble so cial re fo rm e rs who in sisted on eq u al o p p o rtu n ities;
j
fo r com m on m en and w om en.
But on th e o th e r hand, G arland and H erne m ay n o t have seen how th e ir
proposal a c tu a lly stre n g th e n e d m ale hegem ony and su p p o rted th e in te re s ts o f
I
ibig in d u stria lists. F irst, it m ust be re c a lle d th a t F all R iv er had e n te re d th e
84
n atio n al v o cabulary a f te r a young m ill w orker nam ed Sarah C ornell w as found
m u rd ered th e re on D ecem b er 21, 1832. S ince H erne w as m ore fa m ilia r th an
G arland w ith New England, it was probably he who su g g ested using F all R iv er
as a se ttin g , possibly as a way to c a p ita liz e on th e tow n's n o to rie ty . (Two y ears
a f te r G arland and H erne w ro te th e ir play, F a ll R iv er sea le d its claim to in fa m y
! as th e tow n w here L izzie B orden allegedly a x m u rd ered her p a re n ts on A ugust
4, 1892.) The high le v e l o f public in te re s t in th e S arah C ornell m u rd er was!
i !
p a rtly sa tisfie d by a play w ritte n by M ary C lark e, firs t p erfo rm ed in New York!
jc ity in 1834. B ut public co n cern w ent beyond th e lurid d e tails o f th e m urder.
'David R ichard K asserm an points out in F all R iver O u tra g e ; L ife , M urder, and
Ju stic e in E arly In d u strial New England (P h ilad elp h ia, 1986) th a t S arah C o rn e ll1
b ecam e a sym bol o f th e firs t g en eratio n of A m erican w om en to a tta in so cial
and econom ic independence. As such, th e tr ia l o f h er accused m u rd e re r, a
M eth o d ist m in iste r nam ed Ephraim K ingsbury A very, becam e a c o n te st b etw een
I
!
industrialists who wished to defend Cornell, thereby assuring their supply of
|
( cheap fem ale labor, and Avery's lawyers who attacked Cornell as a woman of
loose morals who had no business in the male workplace. Though Avery was
Lcquitted for lack of evidence, public opinion condemned him and validated;
the position of industrialists who needed to keep hiring women. Norah in Garlandj
and Herne's play is therefore the direct descendent o f Sarah Cornell. Fall River j
is a play any mill owner could applaud, because its thesis is that a woman's!
place is indeed in the mill. When Norah tried to overcome the prescribed
boundaries o f her factory town life and went up to Boston, she found out that
the big city is no place for a woman. So although Garland and Herne take on
I
th e h ercu lean ta sk o f clean in g up th e d irtie s t tow n in New England, th e
m e lo d ram atic form o f th is play con tin u es to o b je c tify w om en like N orah and
85
jlim it th e ir p o ssib ilities. If G arland and H erne in ten d ed N orah to resem b le h e r
n am esak e in Ibsen's A D oll's H ouse, th ey fell sh o rt o f th e m ark.
G arland and H erne m ay not have p erceiv ed th e irony o f a so cial refo rm
m elodram a th a t re in fo rc e s th e very exp lo itiv e conditions it seek s to c o rre ct.'
I
|The m essage o f m elo d ram a co n sisten tly is "ev ery th in g 's going to be all right*
■ in th e end." It is a m essage ill-su ite d to so cial re fo rm a g ita to rs w hose job it'
is to convince an au d ien ce th a t e v ery th in g is n o t a ll rig h t and to issue a call^
fo r a ctio n ra th e r th an a hym n of assu ran ce. F all R iver is, in sh o rt, th e p ro d u ct
of a bad m arriag e, as lite ra ry co llab o ratio n s o fte n a re .
T h ere is evidence to su g g est th a t th e G arlan d -H ern e co llab o ratio n was
a shotgun w edding a rra n g ed by G arland a c tin g as his frien d 's savior. L a te in >
1889, H erne was grow ing despondent o v er his c a re e r. Then fifty y ears old,;
i I
H ern e w as draining his funds on D riftin g A p a rt, th e play w hich so m oved G arland.'
H e had all b u t given up hope th a t re a lis tic d o m estic d ram a could find an aud ien ce,
and had accordingly s ta r te d w ritin g a new play Shore A c res, w hich ev en tu ally
becam e his b iggest h it in 1893 by v irtu e of its se n tim e n ta lity . B ut in 1889 H erne'
was e x a sp e ra te d enough to p u t aside w ritin g th is new play. On O cto b er 9th
he w ro te G arland:
I'll n ev er a tte m p t to produce it [Shore A cres]—or any o th e r playj
o f my own—on my own m oney e x c e p t it be o f th e "stu ffe d dog"|
or lurid m elo -d ram a sty le . I have convinced m yself most!
thoroughly th a t th e public w an t r o t—or stro n g situ a tio n . Therej
is no p a tro n a g e for a d e lic a te play like Shore A cres—or D riftin g
A p art. (#2146) |
A m onth e a rlie r K ath erin e H erne had w ritte n G arland an equally;
d e sp e ra te le tte r in w hich she confided th a t h e r husband w as a ll w rong fo r th e
le a d ro le in D riftin g A p a rt and th a t th e play was a fa ilu re . She even w ent so!
fa r as to ask G arland to use his in flu en ce to g e t h e r an au d itio n fo r th e p a rt
of N ora in an upcom ing p ro d u ctio n of Ibsen's A D oll's H ouse.
H ere w as a situ a tio n cu sto m -m ad e fo r G arland to play th e k n ig h t riding
to th e rescu e. For th e n ex t te n m onths u n til th e la te sum m er o f 1890, G arland
poured n early all o f his en erg ies into helping th e H ernes. The fir s t o rd e r ofj
business w as to g e t Jam e s A. H erne o u t o f th e doldrum s o f in a c tiv ity . G arland
su rely w as th e one who proposed th e c o lla b o ratio n th a t produced F a ll R iv er.
i 1 1 ' ■
If th e play did n ot com e o u t rig h t, a t le a s t G arland got H erne m oving again.
On th a t sco re it su cceed ed b rillian tly fo r a f te r F all R iver G arland stim u la te d
H erne to s ta r t again on Shore A c res. In doing so, H erne co m p letely fo rg o t his
b itte r prom ise n ev er to w rite or produce a n o th e r re a listic play. U nder th e
co ach in g o f G arland, who shoved under H erne's nose th e plays o f Ibsen and
S uderm ann, H erne w as soon w orking e n th u sia stic a lly again. On F eb ru a ry 2,
I
|1890, H erne w ro te G arland th a t Shore A cres w as finished: "H ave ju st finished
fo u rth a c t—it is very stro n g I think. N othing to do now b ut go o v er d e ta ils w hich
i
1 shall begin on to m o rro w " (#2146). N ot long a fte r, H erne began M a rg a re t
| i
[Flem ing. G arland th ereu p o n launched h im self in to his role as H ern e's public'
| I
re la tio n s a g en t, w hich re su lte d in a tr ia l p e rfo rm an c e a t Lynn, M assach u setts
(
on Ju ly 4, 1890, o f th e play th a t is now c re d ite d as th e b irth o f th e modernj
A m erican d ram a. It is no o v e rs ta te m e n t to say th a t th is p a rtic u la r Independence:
i
D ay fo r A m erican d ram a would n e v er have com e b u t for th e lo y al assistance;
o f H am lin G arland. j
But G arland's g en ero sity to H erne should also be seen as a case o f
e n lig h ten ed s e lf-in te re s t, fo r G arland contin u ed to hope th a t th e asso ciatio n
I
w ould bring him his own su ccess as a p lay w rig h t. (One in c id e n tal b e n e fit was]
th a t H erne ag reed to ta k e G arland's younger b ro th e r F ranklin in to his actingj
i
com pany.) W ith th e ir F all R iver c o lla b o ratio n concluded, G arland re le a se d
87
H erne to m ore im p o rta n t w ork and gladly tu rn e d to K ath erin e H erne as his
new p a rtn e r. ]
T h ere w as a n a tu ra l and m utual a ttr a c tio n b etw een K ath erin e H erne
i
I
and H am lin G arland, ow ing in p a rt to th e ir closeness in age; both w ere tw e n ty
y e ars th e junior o f Ja m e s A. H erne. K ath erin e H erne freq u e n tly expressed
h e r wish to G arland to play in lig h t com edy, once w ritin g th a t she "would love
to play Mrs. Som ers in 'The Mouse T rap ,' " th e popular o n e -a c t play w ritte n
by W illiam D ean H ow ells in 1886 (13 Ju n e 1889 #2148). G arland seized the)
I
o p p o rtu n ity to supply K ath erin e H erne w ith an id ea fo r a play w hich he had
fir s t jo tte d down in to his 1886 notebook: !
I
M rs. C .— j
She w as b ut new ly em an c ip a te d fro m th e fe a r o f saying and
thinking w hat she pleased and th e lib e rty of fre e -th o u g h t produced
in h er a sp ecies o f in to x ic a tio n . . . . (#17) j
Such a c h a ra c te r w as su re to ap p eal to K a th erin e H ern e, who w orked
w ith G arland to develop it in to th e com edy o f m anners ev en tu ally title d Mrs.
C risp . This w as th e play w hich G arland b rie fly m entions in R oadside M eetings:1
i
"Then I w orked w ith K a th erin e on an Irish com edy fo r h er, w hich we nam ed
I'Mrs. C risp', but th a t also ra n in to th e ditch " (85). If it did so, it was not for|
la c k o f e ffo rt, fo r th e tw o w orked a t it o ff and on fo r ov er tw o y ears. Garland's;
i i
la s t re fe re n c e to th e play ap p ears in his notebook fo r th e fa ll o f 1892: "Mrs.l
C risp—Throw aw ay 3rd and 4th a c ts" (#31). In th e w in te r o f 1892 G arland had
m oved to New Y ork C ity w here th e H ernes had a lre ad y m oved in D ecem ber
o f 1891 to win a h earin g fo r Shore A cres. While H erne was busy in New Y ork
w orking as a sta g e d ire c to r fo r Klaw and E rlan g er th rough th e spring o f 1892,
G arlan d was a fre q u e n t v isito r to th e H erne hom e in H arlem , w here he and;
K ath erin e k ep t plodding along on Mrs. C risp . When in 1893 G arland le f t New|
Y ork to see his p a re n ts and join th e e x c ite m e n t in C hicago o f th e W orld's Fair,I
M rs. C risp w as p erm an en tly abandoned. All th a t rem ain s o f it is th e ex ten d ed
sce n a rio w ritte n into G arland's n o tebook fo r th e fa ll o f 1892, b u t an e a rlie r
version of th e w ork called M arrying A T itle e x ists in th e G arland P ap ers (#205).
The m an u scrip t o f M arrying _ A T itle is d a te d 1889 in G arlan d 's hand
on th e title page o f th e second a c t. The play w as probably begun so m etim e
1
| i
in th e la s t h a lf o f 1889 a f te r K ath erin e H erne had m ade known to G arland her'
d esire to play in a com edy. The holograph m an u scrip t co m prises la rg e portions
o f th e first th re e a c ts , to g e th e r to ta llin g e ig h ty -six leav es. T hese in d icate
(the w ork w as evenly divided, sin ce th irty -n in e leav es a re in K ath erin e H erne's
Land and fo rty -sev e n leav es in G arland's. K ath erin e w ro te th e fir s t p a rt ofj
!
A ct I and m ost o f w h at rem ain s o f A ct III; G arland w ro te th e la s t p a rt o f A ct
'I and a ll o f A ct II.
In m any re sp e c ts, th e play is an engaging ev o catio n o f th e so cia l m ilieu
'of B oston w hich H ow ells fir s t brought to th e n a tio n a l consciousness. T he p o te n tia l1
o f th e play's p rem ise for so cial com edy and so cia l co m m en tary is read ily a p p a re n t.
jMrs. C risppe (as th e n am e w as sp elled in th is version) is a young widow whose
la te husband has le ft h e r w ith tw o d au g h ters as w ell as a business as a landlord
'of sev e ra l B oston room ing houses. She is a ssisted by old M cB reen, an Irish janitor!
i
w ith a com ic brogue. T h ere is also an u n m arried frien d o f M rs. C risp p e's nam ed
T essie B linker who fashions h e rse lf a lady o f g e n tility and re fin e m e n t and who^
fr e ts o v er h e r m arriag e p ro sp ects: she would like to m arry th e sta id acco untant;
i
C h arles B oylston but is p u t o ff by his low s ta tio n and th e d isapproval o f h er
p a re n ts who wish h e r to m arry an English duke. One day a jo u rn a list from th e
D aily E ven ts nam ed R eev es who is also a te n a n t o f M rs. C risp p e's com es to
!
ask g ra c e fo r th e re n t due on th e grounds he has had to lend m oney to a starving.
G erm an im m ig ran t nam ed Ludwig—th e sam e Ludwig who gives G erm an lessons
89
to Mrs. C risppe's d a u g h ters. N atu rally M rs. C risppe is m oved by Ludw ig's p lig h t
and soon it is le arn ed th a t Ludwig is th e son o f a G erm an baron w hose rig h tfu l
in h e rita n c e w as sto le n by a g reed y b ro th e r. Seeing an o p p o rtu n ity to w ork for
jthe good Of all, M rs. C risppe devises w ith R eev es a schem e to m arry T essie
i |
o ff to Ludwig, th e re b y satisfy in g T essie's d e sire to m arry in to no b ility and
i I
R escuing Ludwig from his m iserab le life in a hovel. This sch em e ad v an ces so
fa r th a t a m arriag e c o n tra c t is draw n b e tw ee n T essie and Ludw ig. B ut thej
p lot un rav els as T essie aw akens to th e im p o rtan c e o f m arrying fo r love ra th e r
th a n m oney. O nce T essie decides to elope w ith C h arles B oylston, re v e lin g in
th e a n tic ip a te d ro m an ce o f p o v erty , M rs. C risppe is le ft w ith th e problem o f
w h at to do w ith Ludw ig. W hat else can she do but acknow ledge h e r feelings
fo r Ludwig and m arry him h erself? The play ends, as G arland in d ic a te s in his
notebook, w ith th e re q u isite w edding cerem o n y o f classic G reek New C om edy.
In th e hands o f G arland—who w as w ritin g his first and only com edy—and
!
K ath erin e H erne, who w as also an in ex p erien ced playw right, th e e x ec u tio n of;
I
i
th e play's com ic p o ssib ilities is in co n sisten t. Y et one m ust still be d isappointed
th a t M arrying A _ T itle w as n o t p erfo rm ed or published, for th e re a re sev e ra l
a sp e c ts o f th e w ork w hich se t it a p a rt from th e co n v en tio n al A m erican com edies
o f m anners o f th e tim e s, and w hich a n tic ip a te th e d e ft com edies o f Langdon
M itchell and C lyde F itc h in th e early 1900's. The m ost im p o rtan t o f th e se is
th e alm o st parodic tre a tm e n t o f th e c u ltu ra lly d eterm in ed ro les im posed on
w om en, som ething w hich w as th e p ro d u ct o f K ath erin e H erne's p a rtic ip a tio n
in th e p ro je c t. K ath erin e H erne w ro te th e sce n e in w hich T essie re v e als shej
is to elope w ith th e plebian C h arles B oylston and T essie's ra p tu ro u s d e sc rip tio n ’
o f fu tu re m a rrie d life is d e lib e ra te ly overdraw n:
. . . I've com e to my senses. A t la s t m y eyes are open to C harly's
B oylston's chivalrous m an-hood—w o rth beyond a ll p ric e o f p e tty
9 0
lu c re --I sh all sieze th e jew el o f his love and w ear it fo re v e r before:
a n o th e r less w orthy robs m e o f it. I shall cook and w ash and
scru b and rub and m end—all fo r him —Ah, L ouise—th in k o f the,
ro m an ce th e e x ta sy of giving up ev ery th in g fo r him . Think o ft
th e glory I sh all have in sac rificin g m yself upon th e a lta r o f true;
love—to m arry C h arly B oylston to live on tw e n ty d o llars a w eek.'
To scrim p and sav e—and tu rn and tw is t to m ake b o th ends m e et.
[She is d elirious w ith e x c ite m e n t—] (#205)14
i
No au d ien ce o r re a d e r can see T essie as anything o th e r th a n a silly;
jo o se. The c le a r in te n t h ere is to c a ll a tte n tio n to th e ridiculousness o f th e
ro m a n tic e x p e c ta tio n s o f w om en lik e T essie who gull th e m selv e s in to thinking:
th e burdens fo rced upon th em in m arriag e f it th em to be h ero in es. The
i
im p licatio n is th a t such se lf-d e c e p tio n is n ecessary if w om en a re to accep t,
if n o t endure m a rriag e. !
j The very n ex t scen e is th e fu n n iest in th e play as K a th erin e H erne places
I
[Tessie in a situ a tio n c a lc u la te d to b u rst th e bubble o f h e r ro m a n tic notions,
o f a w om an’ s w ork. M rs. C risppe is p rep arin g a ro a st fo r a din n er and w hen
she is c alled o ut o f th e k itc h e n she asks T essie to b a ste th e m e a t and leaves
th e helpless T essie behind: i
T essie [Standing in m iddle of sta g e and g azin g blankly but
co m p laisan tly ab o u t her] B aste th e m eat! I'd be d elig h ted —I'm
h ere please! b u t w here's th e m e at? [flits ov er to oil sto v e —lif ts ,
lids o f various p o ts—peeps into th e m —sn iffin g a t each] M m-mm.
d on't th a t sm ell delicious! Ah, h e re it is! A ra g o u t o f—[sn iffin g '
i t —th en dubiously] m eat! [F lourishing lid d ra m a tic ally ] NoW|
to b a ste it!—how 's it done? I was under th e im pression th a t b a stin g 1
bore a clo se re la tio n to dress m aking. J u s t w hat p o sitio n it holds
to th e cu lin ary a r t—I'm a t a loss to know.
The Irish se rv a n t M cB reen com es to T essie's re scu e and te a c h e s her
i
to b a ste , w hich she does aw kw ardly and ju st b efo re th e ro a s t burns. When Ludwig:
e n te rs and finds T essie ex h au sted from h er o rd eal, th e young w om an explains,'
"I'm learn in g to be a poor m an’s w ife! Its p e rfe c tly d elig h tfu l I assu re you. I
n e v er d ream ed th e re w as so m uch e x c ite m e n t to be g o tte n o u t o f cooking." j
91
K ath erin e H erne's c h a ra c te riz a tio n of T essie is rem ark ab le in th a t T essie
i
I
is a w om an who does n o t possess th e re q u isite d o m estic skills. T h ere had o fte n
o e en com ic A m erican w om en c h a ra c te rs on th e stag e who had a ris to c r a tic
I !
p reten sio n s, ex p ecially a f te r A nna C o ra M ow att c re a te d M rs. T iffan y and her
d au g h ter S eraphina in th e com edy, Fashion (1845). But T essie is our firs t w om an1
c h a ra c te r in w hich th e so u rce o f com edy is h er in ep titu d e a t w om en's w ork;
|th at is, she is th e re p re se n ta tio n o f a w om an who does not a c t like a w om an
! I
'as th e cu ltu re d efin es th a t g ender. Even w hen m uch la te r Langdon M itchell
p resen ts a w ife who b e ts on horse ra c e s in The New Y ork Idea (1906) or w hen
I t
'R achel C ro th e rs p re sen ts a w ife who is as good a scu lp to r as h e r husband in
I , i
H e and She (1911), both th e se play w rig h ts assign th e ir m arried w om an th e
jdom estic d u ties acknow ledged to be a w ife's. So in h er p o rtra y a l o f T essie,
K a th erin e H erne d eserv es c re d it fo r a c le v e r parody th a t hopes to question'
J i
|the n atu raln ess o f g en d er ro les.
I
j The problem is th a t H erne's g en tly subversive co m m en tary is b lu n ted
by th e play's d o m inant th e m e th a t happiness depends upon m arry in g fo r love.
] f th e re is one th e m e in A m erican d ram a d a tin g from R oyall T yler's The C o n tra st
(1787) w hich p lay w rig h ts have co n fid en tly proposed as being q u in tessen tially j
A m erican, it is th a t in th e New World as opposed to th e Old W orld, people m arry!
| i
fo r love. The co ro llary to th is th em e is th a t an A m erican w om an m ust be free!
| I
|to m arry th e m an she loves, ra th e r th an th e one her fa th e r s e le c ts. O f coursej
the w om an's autonom y e x ten d ed only so fa r as th e se le c tio n o f h e r m a te , a fte r,
w hich she w as e x p e c te d to a c t like a w om an. The portion o f th e m anuscriptj
which G arland w ro te conveys th is th e m e q u ite d ire c tly and rh e to ric a lly , and|
I
thus b ecom es a m ale an ch o r th a t fixes M arrying A _ T itle as th e d efen se of
je n d e riz a tio n r a th e r th a n th e re je c tio n of it. F o r ex am p le, G arland's M rs. C risppe
92
is a b la ta n t m o ra liz e r who w arns T essie, "M arry fo r love—don’t m arry fo r m oney
as I did—and like m e have n e ith e r m oney nor love." M oreover, G arland's Mrs.
C risp p e m ay be an in d ep en d en t businessw om an, b u t his c h a ra c te riz a tio n of
h e r as w illfully stro n g seem s to su g g est th a t she fu rtiv e ly longs to be a "real"
w om an once m ore:
Tessie ". . . Why don't you m arry ag ain , I say, in stead o f going,
around h ere lik e a clerk w ith a pen behind your e ar— j
Mrs. C . "I lik e business. I w ouldn't be such a useless c re a tu re
as you a re d e a r—now don't g e t angry—I m ean as I was'
w hen Mr. C risppe provided fo r m e—fo r th e w orld. I'm
happy as can be—e x ce p t w hen in te re s t and ta x e s is to
be paid." I
I
The play concludes w ith dual ironies: th e in d ep en d en t Mrs. C risppe
/
I
is th e one who m arries a title , and th e d ile tta n te T essie is th e one who m arries;
] !
a com m oner. Both do so in th e nam e o f tru e love, th u s asse rtin g th e im portance!
o f a w om an's c o n fo rm ity to th e p rev ailin g m odel of d o m e stic fam ily life . A m ericaj
depended on w om en to ta k e th e ir rig h tfu l p lace in th e k itc h e n and th e nursery.!
The lite ra ry co llab o ratio n b etw een H am lin G arland and K ath erin e H erne mayj
th e re fo re be ta k en as a u sefu l m etap h o r for m a le -fe m a le pow er relationships;
in th e la te n in e te e n th c en tu ry . H ere is a case in w hich th e m ore su b tle andi
!
subversive fem ale voice o f K ath erin e H erne w as drow ned o u t by G arland's m ale
b lu ste r. Y et, co llab o ratio n w ith a m an m ay have been th e only w ay for K ath erin e
H erne to have h e r v oice a t all. Is it possible th a t M rs. C risp "ran in to th e d itch ,"
as G arland p u ts it, b ecau se K ath erin e H erne w as being a "w om an d river" who
w as, in G arland's view , foolishly try in g to s te e r th e ir play o ff th e b e a te n p ath ? j
i
D esp ite th e dissonance o f G arland's and K a th erin e H erne's co n trib u tio n s
to M arrying A _ T itle , th e play had enough p o te n tia l as e n te rta in m e n t th a t th e
tw o w rite rs w ere ab le to g e t Jam e s A. H erne to assist th e m . On th e title page
o f A ct II G arland c re d its Ja m e s A. H erne as one o f th e play's au th o rs, b u t none
93
o f th e e x ta n t m an u scrip t is in his hand. In his le tte r to G arland o f F e b ru a ry 2,
1890, in w hich he te lls o f finishing Shore A cres th a t day, Ja m e s A. H erne assu res1
G arland, "I w ill be read y to go to w ork on M rs. C rissppe" (#2146). But sin c J
H erne w as deep in his own w ork, th is m ay have m ean t his p a rtic ip a tio n in
I
M arrying _ A T itle w as lim ite d to th e ro le o f a re a d e r and ad v iser. H erne su rely
R ecognized th e g re a t am o u n t o f w ork n e ce ssa ry to reco n cile his w ife 's w ork
w ith th a t o f G arland's, and he w as probably re lie v ed not to have to fa c e th e
ta s k w hen all th re e d ecid ed to d ev o te th e m selv e s to M arg aret F lem in g . G arland
and K ath erin e H erne did n o t resu m e a c tiv e w ork on M arrying A _ T itle , although
I ■
it is c le a r th e y co n tin u ed to discuss possible revisions a t le a s t u n til G arland's'
t
hew scen ario fo r th e th ird and fo u rth a c ts w as w ritte n in to his notebook in th e
i
t 1
fa ll 1892. A few m onths la te r G arland h ead ed fo r C hicago and he saw th e H ernes
| I
ag ain only on b rie f v isits.
! A p o stsc rip t to th e sto ry o f M arrying _ A T itle in d icates G arlan d 's p e rso n a l
a tta c h m e n t to K ath erin e H erne. T h ere is a slip o f th e pen on a scen e which]
' I
jGarland w ro te fo r th e beginning o f A ct II in w hich R eeves th e jo u rn a list and'
I
M rs. C risppe have a lively exchange o v er th e day's new s. In th is tw o -p ag e scene,;
I
g a rla n d 's cues fo r his c h a ra c te rs a re w ritte n as "R eeves" and "M rs. C ." But
I
th e la s t cue for Mrs. C risppe is in c o rre c tly w ritte n as "M rs. R eev es." Since
th e role o f M rs. C risppe w as w ritte n for K ath erin e H erne and since W alter R eev es
■ is th e G arlan d stan d -in (rec all th a t G arland also used th e c h a ra c te r W alter R eev es
as his re p re se n ta tiv e in U nder th e W heel), it is sa fe to conclude th a t G arland's
u n c o rre c te d e rro r in th e m an u scrip t re v e als his subconscious d esire fo r union
w ith K ath erin e H erne. The p rem ise o f M arrying A . T itle is indeed a fa n ta sy
G arland h arbored: M rs. C risp p e/K a th e rin e H erne is w idow ed and th u s free
94
to m arry fo r love a m an of h er own age. The play b ecam e fo r G arland a way
to re a liz e th is fa n ta sy vicario u sly .
D ialect would b eco m e an im p o rta n t e le m e n t of G arland's lo cal-co lo r
a e s th e tic , and in M arrying A _ T itle he ex p lo ited th e o p p o rtu n ity fo r its use by
jskillfully p resen tin g th e G erm an o f Ludwig and th e Irish o f M cB reen. The use
Jof d ia le c t is also to be found in th e frag m e n t o f y e t a n o th e r play he w ro te during
i i
th is period title d T re g u rth a . T h ere a re only eig h t le av e s o f th e m an u scrip t
I
in G arland's p ap ers, b ut he did co m p lete th e play sin ce th e subm ission reco rd
i
w ritte n in his n o tebook show s he se n t it first to C o sm opolitan m ag azin e, possibly
in 1888, and th en to A rena on A ugust 30, 1890 (#23). Both m agazines re je c te d
I
i I
Jit. The rem aining m an u scrip t frag m en ts do not provide a basis fo r in te rp re ta tio n ,!
I
! j
b u t th e re is enough to id e n tify it as y et a n o th e r a tte m p t by G arland to place.
! i
h im self in a ro m an ce in w hich th e hero g e ts th e g irl. T reg u rth a is a c h a ra c te r
I
jwho once ap p eared in th e c a s t o f The R ise o f B oom tow n as "W ilfred T reg u rth a.
M.D. B oston, M ass." 1
; In T reg u rth a, th e G arland c h a ra c te r is a young b ach elo r d o cto r with!
i I
a co m fo rta b le B oston p ra c tic e who falls in love w ith a g irl nam ed Sadie whomj
he m e ets w hile ice sk atin g . L ittle m ore is le f t to us, e x ce p t fo r a b rie f scene!
in w hich P a t th e Irish se rv a n t ap p ears to call T reg u rth a to dinner. When P a t
I
shoos th e c a t from th e stu d y , his sp eech is re p re se n te d in d ia le ct:
"Oh th e re ye a re now—s e ttin ' up th e re like th e doc h im self—a -
lookin' a t th e books like th e w ise auld b e a st y' a ir. Be Gob. I
believe y e'v e g o t a b it o' th e devil in ye . . . . (#213) ,
G arland's use o f d ia le c t h e re is by no m eans re v o lu tio n a ry but it is cap ab le
and in fo rm ed and d iffe rs som ew hat from th e d ia le c t o f th e heavy brogue he
p u t in th e m outh of old M cB reen in M arrying _ A T itle . This re su lts from th e
su b tle d istin c tio n G arlan d drew b etw een th e sp eech o f an Irish b u tle r and ani
' 95
Irish h o te l ja n ito r. G arland's use o f m ore fin ely honed d ia le c t cam e from his
'hours w ith Ja m e s A. H erne:
H erne w as a g re a t w ag and s to ry -te lle r and one o f th e m o st
acco m p lish ed m a sters o f d ia le c t I have e v er know n. H e could
rep ro d u ce alm o st any a c c e n t and could d ra m a tiz e a t a m om ent's
n o tic e any scen e or dialogue his w ife dem anded o f him .1
(R oadside 82)
H erne th u s d isch arg ed his g re a t d e b t to G arland by helping th e la tte r
s tre n g th e n a skill o f his c r a f t th a t would serv e him w ell fo r th e re s t o f his long
c a re e r. B ut if th e re w as one th in g th e th ir ty y e ar-o ld G arland w a n ted m ore
d e sp e ra te ly th an lite ra ry su ccess, it w as a w ife. Jam es A. H erne w as th e
ifa th e r-fig u re who sto o d in th e w ay o f possessing K ath erin e H erne, so G arland
I
■was le ft to re e n a c t re p e a te d ly such sce n a rio s as th e one in T reg u rth a in w hich
I i
i
his fic tiv e double found w edded bliss. It is sm all w onder why G arlan d should
jtake so keen an in te re s t in H ow ells's novel, A M odern In stan ce (1882), fo r he
'm ust have been asto u n d ed th a t som eone lik e B artley H ubbard could dispose(
o f a p e rfe c tly d ev o ted w ife. In G arland's d ra m a tiz a tio n of A _ M odern In sta n c e ,;
th e fa u lt lies e n tire ly w ith th e d isso lu te p h ilan d erer H ubbard. An ex am in atio n
of th is G arland d ra m a tiz a tio n gives th e sh arp est possible insight to G arlan d 's1
sen se and sen sib ility during a tim e he is said to be a ra d ic a l re a list.
F or G arland, A . M odern In stan ce had becom e Exhibit A in th e case fori
j
a new re a listic A m erican lite ra tu re , and th e ap p ellatio n "M odern" w as included
1 !
in th e s u b -title s o f m any o f G arland's w orks during th is period. G arland evidently,
w as anxious to ad ap t A M odern In stan ce in to a s ta g e play, fo r he had no sooner
m et th e H ernes b efo re he w as pressing th em to re a d th e H ow ells book. Although;
Ja m e s A. H erne p ro te s te d he had little tim e fo r read in g , K ath erin e H erne replied^
I
to G arland on Ju n e 23, 1889, "I have re a d 'A M odern In sta n ce .' It is a m asterly.
I
]
p ie ce o f w ork and no m istak e it m ight m ake a m ag n ificen t play" (#2148). j
I
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ I
96|
Jam e s A. H erne m ay not have sh ared his w ife's view , fo r he w as m uch1
p o r e in te re s te d in stag in g The R ise o f Silas Lapham (1885). H erne w as eager,
to use his new frien d G arland to co n n ect w ith H ow ells. S hortly a f te r th e y m e t
in early 1889, H erne w ro te G arland to ask th a t if he and H ow ells should e v er
i
m ake a play o f Lapham to co n sider him fo r its sta g e m anager. As a th e a te r
p rofessional H erne saw th e p o te n tia l in th e c h a ra c te r ro le of Silas Lapham .j
"C h a ra c te r plays" like Josep h Je ffe rso n 's R ip Van W inkle w ere e x tre m e ly popular.
jWhen G arland asked H erne to counsel his younger b ro th e r who asp ired to go,
on th e sta g e , H erne responded th a t fittin g o n eself to be a c h a ra c te r a c to r w as
i
th e only p ath to su ccess. H ow ells also re c o g n ize d th is, since he advised G arland
,when th e la tte r w as probably a t w ork on Love or th e Law , "if you f it your
i
'c h a ra c te r play to som e c h a ra c te r a c to r, you'll su cceed " (15 Ja n 1888 #2255).>
| ' !
H erne and H ow ells did discuss a d ra m a tiz a tio n o f Lapham fo r n e arly te n y e a rs ,1
but th e p ro je c t n e v er w as co m p leted .
H erne w as n ot ab o u t to ta c k le _ A M odern In stan ce w hich o ffe re d little
o p p o rtu n ity for an ap p ealin g title ro le, b u t G arland plunged ah ead un d au n ted
once K ath erin e H erne seem ed to app ro v e. G arland m ust have th e n p re se n te d
jthe id ea to H ow ells, hoping to estab lish a c o lla b o ratio n . Indeed, G arland re c a lle d
in R oadside M eetings, "I induced Mr. H ow ells to w ork w ith m e on a d ra m a tiz a tio n
o f 'A M odern In sta n c e 1 " (85). B ut th e len g th y m an u scrip t fo r th is play in the!
jGarland P ap ers show s no evidence o f H ow ells’s hand and th e title p ag e isj
in scrib ed , "M r. H ow ells,/A M odern In sta n c e ./D ra m a tiz e d /b y H am lin G arland";
(#207). As should soon becom e c le a r, it is highly unlikely th a t H ow ells actively!
p a rtic ip a te d in G arland's d ra m a tiz a tio n , so w hen G arland says H ow ells worked!
]
w ith him on it, he probably m eans H ow ells discussed it w ith him and g ave him
perm ission to w ork up a tre a tm e n t. It is a te stim o n ia l to G arland's alm o st
97
m onstrous in d u stry —k eep in m ind th a t in ad d itio n to w ritin g six fu ll-len g th
plays in th e period 1889-1892, he also published M ain-T raveled R oads—th a t
he w en t to w ork and produced a m an u scrip t o f 128 le a v e s .16
It is d iffic u lt to pin down p recisely w hen G arland found tim e fo r this,
]
but a good estim ate would be early 1891. Garland's recollection is that his’
work on _ A Modern Instance followed Mrs. Crisp (i.e. Marrying A _ Title), whicJ
I have dated as late 1889, so the beginning of 1890 would be the earliest possible
date for A Modern Instance. The play must have been finished no later than
j
A pril 29, 1891, fo r on th a t day a p p eared G arlan d 's a rtic le , "The Q uestion o f
an Independent T h e a te r" in th e B oston Evening T ra n sc rip t in w hich G arland
a sse rte d , " th e re is . . . a public th a t would su p p o rt a d ra m a tiz a tio n o f 'A M odern
I >
In sta n ce ' " (6). This should be ta k e n to m ean G arlan d had one in hand, and since
i
G arland ra re ly sa t long on a m an u scrip t b e fo re announcing it, th e spring o f
j
1891 seem s to su g g est its e lf as th e tim e o f th e play's com position. j
T here is no re c o rd th a t H ow ells e v er saw G arland's co m p leted m an u scrip t,
i i
jbut if he did he would have reco g n ized his n ovel only by th e pages from th e
novel w hich G arland p a ste d in to his m an u scrip t. O f th e 114 m an u scrip t leav es,
fo rty -e ig h t a re leav es com posed a ll or in p a rt o f pages c u t d ire c tly from thej
novel. This d ra m a tiz a tio n should pro p erly be c alled a re a rra n g e m e n t ra th e r
th an an a d a p ta tio n b ecau se even th e p o rtio n s in G arland's hand a re tra n sc rib e d
closely from th e H ow ells te x t. But in a d ra m a tiz a tio n , re a rra n g e m e n t and
se le c tio n a re ev ery th in g , and in th is case th ey re v e a l G arland's re d u c tiv e read in g
o f th e novel.
G arland's A _ M odern In stan ce is esse n tially a m o rality play th a t a ttrib u te s
th e H ubbard d iv o rce alm o st e n tire ly to B artle y H ubbard's m oral tu rp itu d e . Of
th e novel's fo rty -o n e c h a p te rs, G arland includes scen es from only six teen . The
98]
follow ing sc h e m a tic synopsis o f G arland's play show s how he p re se n te d onlyj
i
th e fram ew o rk o f th e novel's p lo t sto ry :
PA R T FIRST
Scene 1 C hap 4 B artle y and M arcia d e c la re th e ir love, j
S cene 2 C hap 5 S quire G aylord le a rn s o f m a tc h and
a cq u iesces. 1
C hap 6 B artle y is c o n fro n ted a b o u t H annah 1
M orrison and strik e s H enry B ird.
S cene 3 C hap 7 B artley 's a c t is m ade known.
S cene 4 C hap 8 B artley and Squire discuss in cid en t:
B artley d e p a rts.
S cene 5 C hap 12 Bartley and M arcia elope. j
PA R T SECOND |
S cene 1 C hap 22 T h ree y ears la te r; F lavia is born
S cene 2 C hap 23
Scene 3 C hap 25
Scene 4 C hap 26
C hap 25
C hap 28-29
C hap 31
S cene 5 C hap 33
Scene 6 C hap 34
Scene 7 C hap 36
C hap 37
Scene 8 C hap 37
and th e Squire v isits H ubbards in ■
B oston. !
M arcia and Ben H alleck m e e t and
co n v erse ov er F lav ia; B artle y fig h ts
w ith M arcia over h e r seein g H alleck.
B artle y bro u g h t hom e drunk by H alleck.'
The m orning a f te r ; B artle y and M arcia
re c o n cile . :
H alleck calls on B artle y . !
K inney v isits (
M arcia re tu rn s from v isit to E quity,
c o n fro n ts B artley ab o u t H annah
M orrison; B artley leav es h er.
H alleck discusses M arcia's plight
w ith A th e rto n .
C la ra K ingsbury seeks funds from
A th e rto n ; M arcia seeks help from
A th e rto n . ^
Two y ears la te r; H alleck re tu rn s j
and sees A th erto n . j
The n o tic e o f B artley 's im pending
div o rce su it is disco v ered . j
M arcia is in fo rm ed ab o u t B artle \
d ecid es to go to Indiana c o u rt.
G arland has re c o n stru c te d a re a lis tic novel into a m elo d ram a, c a stin g
l
I
B artle y as th e v illain , M arcia as th e id e alize d h eroine, and Ben H alleck as th e
i
v irtu o u s d efen d er of w ronged w om anhood. G arland has co n seq u en tly excisec
ev ery th in g th a t m akes A _ M odern In stan ce an absorbing ev o catio n o f th e New
England so cial m ilieu: th e m oral d ry -ro t o f E quity and th e a b d ic a tio n o f religious
b e lie f, th e "new jo u rnalism " o f th e D aily E vents, w hich is run by th e
coun tin g -ro o m , th e p re se n ta tio n o f B artley H ubbard as th e m odern A m ericanj
'success ty p e and o f M arcia H ubbard as th e m odern A m erican w om an who is
spoiled and se lf-d e stru c tiv e , th e "p re sid e n tia l canvas" of n atio n al p o litic s w hich
l i
i I
tran sfo rm s v o te rs in to b e tto rs . In closing his play w ith C h a p te r 37, G arlan d
I
even elim in a te s th e th e m e o f th e a b su rd ity and u n fairn ess o f div o rce law s. [
W hat G arland does re ta in is b u ttre sse d by sm all b u t sig n ific a n t ad d itions
ithat serv e to iso la te B artley 's in h eren t m o ral w eakness as th e cause o f his bad
m a rria g e . For ex am p le, in G arland's scen e from C h a p te r 26 o f th e novel, M arcia
and B artley p a tch things up a f te r th e drunken B artley w as dum ped a t hom e
;the night b efo re. In th e novel, H ow ells im m e d ia te ly follow s th is scen e w ith
th e one in w hich H alleck discusses th e H ubbards w ith A th erto n . B ut in his play,;
i
p a rla n d ends th e scen e b etw een B artley and M arcia by having M arcia leav e
I
th e room ra th e r th an sta y s e a te d w ith B artley . G arland th en in se rts this:
M arcia yields and g o e s. I
B artley goes to th e dining room and calls "Ann." A g irl ap p ears'
" Ju st bring m e a b o ttle o f Tivoli w ont you th a ts a good girl."
The g irl com es w ith a b o ttle on a s e rv e r. He drinks tw o
glasses o f i t and sends it a w ay . Then sinks back in his c h air w ith
a sig h . ■
W hereupon H alleck e n te rs and shows G arlan d -lik e disgust w ith B artley 's j
in te m p e ra n c e . In G arlan d 's read in g o f _ A M odern In sta n c e , th e re fo re , th e issue;
sim ply is th a t M arcia G aylord has m arried th e w rong m an. G arland rem oves!
th e c o n te x t H ow ells provides in th e novel w hich helps th e re a d e r to u n d erstan d
how both B artley and M arcia a re p ro d u cts o f a sp iritu a lly arid en v iro n m en t.
[ I
In doing so, G arland d e m o n stra te s th e w ide g u lf th a t se p a ra te d his sen sibility;
From H ow ells's. W here H ow ells in ten d ed a so cial c ritiq u e , G arland saw a purely^
oersonal one. I
It m ay seem odd th a t one w ith as w ide a re p u ta tio n as a so cial refo rm er]
as G arland would s te e r c le a r o f H ow ells's so cial co m m en tary in A _ M o d ern 1
100
'In stan ce. A fte r all, a t th is v ery sam e tim e G arland w as th e d arlin g o f such
I 1
ra d ic a ls as B. O. Flow er o f A rena m ag azin e fo r tw o b itte r plays th a t a tta c k e d
i
th e s ta tu s quo. The first o f co u rse w as U nder th e W heel (1890) w hich a d v o cated
th e im p lem en tatio n of th e single ta x , a ta x on land based on its p o te n tia l value
if developed. G arland b eliev ed th is would end land sp ecu latio n . The second
!
play w as A _ M em ber o f th e T hird H ouse, G arland's d e fa m a to ry expose o f c o rru p t
ra ilro a d lobbyists who had b ribed th e M assach u setts L e g isla tu re to aw ard a
jfranchise for an e le v a te d s tr e e t railw ay in B oston. G arland sta g e d an "A uthor's
'Reading" of th is play a t C h ick erin g H all on O cto b er 30, 1890, b u t even Flow er
re fu sed to publish it fo r fe a r o f bringing a lib el suit.*** T hese w orks w ere pow erful
and m o tiv a te d o u t o f genuine co n cern , perh ap s a ll th e m ore so b ecau se th ey
| i
w ere th e p ro d u ct o f a m e lo d ra m a tic app ro ach to so cial re fo rm th a t sought to
su b stitu te evil sy stem s w ith good ones. This is a fa r cry from H ow ells who
j
'in su g g estin g a p erv asiv e so c ie ta l m alaise im p lic a te d ev eryone in his c ritiq u e
in A _ M odern In sta n c e . G arlan d , how ever, in sisted on id e n tify in g th e villain
and ro o tin g him o u t.
j G arland and H ow ells w ere n ev er fa rth e r a p a rt th a n w hen G arlan d pressed
H ow ells to join his re fo rm m o v em en ts. When G arland ask ed H ow ells to w rite 1
Ln in tro d u ctio n to th e p am p h let p u b licatio n o f U nder th e W heel, H ow ells wasj
J !
d ire c t in his reply:
I don't th in k it w ould be w ell fo r me to in tro d u ce o r endorse)
your play. It has good legs of its own and can sta n d on them '
w ith o u t b o lsterin g . I know th e suggestion cam e from your g en ero u s’
w illingness to do an y th in g and ev ery th in g fo r your [single tax]'
frien d s, and I love you fo r it, b u t I don't b eliev e in Hu (8 Aug;
1890 #2255) ;
I
G arland m ight have th o u g h t in su b seq u en tly ad ap tin g _ A M odern Instance!
th a t he w as m oving c lo se r to H ow ells as w ell as an o p p o rtu n ity fo r his first;
101
sta g e d d ram a. But H ow ells could n o t have sa n c tio n e d G arland's d ra m a tiz a tio n
sin ce it w as n e ith e r tru e to th e novel nor e ffe c tiv e as e n te rta in m e n t.
While G arland's d ra m a tiz a tio n o f A . M odern In stan ce w as n o t his fin e st
hour, th e su ccessfu l s ta g e a d a p ta tio n o f a m odern novel is a ra re bird indeed]
N ot u n til a f te r W orld War I would th e re be such su ccesses, few as th e y w ere,
I
as Zona G ale's Miss Lulu B e tt (1920), E rskine C aldw ell's T obacco R oad (1933),'
i
and C arson M cC ullers' The M em ber o f th e W edding (1950). Y et G arland would
n o t have ta k e n so lac e in such know ledge w hen in 1893 he le ft New Y ork fo r
C hicago still an unproduced p lay w rig h t. F o r sev en y ears he had striv e n to a c t
out a fa n ta sy he w ro te for h im self in his notebook o f 1886:
R adburn W rites a P lay
R adburn w ro te a play w hich he re a d to a sile n t few o f us. We
pronounced it "pow erful!" "m odern!" e tc . His sk etch es and stu d ies
o f life w hich had filled th e p ap ers and m agazines had filled him
fo r w ritin g a re a listic d ra m a — "It w ill go R ad , if you can g et
a g re a t a c tre s s to ta k e hold of it." This w as enough. R adburn
w as not a m an to be d au n ted by any a p p aren t d iffic u lty . . . .:
(#17)1® :
G arland c e rta in ly w as n ev er d au n ted by any "ap p aren t d ifficu lty " as
he trie d again and ag ain to w rite a re a lis tic d ram a. The eig h t unpublished plays,
he w ro te during th e se e a rly y ears stan d as m u te te stim o n y to his re so lv e. But|
G arland w as p re v e n te d from achieving th is fo n d e st desire to w rite a re a lis tic
d ram a by a d iffic u lty th a t w as n ot so a p p a re n t: he was n ot a re a lis t. To be,
i
su re , G arland w as sk illed a t g ritty re p re se n ta tio n s of e x te rn a l re a lity as id
M ain-T ravelled R oads. B ut G arland alw ays p la ce d o b jectiv e realism —"veritism ,"j
I
as he p ut it—in th e serv ice o f e th ic a l ro m a n tic ism . The hugely ro m a n tic
e x p e c ta tio n s G arland had fo r th e d ram a w ere w ell ex p ressed by B. O. Flow er
w hen he o u tlin ed a vision th e tw o shared:
We m ust m ake th e people acq u ain ted w ith th e w orld's
m iserab les. I have o fte n w ished th a t th e re could be a so c ie ty
fo rm ed in B oston w here e ac h Sunday m orning splendid m usic
To2
would m ake th e e n te rta in m e n t v ery a ttr a c tiv e for th e people
and esp ecially th e people in th e p o o rer w alks o f life , w here a
sh o rt fif te e n o r tw e n ty m in u tes1 add ress could be d eliv ered by!
som e e a rn e s t sy m p a th e tic o ra to r and w here in th e evening a
play such as I ta k e your "U nder th e W heel" to be could be produced
and th e poor people, young and old could have th e p leasu re of|
seein g it w ith o u t having to pay fo r it. T h at is, th a t each member,
o f th e so c ie ty would be able to d istrib u te tic k e ts to five or teri
or m ore persons th a t th ey have been ab le to find who a re tooj
poor to enjoy th e th e a tre and such am u sem en ts and who could
in th is w ay be m ade happy w hile th e y w ere being stim u la te d
to think and also brought in to u ch w ith th e b e st se n tim e n ts of;
th e day. It m ay be th a t th is is U topian, y e t I firm ly believ e as
V ictor Hugo b eliev ed th a t nothing can e d u c a te th e m asses like
th e d ram a. (5 May 1890 #1759)
An enorm ous ego w as n o t th e le a s t o f th e re q u ire m e n ts for G arland
to s e t him self up as re a lism ’ s advance m an in his ro le as a p re a ch e r-p la y w rig h t.
I
jJoseph K irkland o nce reco g n ized G arland's gran d io se sense o f a lite ra ry m ission:
Y ours o f th e 30th A pril does n o t show th e pro p er s p irit o f h u m ility
and d o cility . Who c a re s fo r your m o tiv es in w ritin g ? You a re (
n o t s e t up fo r a te a c h e r o f m en. A fte r you shall have humbly,
w ritte n fa c ts fo r tw e n ty y ears th e n you can "w hack ’em over
th e head" w ith your p re a c h m e n t. "They w an t to be p reach ed
to ." Y es, by E m erson and T olstoi, b u t not by G arland and Kirkland.!
(3 May 1888 #2469)
G arland could n o t a c c e p t th is, d esp ite his un su ccessfu l stru g g le as a'
I
p lay w rig h t. B esides, he could ju stifia b ly ta k e h e a rt in his acco m p lish m en ts
as a d ram a re fo rm e r and c ritic . As n o ted , H erne's M arg aret F lem ing ow ed|
m uch to G arland, n ot th e le a s t o f w hich w as G arlan d ’s in tro d u ctio n o f Ibsen!
I
t
to H erne. G arland's essay, "Ibsen as D ra m a tist," w hich a p p eared in A rena inj
Ju n e 1890, is th e e a rlie s t re c o rd ed stu d y o f th e N orw egian p lay w rig h t published:
in A m erica, p re d a tin g th o se o f Shaw and H o w e l l s .20 G arland's tre n c h a n t analysisj
o f Ibsen's plays w as w idely c irc u la te d and serv ed to call th e a tte n tio n o f A m erican!
p layw rights to reco n sid er th e ir a r t in lig h t o f th e th re e e le m e n ts G arlan d found
so com pelling in Ibsen: th e em phasis on plain sp eech ov er fu stia n rh e to ric , th e
em phasis on c h a ra c te r o v er p lo t, and th e em phasis on th e m odern w om an o v e r
103
th e fe u d a listic h ero in e. In ty p ic a l fashion, G arlan d su p p o rted his own th e o ry
j
w ith actio n , calling fo r an Ibsen Club in a le tte r to th e Boston Evening T ran sc rip t
o f N ovem ber 9, 1889. This w as to be no m ere group o f p arlo u r-ro o m en th u siasts]
jbut a th o u g h tfu l plan to provide an au d ien ce fo r Ibsen's kind o f d ram a: "The
im m e d ia te purpose o f th e club [is] to be th e p ro d u ctio n of Ibsen's plays and
u ltim a te ly th e p ro d u ctio n o f plays by A m erican p layw rights" (5). ^
I
j G arland's ad v o cacy o f Ibsen and his a ssista n c e to H erne m ade him th e
lo g ic a l ch o ice as th e p rim e m over o f th e F irs t Independent T h e a te r A ssociation
'of B oston, th e n atio n 's firs t fo rm al little th e a te r o rg an izatio n . The P ro sp ectu s
i
!of th e A sso ciatio n w as w ritte n by G arland and signed by H erne, H ow ells, Flow er,
bnd m any o th e r civic l e a d e r s .21 The A sso ciatio n even w ent so fa r as to
^commission an a rc h ite c t to design a sm all th e a te r. Even though th e poor,
re c e p tio n o f M arg aret F lem ing p re v e n ted th e A ssociation from forging ah ead ,
G arland saw to it th a t th e w ork o f B erlin's F re ie Buhne and P aris's T h e a te r
L ib re b ecam e known in th e U nited S ta te s . In d efatig ab le, G arland ra c e d around
jthe co u n try as th e p ro se ly te o f th e little th e a te r m ovem ent, even g e ttin g o ut
Jto C hicago in Ja n u a ry o f 1892 to m ake his p itc h . G arland's in n o vation w as to'
i ' ;
i
fo s te r th e d ev elo p m en t o f m odern A m erican d ra m a by developing an au d ien ce
i
fo r it. T hroughout his c a re r as a d ram a a c tiv is t alm o st a ll o f his en erg ies w ere
!
focused upon lo c atin g th a t sm aller seg m e n t o f th e public th a t would ap p reciatej
and fund "lite ra ry " d ra m a tic w orks. Though G arlan d 's a tte m p ts a t a p e rm a n e n t
little th e a te r failed , usually becau se o f his lack o f business acum en, he paved
th e w ay fo r fu tu re su ccessfu l v en tu res, as w hen in 1912 M aurice Brow n's Chicagoj
i
L ittle T h e a te r grew out o f G arland's C hicago T h e a te r S ociety. D onald P izer
observ es, "The b a ttle fo r an A m erican d ra m a and th e a te r w as la rg e ly fought'
and won along th e lines su g g ested by G arland" ("R ad ical D ram a" 230).
104]
l
G arland's a c tiv itie s as a d ram a re fo rm e r, or b e tte r put, as a m an who
w as try in g to in v en t A m erican d ram a, put him in c o n ta c t w ith such playw rights
as W illiam G ille tte , B ronson H ow ard, and A ugustus T hom as, a ll o f whom b ecam e
close frien d s and sh ared G arland's enth u siasm fo r Ibsen and Shaw . G arland
i
b ecam e, in e f f e c t, a clea rin g house fo r u p -to -d a te in fo rm atio n on th e m odern
dram a. Along th e se lines, G arland m ade it a po in t to e sta b lish connections
to th e leading a cad em ic c ritic s o f th e d ram a, few as th e y w ere a t th a t tim e .
None o f th e se w as m ore in flu e n tia l th a n B rander M atth ew s o f C olum bia U n iv ersity
jto whom G arland firs t w ro te on D ecem b er 29, 1889:
: I w an t to say how m uch I lik ed your candid and progressive
! essay in re c e n t M irro r. It is alm o st th e sam e plea w hich I m ade
! n o t long sin ce in L ite ra ry W orld and in T ra n s c rip t. I w ant also
j to call a tte n tio n to a play [D riftin g A part] soon to be seen in
New Y ork th a t has m any ad m irab le q u a litie s. . . . I should m uch
lik e to m e et you if you should com e to B oston and ta lk d ra m a tic
p rin cip les w ith you. T h ere a re so few o f us th a t w e should know
i each o th e r and be able to w ork to g e th e r fo r "A m ericanism in
A rt." (C olum bia U n iv ersity , B rander M atth ew s C o llectio n )
i
G arland and M atth ew s w ere to m e et and discuss d ra m a tic principles
i
fo r fo rty y ears u n til M atthew s died in 1929. G arlan d le t no o p p o rtu n ity pass,
I !
fo m ake use o f M atth ew s' grow ing p re stig e . When c ritic s ignored A rnold D aly's
production o f Shaw 's C an d id a, G arland w ro te his frien d : :
Did you see D aly's p ro d u ctio n o f "C andida"? It w as a
fine th in g —so m eth in g to be endorsed. I w ro te Shaw th a t—and
to ld him also th a t we hoped to see him ov er h e re soon. I think
he's th e c le v e re s t m an living. The play w as d elicio u sly stim u la tin g .
(25 D ec 1903 C olum bia)
!
i
T h ere w as also a young H arv ard stu d e n t and a c to r who took his;
I
b a c c a la u re a te in 1887 who b ecam e in fe c te d by th e e x c ite m e n t g e n e ra te d b y ;
I
^Garland and H erne. G eorge P ie rc e B aker did n o t m e e t G arland u n til m any y ears
la te r in New York, b u t w hen B aker re tu rn e d in 1905 to te a c h a t H arv ard his
le c tu re s echoed G arland:
W hat w e [A m ericans] need is th e skilled d ra m a tic p o rtra y a l of
life from a close study of it, plays good in c h a ra c te riz a tio n ,'
in p lo t, in dialogue, th a t sh all n o t, as a t p re se n t, assu m e th a t
only w hat is u n p leasan t is e sse n tia lly d ra m a tic and sh all tr e a t
th e u n p leasan t only as an in c id e n t, not as th e only in te re st- (qtd
in K inne 69)
G arland la te r would becom e close to B aker and assail him fo r th e plays
o f his m ost fam ous stu d e n t Eugene O 'N eill, who G arland b eliev ed tr e a te d th e
u n p leasan t as th e only in te re s t. W hatever d isag reem en t th e y m ay have had
o v er O 'N eill, th e re is no qu estio n th a t w hen B aker co n trib u te d such essays to
th e B oston Evening T ran sc rip t as "A Subsidized T h eater" (1902) and "The
A m e ric an S tage" (1907), he was re h e a rsin g th e m e s w hich G arland p re se n te d
|
jto its re a d e rs y ears b efo re.
*
So if by th e end o f 1892 G arland had n o t re a liz e d his p o w erfu l am b itio n
to becom e a pro fessio n al A m erican p lay w rig h t, th e re was no reaso n fo r him
I
to give up his d ream ju st y e t. As a re fo rm e r he had a lread y done th e th e a te r
a g re a t serv ice , and th e su ccess d 'estim e o f M ain-T ravelled R oads w as su re
t
jto p u t new o p p o rtu n ities in his p ath . E vidence o f th e re sp e c t a c c o rd e d him
as re a lism 's advance m an cam e in th e g re a t dem and fo r him as a le c tu re r. Funded
by B. O. F low er, G arland sp en t m uch o f 1892 on th e road stum ping fo r th e new
jPopulist P a rty w hose p re sid e n tia l can d id a te won ov er a m illion popular v o tes.
Such giddying su ccess only co n firm ed to G arlan d his own m a n ife st destin y as
I j
an E m ersonian p rie st o f ren ew al. S uccess on th e sta g e w as b u t a m a tte r of!
I
tim e. i
j
G arland m ight have th o u g h t th a t tim e n e a r w hen both H ow ells and the!
t
H ernes announced th e ir plans to m ove to New Y ork C ity . G arland followed!
i
them w ith high hopes and eig h t plays tu c k ed u n d er his arm . In th e w in te r o f
[1893 G arland took up q u a rte rs on 105th S tr e e t w ith his b ro th e r F ran k lin w ho’
106
w as now an e sta b lish e d m em b er o f H erne's com pany. G arland m ight th e n have
sc o ffe d had he been to ld he w as n ev er to have a play p ro duced on B roadw ay. !
107
NOTES TO CHAPTER THREE
1 This is th e te rm G arland uses in Son p.394. H erne’ s b io g rap h er, John
P erry , n o tes th e w arm frien d sh ip b etw een H erne and G arland, and how G arland
v o lu n te e red to be H erne's "unpaid, se lf-a p p o in te d p ress ag en t" (101). See PerryJ
Ja m e s A. H ern e: The A m erican Ibsen (C hicago, 1979).
2 F or th e ir disparaging co m m en ts, see B ernard D uffey, "H am lin G arland"|
in T he C hicago R en aissan ce in A m erican L e tte rs : A _ C ritic a l H isto ry (M ichigan
S ta te , 1956): 75-89, passim ; W arren F ren ch , "W hat Shall We Do A bout H am lin
jG arland?" A m erican L ite ra ry R ealism 3 (F all 1970): 283-89. j
I ^ F or th e full te x t o f th is le c tu re , and fu rth e r evidence o f G arland's
ev o lu tio n ary c ritic a l ap p ro ach to d ram a, see C h a p te r 7 below .
4 Zola a rtic u la te s his view o f th e n ovel as th e com prehensive m e ta -g e n re
in "N atu ralism in th e T h e a te r" (1881). P hilip B arnard stu d ied th e a tr ic a lity in
Zola's novels in "The N ovel on S tag e in N an a," MLA C onvention, New York,
27 D ecem b er 1986. i
5 I rely h e re on D onald P iz e r, "H erb ert S p en cer and th e G enesis o f H am lin
^Garland's C ritic a l S ystem ," C ritic a l Essays on H am lin G arland, ed. Ja m e s N agel
^B oston, 1982): 208-22. |
i 6 G arland su b seq u en tly w ro te an unpublished "happy ending" fo r th is
play w hich is b ib lio g rap h ically d escrib ed below in C h a p te r 9, e n try #214. |
j
i 7 F or th e te x t and my analysis of one o f G arland's le c tu re s on B ooth,
see C h a p te r 6 below .
j * This is a tra n s c rip tio n o f th e firs t a u to g rap h p o rtio n o f th e m anuscript.,
The b ra c k e ts a re G arland's. \
9 This p o rtio n of th e m an u scrip t is ty p e w ritte n a ll in c a p ita l le tte rs ,|
so I have re v e rte d to co n v en tio n al use o f u p p e r/lo w e r c ase . I have also inserted;
p a re n th e se s around th e one s ta g e d ire c tio n , and th e w ord "not" is c o rre c te d
from "no." As G arland's film biography show s, he was a h u n t-an d -p eck ty p ist
who n ev er le arn ed to to u c h -ty p e . His ty p e sc rip ts a re re p le te w ith e rro rs.
10 G arland's novel o f a young w om an from th e farm who com es to C hicago
in th e e a rly 1890's to m ake h e r own w ay should be co m p ared to D reiser's
tre a tm e n t o f th e sam e su b jec t in S iste r C a rrie (1900). D reiser also found o ut
how few people w ere w illing to buy such a sto ry .
11 See P iz e r, "The R ad ical D ram a in B oston 1889-1891"; and P erry ,
Ja m e s A. H erne.
12 F o r an e d ite d version o f G arland's m an u scrip t and a m ore co m p lete
discussion o f th e novel's com position see D onald P iz e r, "The R ise o f B oom tow n:
An U npublished D akota N ovel by H am lin G arlan d ," South D akota H isto ric al
C o llectio n s 28 (1956): 345-89.
108
In a l e tte r to W alt W hitm an in Ju n e 1889, G arland in fo rm ed th e
p o e t, "I am also w ritin g d ram as—my fo u rth and la s t is p raised by p ra c tic a l
m an ag ers and lite ra ry c ritic s ." A ccording to my c alc u la tio n s th is "fo u rth " playj
w as indeed U nder th e W heel and th e " p ra c tic a l m an ag er" had to have b een Jam es
A. H erne. F or th is l e tte r and o th e rs, see K enneth M. P rice and R o b e rt C. L e itz ,1
III, "The U n co llected L e tte rs o f H am lin G arland to W alt W hitm an" in Walt'
W hitm an Q u arterly R eview 5 (W inter 1988); 1-13. ;
1^ The p o rtio n s o f th e m an u scrip t w ritte n by K ath erin e seem to have'
been h a stily scraw led and she usually ran s ta g e d ire c tio n s and dialogue to g e th e r,
pro v id in g no d istin c tio n s b e tw ee n th e tw o. As a co n v en ien ce, I have placed
‘ b ra c k e ts around h er s ta g e d ire c tio n s. I hold to th is p ra c tic e in all q u o tatio n s
Ifrom h e r p a rt o f th e p la y sc rip t.
I
13 H ow ells e v en tu a lly finished a tr e a tm e n t o f Lapham w ith his cousin
P aul K e ste r, but th e play w as n ev er p erfo rm ed . In 1919 L illian Sabine did finally!
s ta g e an a d a p ta tio n o f th e novel w hich G arland saw and ra th e r enjoyed. See
jw a lte r M eserve's in tro d u c tio n to H ow ells’s p la y sc rip t o f Lapham in The C o m p lete
jPlays, 481-83. j
| 1® On to p o f all th is, scen ario s fo r tw o o th e r plays can be found in’
'G arland's notebooks: "M ajor Soosa" (#31 "F all ’92") and "The School-M aster"j
(#32 "W inter 1892-93"). j
; I
| I 7 C h a p te r re fe re n c e s a re from th e te x t o f A . M odern Instance^
.established by D avid J . N ordloh and D avid K leinm an, A _ S e le c te d E dition ofj
W illiam D ean H ow ells vol 10 (Indiana, 1977). j
| I® It was published as a novel by F. J . S ch u lte o f C hicago in 1892. See'
jpizer, "The R ad ical D ram a," 226-27. j
I® E ighteen y e ars la te r G arland took th e p rem ise o f "R adburn W rites,
a Play" and tu rn e d i t into a novel, The L ight of th e S ta r (1904), in w hich a;
play w rig h t finds love and fam e by selling his play to a s ta r a c tre s s .
20 Shaw's The Q u in tessan ce o f Ibsenism w as firs t published in London
in Ju n e o f 1891 b u t did not a p p ea r in A m erica u n til 1908. H ow ells o f course;
knew Ibsen's w ork w ell b u t his published co m m en t, "The Ibsen In flu en ce," ap p eared
in H arp er's W eekly on A pril 27, 1895, long a f te r G arland's.
21 F or th e te x t o f th is P ro sp ectu s see L ars A hnebrink, The B eginnings!
of N atu ralism in A m erican F ictio n (H arvard, 1950): 451-53.
109
CHAPTER FOUR
I
LOST IN A NORTHER: GARLAND'S WILDERNESS YEARS
1893-1916
A t th e o u tse t o f G arland's p ro fessio n al w ritin g c a re e r, H arp er's W eekly’
paid G arland tw e n ty -fiv e d o llars fo r his poem , "L ost in a N o rth er," w hich ap p eared
in D ecem b er 1887. This w as one o f a series o f lo c a l color p ie ce s draw n from
I
ms days ten d in g an o u tp o st supply s to re on th e lonely D ak o ta p ra irie . In th is i
l
poem G arland d escrib es being cau g h t o u t on "th e grassy w aste" on his horse
i
as a snow storm com es in and cau ses him to lose his bearin g s. The icy n o rth
I
w ind sounds "voices o f p ain/In th e au tu m n ra in ." The sp eak er in th e poem can
find no w ords po w erfu l enough to evoke "th e h ell o f fre n z ie d th o u g h ts th a t
ag e-lo n g night!" In th is poem G arland provides his own m etap h o r fo r the!
tw e n ty -th re e y ears b etw een th e day he le f t New Y ork fo r C hicago in th e spring
o f 1893 and th e day he fin ally re tu rn e d to live th e re in th e spring o f 1916. D uring
th e in terv en in g y ears he w as q u ite lite ra lly lo st in a n o rth e r. From th e m om ent
I ,
jGarland le f t New Y ork he reco g n ized th a t a p ro fessio n al w rite r's v ery sense
o f id e n tity depended upon a c c e p ta n c e th e re . His problem all th e se y ears was,
th a t he w as n ev er q u ite su re a b o u t th e w ay back to th e lite ra ry c a p ita l o f th e
j
U n ited S ta te s.
I th e re fo re propose a rev isio n o f th e cu sto m ary view th a t G arland's)
i
c a r e e r as a re a list e x ten d ed through his m ove to C hicago and cu lm in ated withj
th e p u b licatio n in C hicago o f C rum bling Idols (1894) and R ose o f D u tch er's Coolyi
i
j(l895). All th re e o f G arland's b io g rap h ers, P iz e r, H ollow ay, and M ane, and!
m o st o th e r c ritic s as w ell, a g ree th a t G arland's c a re e r divides in to th re e d istin c t'
I
periods: realism (1887-1895), ro m an ce (1896-1916), and auto b io g rap h y (1917-1940).
I have trie d to avoid c astin g G arland's c a re e r in th e se lite ra ry g e n e ric c a te g o rie s
- - - 1 1 0 l
th a t a re a t b e st only a p p ro x im ate. In placing th e lin e o f d e m a rc a tio n a t 1 8 9 3 j
I
w hen G arland le f t New Y ork, ra th e r th an 1895 w hen he published his la st
j
^ re a listic " w ork, I am doing tw o things: 1) D eem phasizing realism as a basis
i |
j
■for in te rp re tin g GarlancPs c a re e r, since I see G arland p rim arily as a|
m e lo d ra m a tist. 2) P rivileging a p sy ch o-social m odel o v er a purely lite ra ry one'
i
j I
jfor ev alu atin g G arland's d ev elo p m en t as a w rite r. Since G arland w as prim arily'
m o tiv a te d by a drive to w ard a public id e n tity , his d e p a rtu re from New Y ork
I i
beco m es m ore sig n ific a n t th a n his supposed d e p a rtu re from realism .
| I do not b eliev e th a t G arland m oved to C hicago p rim arily o ut o f his
jdesire to be clo ser to th e m a te ria ls o f his lo cal co lo r fic tio n . Nor do I believe
th a t G arland e v er re a lly had his h e a rt in lead in g a c u ltu ra l ren aissan ce in
i ^ ;
C hicago—q u ite to th e c o n tra ry , G arland d e te s te d th e c ity and o fte n said so.,
N or did G arland's tu rn in g to th e F ar W est as th e so u rce o f a sp a te o f ro m a n c e s1
i
re p re se n t a change in his fu n d am en tal lite ra ry prin cip les and p ra c tic e s. All
th e se th ings m ay be tru e to som e d eg ree but th e y do n ot g e t a t w hat I believe
w as G arland's bedrock psychological m o tiv atio n fo r his d e p a rtu re from New,
Fork and his sub seq u en t a c tiv itie s: know ing he could n o t quickly or easily win
a p ro fessio n al id e n tity in New Y ork C ity , y e t know ing also th a t New Y ork w as
I
the only c ity th a t m ade such an id e n tity possible, G arland le f t for th e provinces i
to c o n stru c t m ore quickly a lite ra ry id e n tity th a t could be im p o rted read y -m ad e
to New Y ork. G arland's e rro r w as th a t due in p a rt to his sizab le ego hei
I
u n d e re stim a te d th e d iffic u lty and th e tim e it would ta k e b efo re he could re tu rn
jto New Y ork w ith a n am e. Thus G arland sp en t th e y ears 1893-1916 o u tsid e
New Y ork C ity in an "ag e-lo n g n ight" in w hich he w as unable to m ake a nam e
fo r h im self, and th e re fo re w as unable to re tu rn . When he did finally re tu rn ,;
it w as as a h as-b een , a m an a t th e lo w est point o f his life com ing h a t-in -h a n d
I l l
to seek a publisher fo r a series o f m em oirs w hich had been running in C olliers'
sin ce 1914 as "A Son o f th e M iddle B order."
*
G arland h im self m ade it q u ite c le a r th a t it w as New Y ork n o t th e Middle'
I
B order which consum ed him . S hortly b e fo re he m oved back to New Y ork, G arland
| i
confessed to his diary on D ecem b er 16, 1915: "I begin to fe e l alien to Chicagoj
and all its in te re sts. I begin to see th a t I m ade th e b e st o f a bad b arg ain all
th e se y ears. It is a cold, b leak , dism al p la ce to m e now" (P ize r D iaries 20).
The use o f th e w ord "bargain" is p a rtic u la rly a p t in re fe rrin g to C h icag o w hose
p henom enal g row th to a c ity o f tw o m illion by 1910 cam e from co m m e rce .
I
H ere G arlan d im p licitly acknow ledges th a t a ll along he w as using C hicago in
a sim ila r m anner to th e m e at packing houses like A rm our and S w ift. J u st as
I i
such com panies and m any o th e rs used C h icag o as th e link b e tw ee n th e raw
I ;
m a te ria ls of th e W est and th e consum ers o f th e E ast, G arland fan n ed o u t all
i
th ro u g h th e W est for new lite ra ry m a te ria l, b ro u g h t it back to C h icag o w here
he quickly p ackaged it, and shipped it o ff to New Y ork fo r consum ption. By
m oving o u t to C hicago, G arland w as ex ercisin g w h at he fe lt to be his exclusive
licen se to im p o rt W estern lite ra tu re to New Y ork. In th e p arlan ce o f ad v ertisin g ,
G arland sought to e sta b lish "v eritism " as a brand id e n tity fo r H am lin G arlan d . j
i
I
This should n o t be ta k e n to m ean th a t during th is perio d G arlan d w as
grossly av aricio u s or consciously m an ip u lativ e. Too m any have ex p lain ed aw ay
j |
G arland's tu rn in g to th e F a r W est fo r th e s e ttin g o f his series o f ro m an ces asj
th e re su lt o f G arland's drive for fin a n c ial s e c u rity fo r his fam ily , alm o st asj
if m id d le-class A m erican s' p u rsu it o f c o m fo rt should be held as som e kind o f 1
c rim e. G arland's life during th e period 1893-1916 can n o t be so conveniently!
dism issed, for his a c tiv itie s as a p lay w rig h t and d ram a re fo rm e r, as w ell as
112j
his c a re e r as a ro m a n c ier o f th e W est, co n tin u ed to be m o tiv a te d out o f genuine
and long-held id ealism . In su g g esting G arlan d ’s lite ra ry a c tiv ity in C hicago
i
w as analogous to th e c ity 's business a c tiv ity , I see k n o t to red u ce G arland to
a m oney-grubber—would th a t th e problem w ere so sim p le—b ut ra th e r to suggest
his o v erarch in g subconscious d esire to c o n stru c t a u n ified p erso n al id e n tity .1
G arland h im self calls a tte n tio n th a t his sense o f id e n tity was a wholly so cial
c o n stru c t w hich could be c o n stitu te d only in New Y ork C ity: '
In sh o rt New Y ork allu re d m e as London allu res th e w rite rs
o f England, and as P aris a ttr a c ts th e a r tis ts o f E urope. It w as
my lite ra ry c a p ita l. T h e o re tic ally I belonged to W isconsin, as
H ardy belonged to W essex or B arrie to S cotland, a c tu a lly my
h ap p iest hom e w as a d ja c e n t to M adison Square. Only as I n e ared
i th e publishing c e n te rs did I fe e l th e slig h te st co n fid en ce in th e
I fu tu re . This in creased sense o f im p o rta n c e m ay have b een based
! upon an illusion but it w as a v ery re a l em o tio n n e v e rth e le ss.
1 (D au g h ter 263)
I J
[ For G arland, id e n tity w as alw ays a m a tte r o f ’I am who you say I a m .’
;For a w rite r in tu rn -o f-th e -c e n tu ry A m erica, as H enry Ja m e s com plained, New'
Y ork w as th e locus fo r th e p erso n al ap p ea ra n ce s, in te rv ie w s, and read in g s w hich
b ecam e a n e ce ssa ry p a rt o f public au th o rsh ip . T h at is to say, only in New Y ork
|was G arland visible as a w rite r; o u tsid e M an h attan he ceased to e x ist. In.
I 1
'R eco n stru ctin g A m erican L ite ra ry H istory (1986), Philip F ish er em phasizes!
|
th a t th e co n cep t o f conspicuousness, as fo r in sta n c e in th e w ay Tw ain would
w alk down B roadw ay w ith his sealskin c o a t fu r-sid e o u t, w as th e c o rn ersto n e
o f a r tis tic id e n tity in an ag e w hich T h o rstein V eblen c h a ra c te riz e d in T he T heory
of th e L eisure C lass (1899) as one o f "conspicuous consum ption." F ish er s ta te s :
We m ight d escrib e th e y ears b e tw ee n 1890 and 1910 as a series
o f e x p erim en ts in th e m odeling o f a highly visible s tru c tu re o f
id e n tity under th e new c irc u m sta n c e s o f conspicuous p e rfo rm an c e.
("A ppearing and D isappearing in P ublic" 164)
Why th en did G arland leav e New Y ork fo r C hicago a t all, as he did in
May of 1893? T h ere a re tw o c h ief reasons w hich p re se n t th em selv es in lig h t
113
of G arland's continuing a tte m p ts a t p layw righting. The firs t, s ta te d bluntly,
is th a t as a p layw right in New Y ork, G arland w as a m in o r-leag u e ta le n t in a
i '
jm ajor-league c ity . S ta te d m ore kindly, G arland could not have fa ile d to p e rc eiv e 1
, i
ias an avid th e a te rg o e r th a t his ty p e o f q u iet w holesom e d ram a o f th e av erag e
! j
m an did n ot f it th e m a rk e t. A fte r all, H erne was no m ore su cc e ssfu l w ith 1
!
M arg aret Flem ing in New Y ork th a n he w as in B oston. G arland could n o t be1
fa u lte d fo r w anting to te s t his plays in m a rk e ts like C hicago w here he presum ed
th e re w ere m ore o f his kind o f people. To G arland it m ight have seem ed th e
b e tte r p a rt o f valor to sc o re a success in C hicago and th en com e w ith it to
New Y ork as a reco g n izab le e n tity ra th e r th an as an unknown su p p lican t. |
t
The second m ajor reaso n why G arland le f t B roadw ay is th a t he d isco v ered
beyond q u estion th a t he w as d istin c tly u n c o m fo rta b le in New Y ork's th e a tric a l
i
m ilieu. G arland saw it as peopled by cy n ical m anagers and flesh -p ed d lin g agents'
who s ifte d thro u g h th e hum an flo tsam th a t w ashed up on M an h attan 's shoresj
i
hoping fo r stard o m . And if G arland's opinion w as d e term in e d by his inherited;
p u ritan ism , it w as a t le a s t based on a g re a t d e al o f first-h a n d e x p erien c e . G arlandj
sp en t m any o f his evenings a t th e th e a te r , and his acc e ss to H ern e's com pany
p rovided him a thorough a cq u a in ta n c e w ith th e b a ck sta g e.
G arland's av ersio n to th e B ohem ian e x iste n c e o f New Y ork's a rtis tic
com m u n ity w as w ell re fle c te d in his rela tio n sh ip w ith S tephen C ran e, whom
he once m et o u tsid e a s ta g e door to lend C ran e fifte e n d o llars to g e t th e
m an u scrip t o f The R ed Badge o f C o urage o u t o f hock. G arland eu p h em istically
re fe rre d to C ran e's life in an a r tis ts ' re sid en c e in G reenw ich V illage as
"unw holesom e." A lthough G arland d eep ly ad m ired C ran e's w ork and gave him
g en ero u s a ssista n c e , G arland fe lt th a t if C ran e re p re se n te d th e a v a n t-g a rd e
o f A m erican m odernism he w as not going to fit in. F a rth e r uptow n, New Y ork's
— ___
senior positions o f lite ra ry resp o n sib ility w ere a lre a d y solidly filled by H ow ells
i
of H arp er's and R ich ard W atson G ilder of C e n tu ry , As a re su lt, G arland soon1
d isco v ered th a t a p o sitio n in New Y ork, e sp e c ially as a p lay w rig h t and th eater,
re fo rm e r, was not easily won.
Thus in th e sp rin g o f 1893 a t th e ag e o f th ir ty -th re e —during a tim e
when m ale life e x p e c ta n c y w as fo rty -se v e n y e a rs—G arland sought a less
c o m p etitiv e m a rk e t. He w as provided w ith a w o nderful p re te x t fo r m oving
jto C hicago by th e g re a t W orld's C olum bian E xposition. In 1893 it seem ed as
I
if th e w hole w orld w as going to C hicago. G arlan d joined th e stam p ed e . He
had reaso n to be c o n fid en t th a t th e M idw est w ould open its arm s to one o f its
|own who bore th e im p rim atu r o f th e E a stern lite ra ry esta b lish m e n t. G arland
i . i
.was to be disap p o in ted .
I.
i A S u r v e y o f t h e D r a m a C a r e e r
I
H ere G arland's d ram a c a re e r fo r th e y e ars 1893-1916 w ill firs t be
p resented in o u tlin e b e fo re pro ceed in g to m ore d e ta ile d discussions o f individual
plays and ev en ts. D uring th e se y ears in w hich he m ain tain ed an ad d ress in
C hicago, G arland's d ram a c a re e r w as clo sely co n n ec te d to his w ork as a n o v elist
and so cial re fo rm e r.
F or th e firs t tw o y ears u n til 1895 G arlan d u n d erstan d ab ly played to
i
his re p u ta tio n as a re a lis t and produced a volum e o f p o n tific a tio n s entitled^
Icrum bling Idols (1894). K a te C hopin's rev iew o f th e book w as one o f th e kinder'
I I
ones in noting, "th e a u th o r has sounded a tru e n o te if not a new one" (693). In
o th e r q u a rte rs, G arland w as a tta c k e d fo r his p resum ptuous m an ifesto th a t
p re a ch e d "em an cip atio n from S h ak esp eare, or S c o tt, or Hugo" (Idols 89). The
c o n tro v ersy o v er G arland's grandiose prophecies fo r A m erican lite r a tu r e d istu rb ed
!
G arland, but it did s tim u la te a w ide c irc u la tio n fo r a book w hich included two!
essays on th e d ram a, "The D rift o f D ram a" and "The Influence o f Ibsen." T hese
h elp ed to confirm G arland as an in fo rm ed a rb ite r o f stan d a rd s fo r d ra m a tic
lite ra tu re .
When his b e st novel, R ose o f D u tc h er's C oolly w as issued in 1895 and
re c e iv e d a h o stile re a c tio n fo r its e a rth y p o rtra y a l o f an in d ep en d en t young'
w om an, G arland w as given a ll th e ex cu se he n eed ed to tu rn to th e "M ountain1
W est." As a re fo rm e r G arland's im ag in atio n w as s tirre d by sce n e ry th a t u p lifted
th e sp irit as w ell as by a group o f A m ericans who cried o u t fo r a c h ro n icler
and a cham pion—th e A m erican Indian. A lthough he w as d is tra c te d fo r th e b e tte r
p a rt o f tw o y ears in d ischarging a com m ission to w rite a biography o f U lysses
S. G ra n t, G arland se t up shop as th e p rin c ip a l supplier to th e E ast o f serious
lite r a tu r e on th e A m erican Indian. Four novels s e t in th e F a r W est w ere follow ed
by tw o huge h its th a t sold 100,000 copies and 50,000 copies re sp e c tiv e ly : The;
| f
C a p ta in o f th e G ray-H orse Troop (1902) and H esper (1903). H aving fin ally won
a n am e fo r h im self, G arland tu rn ed five o f his w orks in to plays and m arch ed
in to New Y ork read y to re fo rm B roadw ay. So full o f success w as G arlan d that!
I 1
■ in 1904 he w ro te a novel o f th e th e a te r , The L ight o f th e S ta r , w hich also
a p p ea re d in L adies Hom e Jo u rn a l from Ja n u a ry to May. In th is n o v el G arland
I
o ffers th e triu m p h of a "re a list" p lay w rig h t who m anages to in te re s t a star)
i
i
a c tre s s in his play ab o u t a young g irl involved in a m ining cam p (th e p lot o f
L lesper). The play beco m es a long-running h it th e re b y re le asin g th e g rip held
| i
upon B roadw ay by g reed y sta g e m an ag ers, and o f course, th e p lay w rig h t and
th e a c tre s s fall in love. As such, The L ight o f th e S ta r stan d s as G arlan d 's fa n ta sy
of re fo rm in g th e New Y ork th e a te r and it is in essen ce a len g th y c ritic a l treatise^
on his philosophy o f th e w holesom e d ram a o f n o rm al life ra th e r th an a novel. >
But by th e tim e The L ight o f th e S ta r w as issued as a book in 1904,
G arland's fa n ta sy had s till not com e tru e . T h ere w ere no ta k e rs fo r his plays
and th e a p p e tite fo r W esterns w as being s a tisfie d by th e lik es o f Owen W ister's
i I
,The V irginian (1902). (W ister w as y e t a n o th er frien d and fellow club member!
|of G arland's.) G arland le f t New Y ork u tte rly d e je c te d . He had failed to
jcap italize on his b e st-se llin g novels by tu rn in g th em in to plays, and he w as fo rced
Ito re tu rn to C hicago b e re ft o f fu rth e r ideas fo r how he m ight win fam e in New;
|
jYork.
i
i !
j It is th u s no su rp rise th a t th e re should be a la rg e gap fo r th e years'
i
1905-1907 in G arland's au to b io g rap h y . T hese y e ars w ere sp en t in desultoryj
, I
{wandering fo r new m a te ria l. G arland w as so ra re ly hom e w ith his w ife and
!
1 I
^daughter th a t H ow ells once scolded him fo r being aw ay so m uch, advising th a t
["family is b e st so ciety " (20 D ec 1904 #2255). G arland o fte n indulged his in te re s t
jin psychic phenom ena during periods of despondency, and th e title o f his
'in v estig atio n in to s p iritu a l m edium s, The T yranny o f th e D ark (1905), speaks
|
{plainly of G arland's lonely fru stra tio n a t th is tim e . When an o th er W estern,
{Money M agic (1907), re c e iv e d a lukew arm re c e p tio n , G arland w as a t his w it's
end as to how to p ro ceed w ith his c a re e r.
The b irth o f a second d au g h ter in Ju n e 1907 fo rc e d G arland to s ta y
i
p u t in C hicago. It follow s th a t in seek in g to re a ssem b le som e sense o f p ersonal
id e n tity , G arland should tr y to re s u rre c t his halcyon days in B oston as a civic
re fo rm e r. Since he could n o t resid e nor su cceed in New Y ork, he finally decided
a f te r fo u rte e n y e ars to m ake a c o n c e rte d e f f o r t to tra n sp la n t New Y ork to
C hicago:
N ot c o n te n t w ith e sth e tic conditions and in th e b e lie f th a t my
hom e for y ears to com e m ust be so m ew h ere in [C hicago's] confines,
I had reso lv ed to estab lish a C lub w hich should be (like th e P lay ers
117
in New York) a m e etin g p la ce fo r a rtis ts and w rite rs, a rally in g
point fo r M idland A rts. (D au g h ter 326)
G arland w as in good position to su cc e ed a t th is o rg a n iz a tio n a l a tte m p t,
|Which soon became alm ost entirely focused upon the drama. In addition to!
d ra m a tiz in g his W esterns, G arland had o f course k ep t a c tiv e in th e d ram a as
I I
a le c tu re r . F or exam ple, under th e au sp ices o f his frien d , W illiam Vaughn Moody,;
G arland w as in v ited to th e U n iv ersity of C hicago to give a series o f lectures!
on Edw ard B ooth during th e su m m er o f 1903. S ev eral tim e s w hen he w as in
N ew Y ork G arland ad d ressed th e D ram a L eague, and w hen o u t in th e provinces,
G arlan d o fte n d eliv ered his sta n d a rd stu m p sp eech th a t stre sse d th e im p o rtan c e
o f estab lish in g lo c al th e a te r groups. The m an u scrip t o f one o f th e se le c tu re s
j ;
is e n title d "The C o u n try T h e a te r and V illage P ag ean t" (#377). In it G arlan d
n o te s how su ccessfu l com m unity th e a te rs in M adison, W isconsin, P e te rb o ro ,
N ew H am pshire, and F arg o , N orth D ak o ta, "help to m ake th e farm and village
!
less hopelessly dull . . . ." O f even g re a te r in te re s t is G arland's ad vocacy "of
(
a form o f play w here c h a ra c te r and sto ry w ould m ake scen ery and co stu m e
e n tire ly su b o rd in ate so th a t th e a c tio n could ta k e p lace a g a in st a b a re wall;
| i
or on a sim ple p la tfo rm ." In c arry in g th is c o n ce p t to th e h in te rla n d s, G arlandj
i :
w as a n tic ip a tin g th e kind o f s ta g e p ro d u ctio n T h ornton W ilder m ade fam ous
in O ur Town (1938). :
It is sig n ific a n t th a t G arland trie d to w ork h im self o u t o f his dorm ancy
of 1905-07 by spending m uch o f 1908 w orking on a play, M iller o f B oscobel.
1
This lab o r re fo rm play w as a re p rise o f G arland's B oston days as a "rad ical,"
and in d eed th e play had its genesis in G arland's re a c tio n to th e H o m estead S trike
o f 1892.1 n is one c f th e le sse r known but n o n eth eless a c u te ironies o f G arland's
c a r e e r th a t during a p eriod in w hich he supposedly abandoned re a lism , he should
fin ally have a play p ro duced on sta g e th a t w as o f p recisely th e sam e vintage^
118 ]
I
as U nder th e W heel (1890). When th e firs t p e rfo rm a n c e of M iller w as given
in M adison, W isconsin on Jan u a ry 29, 1909, G arlan d re a liz e d a dream he had
I
held fo r tw e n ty -fiv e y e a rs since going to B oston in 1884. But G arland's sense'
of sa tisfa c tio n w as sh o rt-liv ed . When M iller o pened in C hicago on F e b ru a ry 3 ,1
|
1909, it closed in one n ig h t, th e c ritic s having condem ned it as dull. G arland
w ro te in his diary: "This w hole p lay -w ritin g episode w as foolish and o f no
i
consequence e x c e p t to show th a t I could be draw n in to it" (qtd in E arley 24). !
The fa ilu re o f his play le f t G arland a rtis tic a lly d e s titu te . H e had no
re c o u rse b u t to cran k out a n o th e r W estern, C avanaugh F o re st R an g er (1910),
w hich w as n o t up to th e sta n d a rd o f his previous W esterns o f 1902 and 1903.
W orse th an re je c tio n , C avanaugh w as m et w ith in d iffe re n c e by rev iew ers. The
i
j
■year 1910 w as th e d a rk e st hour so fa r in G arland's "ag e-lo n g night." He tu rn e d
to his clo sest C hicago frien d H enry F u ller in d esp air: " 'I sh all n ev er do a n o th e r
book. . . . I'm done. I am o u t o f com m ission' " (D au g h ter 347).
| W illiam D ean H ow ells also reco g n ized th a t his fo rm er p ro te g e w as lo st
in a n o rth e r. A fte r read in g C avanaugh, H ow ells w ro te G arland and m ade an
a tte m p t to snap him o u t o f his leth arg y :
i
O ne day, I hope you w ill re v e rt to th e te m p e r of your firs t w ork,
and give us a p ic tu re o f th e w ild life you know so w ell in th e'
lines of "M ain T rav elled R oads." You have in you g re a te r things]
th an you have done, and you ow e th e w orld w hich has w elcom ed
you th e b e st you have in you. "Be tr u e to th e d ream s o f th y
youth"—th e d ream o f an ab so lu te and unsparing "v eritism "; the;
w orld is yours. (27 M ar 1910 #2255) I
To G arland, th en fifty y e ars old, H ow ells's le tte r am o u n ted to a,
rep rim an d . G arland's rep ly shows his feelin g s w ere h u rt. Y et, w h e th er it can;
I
be a ttrib u te d to H ow ells's prodding o r n o t, th e fa c t rem ain s th a t G arland alm ost;
i
im m ed iately launched h im self once m ore in to pursuing th e fo n d est d ream ofi
his yo u th , th e re fo rm o f th e th e a te r. F or tw o y e a rs, 1911-13, G arland poured
119
his en erg ies in to The C hicago T h e a te r S o ciety w ith a vigor th a t w as fev erish
even by G arland's sta n d a rd s. !
No C hicago lite ra ry m an w as m ore fa m ilia r w ith th e A m erican d ra m a
jthan H am lin G arland, so w hen he c alled fo r th e e sta b lish m e n t o f The Chicago!
T h e a te r S o ciety , w hich w ould find and pro d u ce A m erican plays, he w as taken!
i
q u ite seriously. Soon G arlan d had p u t to g e th e r an im pressive group o f sponsors
.that included Ja n e A ddam s, w hose Hull H ouse P lay ers had long been producing
a d a p ta tio n s o f G arland's sh o rt sto rie s; A ugustus T hom as, th e v e n e ra te d
| i
p lay w rig h t; D onald R o b ertso n , th e New Y ork p ro d u cer who had sta g e d G arlan d 's1
I
i
I 5
M iller o f B oscobel; and o f co u rse H enry F u ller. W ith th e fin a n c ial b acking o f
[civic le a d e rs A rth u r B issell and M rs. H arold M cC orm ick, G arland e n te re d into
(
n e g o tia tio n s w ith no less a pow er th an th e S h u b ert Bros, o rg a n iz atio n to produce
Ih e opening season o f 1911-12. By A ugust o f 1911 G arland had stru c k a d e al1
j i
and w as assuring L ee S h u b ert, "th e C h icag o T h e a te r S o ciety w ill do e v ery th in g
in its pow er in th e w ay of le c tu re s , a d v ertisin g , e tc ., to m ake th e tr ia l season
a v ery b rillia n t success" (18 Aug 1911 #3496). i
G arland w as as good as his w ord and soon th e C hicago p ap ers w ere fu ll:
o f a cc o u n ts o f th e "new th e a te r." Even The N ation d u tifu lly re p o rte d how!
G arland's g o al w as to o ffe r a seaso n o f "joyous dram a" th a t w ould "w ean the!
A m erican people aw ay from th e p u e rilitie s o f th e m usical 'show ' " (Ju ly 13,
1911 p. 41). N a tu ra lly it w as G arland who to o k th e in itia tiv e in giving le c tu re s
p ublicizing th e S o ciety . In New Y ork on th e o ccasion o f a te stim o n ia l d inner
jfor th e a c tre s s M innie M addern F iske, who had m ade a g re a t su ccess in Edwardj
Sheldon's S alv atio n N ell (1908), G arland ad d ressed th e D ram a L eague and o ffe re d
|
a co n cise d e scrip tio n o f The C hicago T h e a te r S ociety:
P erhaps I can c le a r aw ay c e rta in m isco n cep tio n s by saying,
a t th e o u ts e t th a t w e a re n o t a new th e a te r no r an endow ed|
1 2 0
th e a te r . We a re n o t a th e a te r a t a ll—we a re a so cie ty w ith pow er
to o ffe r p a tro n s fo r plays, g u a ra n te e th e season of any p lay ers
o r com pany of play ers or do any o th e r business w hich w ill c a rr^
o u t th e g e n eral purpose ex p ressed by our c o n stitu tio n . . . . We
h a v en 't any m oney—not re a l m oney b u t we have a co n sid erab le
fund w hich we a re to use th is seaso n in g u a ra n tee in g a te n w eeks
seaso n o rg an ized by D onald R o b ertso n and m anaged and fin an ced
by th e S h u b erts.
The a rra n g e m e n t is v ery sim p le. We say to Mr. S hubert
if you w ill b rin g to us te n plays s e le c te d by us and produce th em
s a tis fa c to ry to our d ire c to rs we w ill g u a ra n te e th a t your gross'
re c e ip ts w ill be so and so. The D ram a P lay ers [who w ill p erfo rm
th e plays] a re n ot our com pany. T hey a re a S hu b ert com pany
b u t th e plays th e y a re to play in C h icag o have been chosen by
our c o m m itte e —and th is is w here you and I beco m e in te re s te d —or
should do so, for we a re to do a t le a s t th re e A m erican plays
th is y e a r and I hope te n n ex t y e a r. And th is is th e v ita l m atter!
w hich I would lik e to have you discuss w ith m e. I am esp ecially
in te re s te d in raisin g th e lite ra ry q u a lity o f our d ra m a tic w ritin g
and hope th a t our w ork w hich su p p lem en ts th e [New York] D ram a
L eague w ill profoundly a f f e c t th e A m erican d ra m a tis t by furnishing
i him an o u tle t fo r his h ig h est w ork.
Don’t th in k th a t we a re a t w ar w ith th e te n c e n t th e a te r,'
th e m usic hall or th e re g u la r th e a te r —our w ork is supplem ental.!
We b eliev e th e re is a public w hose w an ts a re n o t m e t by th e :
s ta g e a s it is to d ay —and fu rth e rm o re I believ e th e re a re
play w rig h ts w hose b e st w ork, w hose "d ream s"—n ot to say th e ir
m ost asp irin g plans—a re n ev er em bodied in th e sta g e . It is our
j wish th a t p lays w ritte n fo r a rts sak e should com e to us for,
i co n sid e ra tio n . (#583)2
These co m m en ts show th a t G arland had grow n w iser in his e ffo rts to!
c re a te a tru ly A m erican little th e a te r . He s till w as using th e inn o v ativ e approach,;
t
sin ce p e rfe c te d by to d ay 's n etw o rk o f su b sc rib e r-su p p o rte d reg io n al th e a te rs ,
o f c o n c e n tra tin g on lo c a tin g a reg u lar au d ien ce fo r his program o f plays. R a th e r
jthan ad ju st his play sele c tio n s to an ex istin g au d ien ce, G arland in e f f e c t soughtj
to c re a te a new au d ien ce. But th e d iffe re n c e b e tw ee n th is a tte m p t and G arland's
e a rlie r fa ilu re w ith th e F irs t Independent T h e a te r A ssociation o f B oston was
th a t G arland le t go o f his in sisten c e th a t th e e n tire program co n sist o f A m erican 1
plays. G arland w as sim ply facin g up to th e p ra c tic a l m a tte r th a t by 1911 th e re
w ere still few A m erican plays in th e e sta b lish e d re p e rto ry . Thus G arland w as
iwilling to a c know ledge th a t he would have to include classic B ritish and E uropean
1 2 1
w orks in o rd er to a t t r a c t enough in te re s t in th e S o ciety . W ith re s p e c t to
j
n o n -A m erican plays, G arland p u t to g e th e r a stro n g m odern program th a t re fle c te d
p o com prom ise in lite ra ry m e rit: Ibsen, Shaw , Synge, A rnold B en n ett, G alsw o rth y ,1
G ran v ille-B ark er, and P inero.
■ For th e A m erican p a rt o f th e bill, G arlan d had s e ttle d on M oody's T he
j I
iFaith H ealer and had A ugustus T hom as's A lab am a. The th ird s e le c tio n w as
m ore d iffic u lt and G arlan d trie d tw o m eth o d s o f developing a play . F irst he
so lic ite d G eorge A de, who w as in te re ste d . Though A de had a "few littl e plays
in o u tlin e," he "could not prom ise to g e t th e m read y , very soon" (15 Nov 1911 !
I
I
#809). G arland gave up on Ade and he th e n issued a call fo r new p la y s~ a n d
I
I
th e y c am e pouring in from all o v er th e c o u n try , including an u n id e n tifie d s c rip t
j
from U pton S in clair. E ventually th e S o ciety s e ttle d on The M ate rn a l In stin c t
I
t
by R o b ert H errick . 1
i
! The firs t season o f 1911-12 did go fo rw ard as scheduled and by every
[account it was a su ccess. P lans w en t ah ead fo r a second seaso n w hich also
I |
su c c e e d e d , b u t did n o t in c re ase th e p ro p o rtio n o f A m erican plays. G arland
grew cranky ov er his bouts w ith th e S h u b erts and grew d isen ch an ted w ith his
I
p o sitio n w hich re q u ire d so m uch fu n draising. F eelin g u n a p p re cia te d , G arland
1
resig n ed from th e S o ciety in N ovem ber 1913, com plaining th a t he had abandoned
his own re m u n e ra tiv e w ork for th e sake o f unpaid serv ice to th e A m erican
th e a te r . This, how ever, w as G arland's excuse fo r not w ritin g in ste a d o f the|
cau se. No am o u n t o f th e a te r re fo rm a c tiv ity could co n ceal to G arlan d hisj
in ab ility to rev iv e h im self as an a r tis t.
i
G arland m ig h t have consoled h im self th a t his C hicago T h e a te r S o ciety
paved th e w ay fo r M aurice Brow n's L ittle T h e a te r w hich th riv ed in C hicago
J
from 1912-17 as A m erica's firs t "ex p e rim en ta l a r t th e a te r." But G arlan d w as
1 2 2 1 ;
in co n so lab le b ecau se he did n o t know w hich w ay to tu rn as a w rite r. G arland
had known bleak p erio d s b e fo re ; during 1905-07 a f te r th e fa ilu re to cap italize'
jon his su ccessfu l W estern novels, and th en once m ore in 1910 a f te r th e fa ilu re
jof M iller of B oscobel. B ut now as th e y e a r 1913 cam e to a close G arland had
h it b o tto m . His d ream to becom e a play w rig h t had ended, and as a w rite r he
had becom e a n o n en tity .
I
Long a f te r th e fa c t, G arland title d th e c h a p te r o f his autobiography
which d escrib ed th is m om ent, "D arkness J u st B efo re th e D aw n." B ut G arland
jcouldn't have known a re s u rre c tio n w as in sig h t w hen he p ulled a m an u scrip t
b u t o f his d raw er a t w hich he had been w orking sp o rad ically fo r o v er te n years..
M erely as a to n ic , G arland d ecid ed to re w rite "A Son o f th e B order West"::
I :
’ ’C losing th e door o f th e b itte r p re se n t and tu rn in g my back on th e sto rm y fu tu re
I reliv ed my audacious youth and d ream ed o f th e b rav e days o f old" (D aughter
374). When he w as fin ish ed , G arland p ack ed up th e m an u scrip t and on a cold,
i '
Ja n u a ry day in 1914 s e t o u t fo r New Y ork "in a d e sp e ra te a tte m p t to dispose’
I
I
o f my re w ritte n _ A Son o f th e M iddle B order" (D au g h ter 325). S hunted from
publisher to publisher, C o llier's m agazine ev en tu ally a g re ed to run Son as a
i
serial.
G arland's h isto ric a l c o n stru ctio n o f a lo st A m erica to u c h ed a chord,
]
in a public less su re o f th e fu tu re as W orld War I loom ed. Son w as w arm ly;
| i
re c e iv e d , lead in g to a c o n tra c t w ith M acm illan's to bring it o u t as a book. When
j i
th e ren ew ed in te re s t in G arland spu rred V itagraph to m ake an o ffe r fo r th e|
m ovie rig h ts to his e a rlie r W esterns, G arland w as not ab o u t to m iss th e ch ance
jto re tu rn p erm an en tly to th e New Y ork w hich had m ade his co m eb ack possible.
G arland w ired his w ife back in C hicago: "P u t our house on sa le , and bring th e
children E ast a t th e e a r lie s t possible m om ent" (B ack -T railers 21).
123
G arlan d ’s w ilderness y ears w ere o v er—b u t not his in v o lv em en t w ith
th e A m erican d ram a.
G a r l a n d ’ s P l a y s o f t h i s P e r i o d
N ot a single w ord o f sch o larsh ip has b een published ab o u t th e nine plays
and one o p era lib r e tto H am lin G arland w ro te from 1896-1909. This despite;
I
th e sch o larly p reo c cu p a tio n w ith reco n cilin g th is m iddle ’’ro m a n tic ” perio d of
G arlan d ’s c a re e r w ith his e a rlie r " re a lis tic ” perio d ; and d esp ite th e public
j
p e rfo rm an c es o f M iller of B oscobel (1909), a so cial refo rm play co n so n an t in
e v ery w ay w ith w ork he had done tw e n ty y e ars e a rlie r as realism 's ad v an ce
m an. A survey of G arland's d ra m a tic w ork d uring th is period w ill provide an
i
o p p o rtu n ity to ra ise se v e ra l issues co ncerning G arlan d ’s life and a r t w hich have
been overlooked.
To s e p a ra te G arland's plays into th e tw o c a te g o rie s o f e ith e r Indian
I
plays or w hat I w ill call fo r convenience W estern ro m an ces, would ignore notj
j
only th e M iller o f B oscobel w hich ends th is p eriod b ut also G ra titu d e (1896)
w hich begins it. G ra titu d e w as w ritte n by G arland in to his notebook during
!
his 1896 trip to M exico to do re se a rc h fo r his G ra n t biography. On th e f ir s t
i
page o f th e au to g rap h te x t, G arland id e n tifie s it as "A Play in Two A cts" (#46)/
O nly th e firs t a c t ap p ears in th e notebook, b u t it fills tw e n ty -fo u r pages and
is long enough to d iscern G arland's in te n tio n fo r a second a c t.
This play p re se n ts y e t again th e b asic O edipal situ a tio n w hich m ust
|
be acknow ledged as th e anim us o f n e arly a ll G arlan d 's a rt: a younger m an try in g
i
to pry a w om an aw ay from an o ld er m an. In th is case th e G arland perso n a is
a slig h tly old er w o rld -w eary d ram a c r itic o f th e New Y ork T im es n am ed O scar
W elcom e. E ste lle F a rb e r is a b e au tifu l young a c tr e s s m aking a h it as th e lead in g
lad y to O m ro, an old and c o rp u len t fading s ta r a c to r . It w as O m ro who discovered
'E stelle in S an ta Fe and bro u g h t h e r b ack E ast to fam e and fo rtu n e as his c o -s ta r.
| i
jE stelle is u n d erstan d ab ly g ra te fu l to O m ro, b u t does not love him as O m ro does
h er. Now tra p p e d as his s ta g e p a rtn e r, E ste lle seek s to fre e h e rse lf o f O m ro J
1 i
jcontrol and avoid th e ir im pending m a rria g e . B ut she does not pine fo r another.j
W hat E ste lle m ost w ants is to go on as an a c tre s s and estab lish h e rse lf in h er
t
own rig h t. E n te r O scar W elcom e, th e p o w erfu l d ram a c ritic o f th e T im es who'
h as com e to in terv iew h e r. E ste lle n a tu ra lly knows O scar's w ork q u ite w ell
j
and she im m e d ia te ly p e rc eiv e s O scar W elcom e as a m an in whom she can co nfide,
a m an d iffe re n t from o th e rs in his te llin g o f th e tru th . E ste lle quickly g e ts
'down to cases:
E. I know your w ritin g s. You a re a stra n g e m an. Y our nam e
is kind b ut you w rite like a m an who is angry a t th e w orld.
W ellcom e N ot angry—only w eary o f it.
E. A re you tire d o f th e w orld too? I didn't suppose any o th e r
w ell-d ressed young p erso n w as tire d o f th e w orld—e x c e p t
m e.
W ellcom e I don't call m yself young any m o re.^
The v ery n ex t m om ent E stelle ap p eals to W elcom e fo r help in free in g
le r from O m ro, and W elcom e w illingly co m plies—n o t as a p o te n tia l lo v er but
i
as E ste lle 's b ro th e r:
W ellcom e I u n d erstan d . She ta k e s me fo r a long lo st e ld e r brother.!
My ag e m akes m e an im m une. j
E ste lle S ta rtin g to w ard h im . Be my b ro th e r. O I am so lonelyi
in th e w orld—and it is so big! Be my b ro th e r and help
m e. She siez e s his hands and lays h er ch eek upon th e m .!
I'm a fra id o f th e world! i
I
The firs t a c t ends as W elcom e, e v er th e m elo d ra m a tic h ero , com m its!
h im self to help his new "siste r" E ste lle . No o th e r o u tco m e for th e second a c t
is th in k ab le but th a t O scar W elcom e su cceed s in w inning E ste lle 's freed o m —
and h e r e te rn a l g ra titu d e .
While alm o st e v ery G arland w ork can be ta k en as a p erso n al alleg o ry ,
iG ratitude ex p lic itly deals w ith an a sp e c t o f G arlan d 's ex p erien ce th a t has re c e iv e d
no a tte n tio n . G arland had tw o s iste rs who b o th died a t th e age o f sev e n te en .
jHis o ld er s is te r H a rrie t, w ith whom G arland w as very close, died o f a fe v e r
in May 1875 w hen G arland w as n ot y e t fifte e n . His younger s is te r J e s s ic a died
! '
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o f a sim ilar illness in 1889 w hile G arland w as m aking his w ay in B oston. Such’
I 1
loss can n o t fa il to have its e f f e c t on any b ro th e r, and b iographers have rig h tfu lly
m ade m uch o f th is in th e cases o f H enry A dam s and H enry Jam e s, bo th o f w hora
su ffe re d th e d e ath s of siste rs . G arland's play G ra titu d e is undoubtedly an
i
e n a c tm e n t o f his wish to find th e siste rs he had long sin ce lo st. T h at he does
i ‘
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so w ithin a th e a tr ic a l m ilieu enab les G arland to id e alize his s iste rs m ore easily
i
I
I
by re p re se n tin g th em in th e c h a ra c te r o f th e classic m elo d ram atic h eroine.
^Garland's id e a liz a tio n o f w om en th e re fo re has deep ro o ts in w h at he so o fte n
said w as th e u n d eserv ed su ffe rin g o f his s is te rs and his m o th er. As O scar
W elcom e p u ts it, "It's a big cru el p la ce fo r a w om an th is w orld is."
B ut G arland m ay have fe lt it w as a c ru e l w orld fo r him as w ell. O scar
W elcom e also re fle c ts G arland's own a n x iety in 1896 o v er s till being u n m arried
a t th e age o f th irty -s ix . The G arland-W elcom e c h a r a c te r is read y to a c c e p t
'E stelle's in v ita tio n to be h e r b ro th e r, sin ce he has given up all hope o f g e ttin g
m arried . H aving relin q u ish ed his claim to a w ife, he is w illing to s e ttle fori
a s iste r. And G arland h im self would have g ladly done so, but o f co u rse in realj
life th e re w as no s is te r to be found e ith e r. Thus his an x iety fo r a w ife was!
c a rrie d fo rw ard to his fir s t play w ith an Indian th e m e , The D au g h ter o f Rushing!
'Bear (1896), th e scen ario fo r w hich ap p ears in th e sam e notebook as G ra titu d e . I
I
The D au g h ter of R ushing B ear is th e d ram a o f an Indian m aiden whoj
fre e s h e rse lf of h er sav ag e and jealo u s Indian boyfriend in o rd e r to m arry th e
w hite scu lp to r who tru ly loves h er. The m aiden's w ise old fa th e r, R ushing B ear,
blesses th is union as he p re p a res to die, fo r he can see th a t th e Indians' daysj
a re n u m bered and it would be p re fe ra b le fo r his d au g h ter to find personal'
happiness th an to end u re th e declin e o f th e Indian ra c e:
[R ushing B ear]: I am n o t sad —I know you a re s a fe r w ith w hite
one—I have looked th e husband through he is good, you do not;
n eed m e—My people do n o t n e e d me th e re fo re I go—Do not weepj
fo r m e—w eep fo r th ose o f our ra c e who rem ain , th e y a re the;
unhappy ones. (#46) j
G arland ap p ears as th e scu lp to r V icto r H arrim an who is se n sitiv e to
jthe plight o f th e Indian and who d ream s o f ta k in g th e Indian g irl b ack to th e'
c ity to e d u c a te and civ ilize h e r. As such, th e th e sis o f th is play sce n a rio m ight
i
be th a t, d esp airin g o f finding a w h ite w om an fo r a w ife, G arland im ag in ativ ely
p ro je c ts h im self tak in g an Indian fo r a w ife and co n v ertin g h e r in to a w hite
I
jwoman. (In his plan fo r th e second a c t, G arland has h e r serv in g te a a t a studio.
i
re c ep tio n .) D raw ing such a conclusion from th is play is m ore th a n a sp ecu latio n ,
I
sin ce th e p re sen c e o f a scu lp to r should d ire c t one's a tte n tio n to G arland's c lo se st
frien d a t th e tim e , C hicago scu lp to r L orado T a ft, w hose siste r, Z ulim e, G arland;
1
(eventually m arried in 1899. A t th e tim e G arland w ro te R ushing B ear he w as
fresh from th e d isap p o in tm en t o f seein g his designs upon Z ulim e T a ft balked.
1 !
As a fre q u e n t v isito r to L orado T a ft's stu d io , G arland had stru c k up an
I
i
j
a cq u a in ta n ce w ith Z ulim e T a ft, te n y e ars his junior, who sh ared G arland's'
seriousness ab o u t a r t. T heirs by no m eans w as an im m ed iate in fa tu a tio n , y et:
G arland knew th is w as as close as he had com e even to th e o p p o rtu n ity of
co u rtsh ip . So w hen in la te 1894 Z ulim e announced she w as leav in g fo r se v e ra l
y e ars o f "finishing" in P aris, G arland ru ed n o t having been q u ick er to ex p ress
I „ |
his a ffe c tio n fo r h er. Thus w hile The D au g h ter o f R ushing B ear does re fle c t;
G arland's in te re s t in th e Indian c u ltu re s o f th e F a r W est, it also re fle c ts G arland's!
prim ary in te re s t in h im self, as is alw ays th e case w ith G arland's plays. j
The D au g h ter o f R ushing B ear serv es as an e n tra n c e to G arland's periods
o f in te n se lite ra ry a c tiv ity in Indian su b je c ts, w hich concluded in 1902 with;
th e p u b licatio n of his m ost su ccessfu l n ovel The C ap tain of th e G ray -H o rsei
I !
Troop. In th is novel, G arland's sy m p a th e tic though p a te rn a listic ap p ro ach toi
i
th e Indians is e ffe c tiv e ly p re se n te d in ren d erin g a fic tio n a l acco u n t o f th e Indian!
I 1
uprising o f 1897 on th e C heyenne re s e rv a tio n a t D arlington, O klahom a. As!
I have n o ted , th e novel's su ccess c a ta p u lte d G arlan d to n a tio n a l p ro m in en ce,
lead in g him to tr y once m ore fo r su ccess on th e New Y ork sta g e . G arlan d w ro te
a scen ario fo r a play based upon The C ap tain , th e m anuscript fo r w hich w as
|found b u ried in a fo ld er o f loose u n id e n tifie d play frag m e n ts in th e G arland
i
P ap ers (#217). This sce n a rio , e n title d The R ed B ro th e r, can be re lia b ly d a te d
sh o rtly a f te r th e novel ap p ea re d in M arch 1902. Its opening p relu d e is a useful'
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sh o rth an d o f G arlan d 's co n cep tio n o f th e fo u r sta g e s in th e h isto ry o f th e
t
I
•Am erican Indian:
I
j P re lu d e . (a) L egendary
j (B.) The C om ing o f th e W hitem an,
t (C.) D e fe a t.
| (D.) C a p tiv ity
G arland's books and plays on th e A m erican Indian a ll d e al w ith th e fo u rth
s ta g e o f c a p tiv ity . In The R ed P io n eer, ju st a s in The C a p ta in , g reed y c a ttle m a n
| ;
a re d e term in e d to drive th e C heyennes o ff c o v e te d re se rv a tio n lands. When
L sh eep h erd er—a c a ttle m a n 's w orst enem y—is found m urdered, th e cattlem en !
| ,
h y p o c ritic a lly use it as a p re te x t to ta k e th e law into th e ir own hands by
p e rsec u tin g th e Indians whom th e y hold resp o n sib le fo r th e crim e. B ut th e noble;
C ap tain C u rtis is d e ta c h e d on a sp ecial assig n m en t to th e a re a by th e Interiorj
D e p a rtm e n t. He is to re p la c e a c o rru p t Indian a g e n t and see th a t ju stic e is'
done, w hich o f co u rse he does, and along th e w ay falls in love w ith Elsie Brisbane!
j
I
whom he co n v erts to an a p p re c ia tio n of Indian c u ltu re .
128
In his plan to d ra m a tiz e T he C a p ta in , G arland probably did n o t adv an ce
fu r th e r th an to w rite th e sce n a rio fo r The R ed B ro th e r. A young R ach el C rothers,j
who lived n e a r C hicago b u t also a sp ired to su ccess on B roadw ay, receiv ed
p a rla n d 's perm ission to w ork up h er own d ra m a tiz a tio n o f The C a p ta in . C ro th ers
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jand h e r c o lla b o ra to r Louise M organ Sill c o m p le ted th e ir play and co p y rig h ted
it on May 28, 1903 as "The C ap tain o f th e G ray H orse T roop; a play in 5 a c ts,
by R . C ro th e rs and L. M. Sill, founded on th e novel by H am lin G a r l a n d . T h e
b lay w as n ev er p e rfo rm ed and G arland ask ed fo r th e re tu rn o f th e d ra m a tic
rig h ts to th e novel, w hich Sill a g re e d to in h e r le tte r to G arland o f F eb ru ary
■27, 1904 (#3507). By th a t tim e G arlan d had been to New Y ork and le a rn e d once
ag ain th a t B roadw ay had n o t been w aitin g fo r his a rriv a l, so it a p p ea rs he did
n o t p ro ceed w ith his e ffo rts to sta g e his novel.®
j The tru e sig n ifican ce o f th e episode m ay be to shed a b it o f lig h t on
R ac h e l C ro th e rs' e a rly c a re e r. C ro th e rs o f co u rse w as th e lead in g fe m a le
A m erican d ra m a tis t o f th e f ir s t th re e d ecad es o f th e tw e n tie th c en tu ry . H er
ifirst h it w as The T hree o f Us (1906), a N evada m ining-cam p d ram a th a t resem b les
W illiam Vaughn Moody's The G re a t D ivide. No m ention, how ever, has ev er
ibeen m ade o f C ro th e rs' a d a p ta tio n o f G arland's novel th re e y e ars b e fo re . H er
play b ased upon The C ap tain n o t only stan d s as h er firs t fu ll-le n g th w ork, b ut
I
also show s th a t h e r id ea fo r a play w ith a W estern th e m e lik e The T hree o f
Us had been p e rc o la tin g in h e r m ind fo r a long tim e b e fo re h e r f ir s t su ccess.
I
N o tw ith stan d in g G arland's in ab ility to tu rn The C ap tain o f th e G ray-H orse
J
Troop in to a su ccessfu l p lay, th e novel m ade G arland so m eth in g of an e x p ert
!
on Indian a ffa irs . An old a c q u a in ta n c e by th e nam e o f T heodore R ooseveltj
re a d th e book and in v ite d G arland to th e W hite H ouse. R o o sev elt ap p o in ted
G arlan d his u n o fficia l am b assad o r to th e Indian te rrito rie s and G arland took
129]
i
his p o sitio n q u ite seriously. In such essays as "T he R edm an’s P re se n t Needs")
i
in th e N orth A m erican R eview (Sept 1902), G arlan d b ecam e th e lead in g public
j i
a d v o c a te o f fa irn e ss and com passion fo r th e Indian. A lthough as alw ays G arland
> t
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jwas e n tire ly sin c e re in lobbying fo r Indian rig h ts, he brought to his w ork a;
f
p a te rn a listic a ttitu d e th a t w as perhaps in e v ita b le fo r w ell-m eaning A m ericans'
who so g re a tly w an ted to believ e in th e re c titu d e o f th e ir own c u ltu re . As an
exam ple, G arland once m ade a p roposal to re n a m e th e Indians by appending
w hite su rn am es to th e ir trib a l nam es, hoping to m ake it e a sie r for th e Indians1
jto deal w ith g o v ern m en t b u re a u c ra ts.
I
! In once sense, th e n , G arland's re fo rm e th ic , though lau d ab le and bold
fo r its tim e , does n o t seem m uch adv an ced o v er th a t o f m ost A m erican plays
I ,
bn th e Indian, d a tin g from Jam e s N elson B ark er's tre a tm e n t o f th e P o c a h o n tas1
m yth in The Indian P rin cess (1808). In such plays, as in P o cah o n tas (1830) by
|
p e o rg e W ashington P ark e C u stis, once th e lig h t o f th e w hite m an's C h ristia n
■doctrine shines in P o cah o n tas's soul, she is ab le to re a liz e h e r love fo r John
I
S m ith and sav e him from h e r fellow sav ag es. T rapped b etw een tw o c u ltu re s,
'P ocahontas reso lv es h e r p erso n al crisis by fa c in g up to th e su p erio rity o f th e
|
w hite m an's values. In throw ing over th e gods o f h er fa th e rs , P o cah o n tas becam e!
i
a u seful sym bol o f rev o lu tio n to A m erican au d ien ces who would have liked to!
convince th e m selv e s th a t Indians re a lly do like th e w hite m an. O ne c a n !
a p p re c ia te how th is m ythologizing m ight a p p eal to a n atio n th a t w as in thei
p ro cess of crushing th e Indian. By G arland's day Indians had been all herded!
jon to re se rv a tio n s, and w h ites could assu ag e th e ir g u ilt by fin ally helping th e
Indians to a ssim ila te to a c u ltu re th e y should have had th e good sen se to y ield 1
to in th e firs t p lace. G arland su rely is to be com m ended fo r his willingness!
130
to a c c e p t th e Indian as a "R ed B ro th er," though it w as on th e co n d itio n he a c t
lik e a w hite m an.
i
B ut it should be n o te d th a t G arland w as no less p a te rn a listic to w ard
!
th e dow ntrodden W isconsin fa rm e rs he d e p ic te d m uch e a rlie r in M ain-T ravelled
R oads. So by ad o p tin g th e Indians as his la te s t cause he w as s till o p e ra tin g
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o u t o f a fu n d am en tal eg o ce n trism . A t th e sam e tim e th e re is no q u estio n th a t
G arlan d 's co n cern fo r th e Indian w en t fa r d e ep e r and w as fa r m ore p assio n ately
jexpressed th an w as e v er th e case w ith his fellow M iddle B order fa rm e rs. Why
should th is be so? F or an an sw er, one w an ts fo r a b e tte r ex p lan atio n th a n th e
p rev ailin g view th a t Indian sto rie s paid w ell.
The answ er is to be found in G arland's rela tio n sh ip to h isto ry . As H arlan'
H ahn n o ted in "The L ost H isto ry o f B oom tow n," c ite d above, "As a p ro d u ct
i
o f th e ru ra l M idw est, G arland sought, b u t w as unable to find, th e c o n ce p t o f
lis to ry as co n tin u ity . . . . G arland w as seek in g a n o tio n of h isto ry w hich w as
ab se n t from his h e rita g e " (608). Thus one a p p ro p ria te paradigm fo r G arland's
en tire c a re e r—n o t ju st his post-1916 a u to b io g ra p h ic al p eriod—w as th e q u est
:? o r a h isto ry as the basis o f an id e n tity . No group w as m ore lik ely to be th e
so u rce o f th e h isto ric a l consciousness G arland sought a ll his life to a tta in th an '
th e o rig in al A m erican s, th e Indians. G arland's joy in his d iscovery of th e Indian
as th e so u rce o f an A m erican h isto ry w as u n co n cealed . He d escrib ed his re a c tio n j
to seein g th e c erem o n ia l d an ce o f th e Crow Indians in w hich th ey d e p ic te d sta g e s J
in trib a l h isto ry :
To m e th is w as a th rillin g glim pse into p re h isto ric A m erica,
fo r th e se young m en, strip p e d o f th e ir ta in te d w h ite-m an rags,
w ere w holly ad m irab le, p a in te d lith e -lim b e d w arrio rs, rejoicing!
once ag ain in th e lig h t o f th e ir a n c e s tra l m oons. On e v ery fa c e
w as a look like th a t o f a c a p tiv e leo p ard , d ream in g o f fa r-s e e n
fa m ilia r sands. The p re sen t w as fo rg o t, th e p ast w as m o m en tarily ;
re sto re d . j
i
131 j
A t m idnight w e w en t aw ay b u t th e stran g ely -m o v in g beat;
o f th a t b a rb a ric drum w as s till th ro b b in g in m y e ars as I fell
asleep . (D au g h ter 42-43)
G arland c lea rly id e n tifie d w ith th e h isto ric a l p ro g ress o f th e Indian,
w hich he o u tlin ed in his play scen ario The R ed B ro th e r, as a m ov em en t to w ard
d e fe a t and c a p tiv ity . The problem in th is fo r G arland, h ow ever, w as th a t such
a n o tio n of h isto ry d ire c tly re b u tte d his p rio r view o f h isto ry as a n a rra tiv e
of ev o lu tio n ary pro g ress, a view he had held his e n tire life . G arland n eeded
th e re fo re to reso lv e th e in te rn a l c o n flic t caused by th e se tw o co m p etin g th eo ries'
'of h isto ry .
Now one begins to a rriv e a t th e genesis o f G arlan d 's m ov em en t to w ard
i
,the red isco v ery of his own h isto ry in his a u to b io g ra p h ic al w orks. G arland's
stu d y o f Indian h isto ry p re se n te d a sto ry o f d eclin e th a t could n o t be easily
"denied. A t th e sam e tim e , G arland w as q u ite unw illing given his m elo d ra m a tic
I
w orld view to relinquish his b e lie f in ev o lu tio n ary p ro g ress. T he ev o lu tio n ary
h isto ric a l m odel could n o t be s a tisfa c to rily re ta in e d by G arland th rough m ere
jwill, though fo r m any o f his day th is was a solu tio n . In stead , by seein g th e p a tte rn
\
o f his own life sym bolized by th e Indian, G arland began to ad v an ce Indian h isto ry ’
beyond th e fo u rth sta g e o f c a p tiv ity to include a fifth s ta g e o f in e v ita b le
ideath—and re su rre c tio n . G arland rig h tly saw th e Indian h eading fo r d istinction,!
I
:>ut he w as able to a cco m m o d ate th is to a h is to ric a l th e o ry o f p rogress by
sp iritu a liz in g th e Indian in his plays and assu rin g him a re tu rn to th e "happy
I
lands" in an a fte rlife . In th is w ay, G arland in e f f e c t w as sta g in g his own d e ath
I
.which would fre e him fo r a re su rre c tio n in to his p ro p er p la ce on th e M iddle.
B order. T h ere his own h isto ry could fin ally be re sto re d .
i
A case in po in t is G arland's sh o rt play The S torm C h ild , d a te d in 1906!
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during th e dark perio d th a t follow ed w hen his novels The C ap tain o f th e !
132
G ray -H o rse T roop and H esper fa ile d to m ake his nam e p e rm a n en t in New York.
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This b rie f eleg y is a v erse d ram a th a t re p re se n ts G arland's a tte m p t to catchj
jthe rh y th m s o f Indian sp eech . The play opens w ith old Hokah, th e C h ief of
th e T eto n s, co m m iseratin g w ith o th e r old Indians:
O nce I w as young, now I i
am old— |
I d read th e sto rm . !
The wind a ffrig h ts m e.
I love th e fire , as a dog
I crouch beside it -
O f old it was n o t so. (#212)
j H okah goes on to re c o u n t how a w h ite m an once saved him w hen he
lo s t his w ay in a b liz z ard , th u s te a c h in g th e Indian th e q u ality of m ercy . Hokah
is given a ch ance to apply th is lesson when C ita n a , a young Indian m o th e r, rushesi
i
in w ith th e new s th a t h e r baby w andered o ff and is lo st in th e fie rc e sto rm .
i
She p leads fo r H okah to change th e m inds o f th e b rav es who re fu s e to co n tin u e
I
to se a rc h for th e child, having consigned th e child to a fa te d d e a th . In a fin al
j
a c t o f a u th o rity , H okah o rd ers th e b rav es to resu m e th e sea rc h , prom ising C itan a
i
h e r child's body "shall n ot fe e d th e w olves." This a c t o f m ercy re c e iv e s a
b en ed ictio n fro m C ita n a w hich ends th e play: "The g re a t S p irit w ill sm ile/W hen
you app ro ach ."
The S torm C hild is a re p rise o f G arland's poem "L ost in a N o rth er" (1887)j
I
in w hich a lone ho rsem an is tra p p e d in a D ak o ta b lizzard . The te n a c ity o f th is
m e ta p h o r in G arland's im ag in atio n is re p re se n te d in The S torm C hild by a series
of th re e "lo st in a n o rth e r" episodes, e ac h follow ed by a saving re su rre c tio n .
i
F irst, Hokah as a young w a rrio r w as found in th e sto rm and sav ed by th e white;
i
m an. Then C ita n a's child, lo st in th e sto rm , is assu red salv a tio n w hen Hokah
sends o u t th e b rav es. And fin ally , H okah, who is lo st in th e m e ta p h o ric storm '
o f old ag e and im pending d e a th , w hich cau ses him to crouch by th e fire like
133
a dog, m ay look fo rw ard to re su rre c tio n by th e "g re a t S p irit" who w ill sm ile
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down w hen H okah ap p ro ach es. In th is co n tin u in g cy cle o f d e ath and re su rre c tio n ,1
G arland uses H okah as a p ro je c tio n of his ow n a n ach ro n istic s ta tu s as a w rite^
jwho w as "y este rd a y ’s w arrio r" and now fa c e s im m in en t e x tin c tio n . R esu rrectio n ,j
(how ever, a w aits in an a f te r lif e w here one w ill be re s to re d to w here one belongs.;
| I
G arland's p erso n al analogy fo r th is re s u rre c tio n w as his re tu rn to th e Middle;
I i
B order to w rite his au to b io g rap h y . j
F u rth e rm o re , by signifying re s u rre c tio n in The S torm C hild by th e life!
i
o f th e Indian child who is sav ed , G arland m ay be re p re se n tin g th e n e a r-d e a th
o f his own th re e y e ar-o ld d a u g h ter. In N ovem ber 1906, young M ary Isab el G arland
to o k ill w ith d ip th e ria . T he a tte n d in g d o c to r d esp a ire d o f h er life , and G arland
i
re c a lls s ittin g a t his d a u g h ter’s sickbed during th e w o rst o f it: "T hat n ig h t, w hich
i
i
il d a re not dw ell upon, p u t my youth d e fin ite ly behind m e" (D au g h ter 324). When
M ary ra llie d , G arland saw it as a re su rre c tio n th a t m ight p resag e his ow n a r tis tic
J
re b irth : "I b ecam e th e fond o p tim ist again" (D au g h ter 324).
G arland co n tin u ed to preside a t his own fu n e ra l in W am desapa (c. 1906),'
a fa sc in a tin g lib r e tto fo r an o p e re tta , if only to su g g est th e ran g e o f G arland's
ja ctiv itie s during a p eriod w hich has been seen as one o f a m onolithic pro d u ctio n
of pulp fic tio n . The title c h a ra c te r o f th is lib r e tto ap p eared b rie fly in The
S torm C hild as one o f H okah's fellow aging w a rrio rs. T h em atically , W am desapa
co n tin u es th e eleg iac d e ath song o f The S torm C h ild . H ere th e old Indian m u rd ers
a young w arrio r who th re a te n s his a u th o rity . W am desapa cannot sp are h im self
fo r th is u n sp eakable c rim e , a crim e G arlan d m ight have subconciously,
c o n te m p la te d a g ain st w rite rs who w ere su p p lan tin g him . The Indian's fin al
w ords m ight serv e as G arland's own:
F a rew ell, my b ro th e rs —
F a rew ell, my people.
1 ~ 3 4 |
O u tc a st am I.
Into th e d ark I go
To w eep alone 1
To w ander alo n e.
To p ray alone
With M aniton.
F a re w ell (#216)
I
This lib re tto is also im p o rta n t as a sign o f G arlan d ’ s am b itio n to bring
A m erican m a te ria ls to th e E uropean form o f o p era. G arland w ished to sh are
th e m u sicality of Indian c u ltu re , ap p aren tly hoping to find som eone to s e t his
ly ric a l Indian p o e try in to an A m erican m usical idiom . A lthough a u th e n tic a lly
A m erican folk o p era w ould n o t b ecom e popular u n til G ershw in's Porgy and Bess
[(1935), i t is in te re stin g to n o te how A m ericans like G arland had been fashioning
ia tte m p ts a t folk o p era fo r m any y ears. G arland's good frien d , p lay w rig h t P ercy
jlVIacKaye, w as to w rite a lib r e tto fo r an u n su ccessfu l o p e re tta o f R ip Van W inkle
!(1919) sco red by R eginald De Koven of Robin Hood (1891) fa m e . T hese a tte m p ts
f
land m any o th e rs a tte s t to th e grow ing p o p u larity o f m usic in B roadw ay th e a tric a l
p ro d u ctio n s w hich would ev en tu ally le ad to th e m usical as an A m erican popular
a r t form .
I
Though one m ay a rg u e w h e th er th e m odern m usical is an A m erican
in v en tio n , th e re is little q u estio n th a t th e W estern is p e rc eiv e d as a d istin c tly
A m erican g en re. The W estern had its ro o ts in th e la te n in e te e n th cen tu ry just'
as th e A m erican fro n tie r w as closing. G arland is a t pains in his au to b io g rap h ies
i
to a ss e rt h im self as th e p io n eer o f th e W estern, and indeed G arland's novels
h elped to c re a te a m ythology of th e F a r W est. His rem ain in g plays o f th is period
r e f le c t th e explosion o f in te re s t in "cow boy" c u ltu re during th e y e ars 1900-10.
i
One o f G arlan d ’ s plays of th e F ar W est, T he G irl in th e Gingham
I
S un-bonnet, is d iffic u lt to d a te p recisely , b ut th e m ost e d u c a te d guess would
j
h ave it in 1903 or e arly 1904. This w as th e perio d during w hich G arland sp en t
a g re a t d eal o f tim e in New Y ork a f te r th e su ccess o f The C a p ta in of th e
| I
,G r a y -H o r se Troop (1902) and H esper (1903). G arland c lea rly hoped to refornv
B roadw ay by stag in g one o f his w holesom e W estern dram as and he said as much!
j I
in his th e a te r novel, The L ight o f th e S ta r, w hich L adies H om e Jo u rn a l se ria liz e d
| i
fro m Ja n u a ry to May 1904.® In th is novel, a W estern m an and p lay w rig h t nam ed
! i
D ouglass com es to New Y ork arm ed w ith a " re a listic " play, hoping to convince!
a b e a u tifu l s ta r a c tre s s to play in it. O f co u rse she ag rees, b ut th e play fails.
When she gives D ouglass a ch an ce to w rite a second play, he p re se n ts h er with!
a sce n a rio fo r "Enid's Love":
!
| This is to be as perso n al, as p o e tic as th e o th e r is sociologic.
The p a rt you play is a young g irl who knows noth in g o f life butj
a good d e al ab o u t books. . . . H er fa th e r, a W estern m ine-ow nerj
losing his second w ife, calls on his d au g h ter to re tu rn to his hom e
in a W estern c ity . The g irl is plunged a t once in to th e m idst
o f a p leasu re-seek in g th o u g h tle ss c irc le o f a c q u a in ta n c e s, whose
in te re s t in life seem s to h e r to be grossly m a te ria l. (139)
i
This is th e v ery p rem ise o f The G irl in th e G ingham S u n -b o n n et. With;
jsome slig h t changes in th e p a rtic u la rs, th e au to g ra p h p lay scrip t o f tw en ty -o n e
le av e s re a d s like th e triu m p h o f "Enid's Love" in The L ight o f th e S ta r . In th e|
p lay , H elen K auffm an is th e handsom e young g irl o f th e title who joins her;
G erm an im m ig ran t fa th e r on his R ocky M ountain c a ttle ran ch a f te r his w ifei
I I
has died. H elen is soon put upon by boorish row dies who re s e n t h e r fath er's)
| I
G erm an a n c e s try and m ake rude ad v an ces on h e r. H elen is ab le to co n fid e only;
in a g o o d -n atu red F o re st R an g er who is s m itte n and w ishes to p ro te c t h er from
th e lik es o f th e b ru tish Ed W atson who re c e n tly trie d to fo rc e h im self on Helen.!
When Ed W atson is found m u rd ered , th e ev id en ce su g g ests th e k ille r w as a w om an,
and th e in d ic tm e n t falls upon H elen b ecau se she and h e r f a th e r had o fte n
ex p ressed th e ir dislike fo r th e W atsons. A m u rd er tr ia l ensues, b u t w ith th e
R an g er's help H elen is found in n o cen t. Suspicion th en falls upon a n o th e r vulgar
136
young g irl from th e tow n who is fre e w ith h e rse lf w hen it com es to m en. G arlanc
i
e ith e r did n o t co m p lete th e play or else th e ending is m issing, b u t one is led
i
to b eliev e th a t th is "Eve" w ill be found g u ilty , and th a t a t th e ro o t o f all evil
i
I
one w ill indeed find a w eak w om an. Only th o se like H elen who ta k e th e m oral
high ground can be a ssu red happiness w ith a F o re st R an g er o f th e ir own.
The G irl in th e G ingham S un-bonnet is G arlan d 's p rin cip al ex am ple of
i
jthe d ra m a tic s o f w holesom eness. But G arland's drive to em ploy th is play as
a w eapon in fig h tin g fo r th e m oral re fo rm a tio n o f B roadw ay m u st n ot be seen
as an iso la te d case o f a re p re sse d m an seek in g to im pose his values upon th e
th e a te r . G arland w as p a rtic ip a tin g in a m ov em en t th a t began in th e la te 1890's
i
as a re a c tio n to w h at w ere th en co n sid ered lic e n tio u s displays. As fa r back
I
as 1892, W illiam W inter, th e e x tre m e ly in flu e n tia l d ram a c ritic o f th e New
;York T ribune, d ep lo red M arg are t F lem ing fo r its e x p licit tre a tm e n t o f m odern
jsexual re la tio n s. W inter fo r y ears a tta c k e d th e in flu en ce of Ibsen, m ain tain in g
th a t "The p rovince o f a r t, and esp ecially d ra m a tic a r t, is b e au ty , n o t d efo rm ity :
th e n eed o f th e w orld is to be c h eered , n o t d ep ressed" (qtd in B ordm an 720).
Many o th e rs like T. A llston Brow n, a u th o r o f A _ H isto ry o f th e Newj
I
Y ork S tag e (1903), a b h o rred "pornographic plays" lik e C lyde F itc h 's Sapho w hich
w as closed by New Y ork p o lice on F eb ru ary 16, 1900, b ecau se o f a scen e in
I
w hich Sapho w as c a rrie d to h e r bedroom by h er lo v er. Brown concludes, "Sapho;
re a lly p erfo rm ed a se rv ic e fo r th e pure d ram a o f A m erica by bringing o u t publicj
disap p ro v al and co n d em n atio n o f libidinous plays" (3. 364). G arland w as o f course
p redisposed to join th e a d v o c a te s o f pure d ram a, b ut he w as also given all th e
en co u rag em en t he n eed ed by th o se close to him to ta k e an a c tiv e ro le . Noj
less an a u th o rity th a n B rander M atthew s p raised G arland for his W estern shortj
sto rie s w hich w ere c o lle c te d in They o f th e High T rails: "W hat I lik ed b e st a b o u t
i t was its m anliness, its e sse n tia l m ascu lin ity ,—a h ealth y c o rre c tiv e in th e se
days o f o v er-sex ed fic tio n and o f o v er-o b sessed fem in in ity " (9 S ept 1916 #2782).'
I I
'Far from being a so lita ry cran k , G arland w as q u ite in ste p w ith prevailing,
'a ttitu d e s in th e e arly 1900's.
G arland acco rd in g ly had every reaso n to fe e l o p tim istic ab o u t his chances'
!
■for d ram a refo rm as he m arch ed in to New Y ork in 1902 upon th e su ccess o f
i
iThe C ap tain o f th e G ray -H o rse T roop. In co n trib u tin g to a forum in th e N orth
A m erican R eview o f S ep tem b er 1902 on th e question, "Will th e N ovel
D isap p ear?", ^ G arland do u b ted it would, but added th is w arning:
The re a lly dangerous riv a l o f th e novel, in my ju d g m en t, is th e
d ram a. . . . We a re soon to have an enorm ous rev iv al o f d ram atic,
d e lin e atio n o f hum an life —a new d ram a, vivid, sw ift, hum orous,|
and ab so lu tely co n tem p o ran eo u s. O ur e v er-in c rea sin g cen ters;
o f p o p u lation dem and th e d ra m a , and th ey w ill have it. The.
th e a te r is to be th e riv a l o f b o th fic tio n and jo urnalism . (293)
G arland's p re d ic tio n fo r an im m in en t "enorm ous revival" m ay have been;
a ll th e m ore c o n fid e n t fo r know ing he w as soon to unleash upon B roadw ay his!
own d ra m a tiz a tio n o f his second m ajor pop u lar novel, H esper (1903). The
'com pleted p lay scrip t o f sev e n ty -tw o le av e s follow s th e novel clo sely . Itsi
I
unasham edly ro m a n tic p lo t involves th e tra n s fo rm a tio n o f Ann R u p e rt from ;
i
an E a ste rn e r to a W estern er, as she m oves to C olorado to be n e ar h e r fa th e r,'
a fre e m iner cau g h t in th e m iddle o f th e C rip p le C re ek M iner's War b e tw ee n
union m iners and m ine ow ners. G arland had based th e novel on th e v ery re a l
Bull H ill M iner's War w hich he had ob serv ed during one o f his trip s to C olorado
! i
in 1901. H ow ever, th e so cio lo g ical background o f th is econom ic c o n flic t is
|of d is ta n t in te re s t to G arland in com parison to th e sto ry o f his h ero in e who
su cc e ed s in becom ing a tru e d au g h ter o f th e F a r W est and thus ta k e s h e r new!
n am e from th e H esp erid es o f G reek m ythology. In th e play o f H esper th is :
so cio lo g ical b ack g ro u n d is n ecessarily d eem p h asized even fu rth e r and w hatj
138 [
(
'rem ains is a creak y ro m an ce. G arland h im self w as w illing to own up to it: "That'
H esper is my m ost ro m a n tic novel I m ust ad m it" (qtd in M cCullough 355). |
G arland n eed n 't have b een e m b arra ssed o v er such an adm ission during
I
a p eriod d ram a h isto ria n A rth u r Hobson Q uinn d escrib es as "The Indian Sum m er,
jof R o m an ce." One o f G arland's fa v o rite au th o rs during th is period w as Frankj
i
i
N o rris, due to w hat G arland saw as N orris's ro m a n tic g ran d eu r. G arlan d valued
N o rris's The P it (1903) o v er The O ctopus (1901) b ecau se th e fo rm e r w as "m ore.
genial—th a t is to say , m ore m atu re" (C om panions 171). G arland also m ay have;
oeen responsive to N orris an an ex em p lar o f w hat E ric Sunquist has te rm e d
!
"the ro m an ce o f m oney":
The ag e o f realism in A m erica is th e ag e o f th e ro m an ce of
i m oney—m oney n ot in any sim ple sense but in th e com plex,
a lte ra tio n s o f hum an value th a t it brings in to being by its own!
c a p a c itie s fo r rep ro d u ctio n . As [m oney] d efin es, by changing,
our notions o f a se lf, so too it m ay d efine a change in our notions
o f a n o v e listic h ero. . . . The hero is d e m o c ra tiz e d n o t by being
sw allow ed up by th e fie rc e oblivion of m a te ria lity or by being;
i le v elled to in sig n ifican ce b ut ra th e r by being p e rm itte d to
■ in c o rp o ra te th e age's own d ream o f su ccess, its own sp ecial
ro m an ce. (19-20)
G arland would n o t have th o u g h t it th ro u g h in th is w ay, b u t th e re is
Little qu estio n he w as in th e lite ra ry m a in stre am along w ith such b e st-se llin g j
1 I
ro m a n c iers as his frien d s Irving B ach eller, W inston C hurchill, Z ane G rey, and]
j ,
O w en W ister. A gain, it is v ita lly im p o rta n t to em p hasize th a t G arlan d 's rom ancei
e th ic w as n o t a re c e n t acq u isitio n fo r th e sake o f in c re ase d book sa le s. Ever
sin ce G arland w en t to B oston in 1884, his a r tis tic bible had been Eugene Veron's
'A esth etics (1879), in w hich his ex ten siv e m arg in alia included th e n o te , "This
work in flu en ced me m ore th a n any o th e r w ork on a rt." V eron's own co n cep tio n
was po sitiv ely W ordsw orthian: "A rt, co n sid ered from a psy ch o lo g ical p o in t of
view, is nothing but th e sp o n tan eo u s ex p ression of c e rta in co n cep tio n s o f things"
139
(xiii). In 1895 G arlan d re c a p itu la te d V eron in a sp eech title d "R ealism Versus
R om an ticism ":
In o th e r w ords, th e w hole ten d en c y o f m odern a r t is to w ard s
th e c e le b ra tio n of th e individual by th e individual, and you can n o t
class w rite rs in any h ard and fa s t division. T h ere is n o t an a rtis t
j living who d e lin e a te s 'things as th ey a re .' T h ere is n o t a w rite r
living holding th a t fo r a th e o ry , o r who has th a t d esire fo r a
fu n d am en tal im pulse. A rt is se le c tio n , and upon th e individual
soul o f th e c re a tiv e a r tis t is laid th e burden o f ch o ice. (R eed
21)
The d iffic u lty fo r G arland as a p lay w rig h t—as in th e c ase o f H esper—
(was th a t w hat he s e le c te d as a c re a tiv e a r tis t to p u t in to his novel w as not
| 1
^easily tra n s la ta b le to th e sta g e . O ne co m p lim en tary review o f H esp er was
q u ite a c c u ra te in id en tify in g th e p rim ary a p p eal to th e re a d e r:
H ow ever th e love stra in is n e v e r th e c h ief th in g in his W estern
I novels. F or th e y a re n o t sto rie s o f life so m uch as th e y a re album s
j o f n a tu ra l scen ery . No one sin ce B ret H a rte is ab le to show
I n a tu re so w ell in his m ountain w oods. (The Independent 24 D ec
I 1903)
i
i B ut ju st as B ret H a rte had fa ile d to a d ap t his own sto rie s to th e sta g e ,
G arland w as a t a loss as to how to d ra m a tiz e his "album s o f n a tu ra l scen ery ."
G arlan d 's play H esper w as th u s void o f its m o st im p o rtan t ch arm . As a re s u lt,1
unlike his fic titio n a l double in The L ight o f th e S ta r, G arland d e p a rte d New
Y ork C ity in 1904 w ith o u t having had his w holesom e d ram a su cc e ed in tak in g
th e c ity by sto rm .
He le ft behind him se v e ra l th e a te r p ro fessio n als, how ever, who had
b eco m e in te re s te d in th e W estern, in p a rt b ecau se th e ir skills and e x p erien c e
w ere eq u al to th e ta sk o f c re a tin g re a lis tic scen ic e ffe c ts . D avid B elasco
(1859-1931) w as th e m ost fam ous o f th e se . His obsession fo r sce n ic realism ,
re a c h e d its z en ith in his p ro d u ctio n of Eugene W alter's The E asiest Way (1909)
w hen he w ent down to th e T enderloin d is tric t, bought up th e e n tire interiorj
o f an a c tu a l boarding house, d ism an tled it and th en reassem b led it p iece byj
140
c
p ie ce on th e sta g e o f th e B elasco -S tu y v esan t T h e a te r in New Y ork. If anyone
I
could tra n sp la n t th e F ar W est to B roadw ay, it w as B elasco. ;
B elasco also bro u g h t to th e th e a te r his g ift as a m e lo d ra m a tist. By
1905 B elasco had w ritte n ov er fo rty plays o f his own, including early
i ;
i j
jcollaborations w ith Ja m e s A. H erne. S eeing g re a t p o te n tia l in th is vogue for
[W esterns, B elasco com bined s ta rtlin g ly re a l sce n ic e ffe c ts w ith so p h istic a te d
m elo d ram a, and th e re su lt w as th e phenom enal su ccess o f The G irl o f th e G olden
W est (1905). G arland m ight have envied how B elasco em ployed th irty -tw o highly
|train ed sp ecial e ffe c ts m en to c re a te a m eticu lo u sly re a lis tic snow storm . G arland
I i
h a d long been an a d m ire r o f B elasco's, tra d in g w ith him se v e ra l c o m p lim e n ta ry
i ;
le tte r s . As a W estern a u th o rity , G arland w as asked to s it in on th e C hicago
re h e a rsa ls o f The G irl o f th e G olden W est.* * G arlan d la te r saw a p erfo rm an c e
jo f T he G irl o f th e G olden W est in Ja n u a ry 1907 w hen it w as s till running in'
'New Y ork. *
I
| By th a t tim e se v e ra l o f G arland's o th e r p lay w rig h t frien d s had siezed
!
jthe o p p o rtu n ity to s ta g e W esterns. A ugustus T hom as produced C olorado (1901),.
b u t it w as to o e a rly to sh are in th e su ccess stim u la te d by B elasco. R a c h e l
i '
C ro th e rs ach iev ed h e r firs t acclaim w ith The T h ree of Us (1906), s e t in a N evada'
m ining cam p, and th e sam e y ear W illiam Vaughn Moody's The G re a t Dividel
a p p eared . G arland m en tio n s seein g all o f th e se p lays and he could n o t have
fa ile d to n o tic e how all o f th em w ere w orking w ith his own fa v o rite situ a tio n
of th e clash b e tw ee n an E a ste rn g irl and a W estern m an. The p o in t th a t was
alw ays lo st on G arland, how ever, w as th a t th e se frien d s w ere th e a te r p ro fessio n als
I
who knew th e business o f a c tin g , d ire c tin g , and producing. N o n etheless G arland
m ight be fo rgiven fo r try in g once m ore to s a tisfy au d ien ces' voracious a p p e tite
fo r W esterns. If his play H esper (1903) m ight h ave been a b it ah ead o f its tim e,
141
th e y e ar 1907 c e rta in ly seem ed rig h t fo r a n o th e r G arland W estern play, The
O utlaw of B lizzard B asin.
D esp ite its g arish title , The O utlaw o f B lizzard Basin is by fa r G arland's
b e st play w ith a W estern s e ttin g , Indian plays included. It also re fle c ts morej
! j
h ard w ork of revision th an G arland ty p ic a lly gave to his plays, or m ost other!
w orks fo r th a t m a tte r. The play is co m p lete b u t e sse n tially a long o n e -a cte r|
I
;that e x ists in th re e ty p e sc rip t v ersions, tw o of w hich a re in th e G arland P apers
I
j(#208a,b), and one is in th e possession o f G arlan d 's d a u g h ters. One o f th e
[typescripts in th e G arland P ap ers is co m p rised o f te n le av e s and ap p ears to
be an e a rly unfinished d ra ft (#208b). The ty p e sc rip t in th e possession of G arland's
i i
[daughters is tw elv e leav es; it is co m p lete and based on th e unfinished draft.;
I
T h e o th e r ty p e sc rip t in th e G arland P ap ers is a m ore n e a tly ty p ed fin al d raft'
i
o f n in e te en leav es th a t b ears th e stam p o f a New Y ork publishing house, th e
A m erican P lay C om pany (208a). This would su g g est G arland se n t th e play o u t:
fo r co n sid eratio n b u t had th e m an u scrip t re je c te d and re tu rn e d to him . The
A m e ric an P lay C om pany w as an im p o rta n t so u rce for licen sin g plays fo r sto ck
or a m a te u r pro d u ctio n s, w hen it w as th e exclusive a g e n t fo r such playw rights'
; I
jas C lyde F itch , C hanning Pollock, and even M ark Tw ain. (The ag en cy was
ev en tu ally absorbed by S am uel F ren ch , Inc.) In sending his play to th e m , G arland
w as try in g y e t a n o th e r p ath to th e th e a te r , fo r if th e A m erican P lay C om pany
a c c e p te d it fo r p u b licatio n , it would th en be m ade av ailab le to any group th a t
w ished to pay a fe e fo r th e rig h t to sta g e it.
But w hen th e A m erican P lay C om pany re je c te d The- O utlaw o f B lizzard
I
Basin, G arland a p p aren tly would n o t ta k e no fo r an an sw er and took o th e r stepsj
to p lace th e play. M ary Isab el G arland drops th is b it o f in fo rm atio n in herj
unpublished m em oir o f h e r fa th e r:
142
One day D addy took m e to see C ry sta l H erne play in a
vaudeville a d a p ta tio n of his R ocky M ountain sto ry , "The Outlaw",
and my f a te w as sea le d from th en on. The fo o tlig h ts, the.
snow -capped m ountains on th e backdrop, th e realism o f th e log
cabin, and th e flow ing golden h air o f The G irl, th e h ard youth’
o f th e handsom e O utlaw , th e te n se unfolding o f th e p lo t — I
could h ard ly w ait to g e t hom e and r e c re a te it for m yself. From;
th a t m om ent on, my s is te r and th e neighborhood young people!
w ere n e v er to know a m o m en t's p eace. It w as plays, p lay s, plays
from m orning to n ig h t. (F a th e r 14)
C h ry sta l H erne (1883-1950) w as th e d a u g h ter o f Jam e s A. and K ath erin e
H e rn e. She w as a p a rtic u la r fa v o rite o f G arlan d , who fondly re m e m b ered h er
jas a child from his B oston days. C h ry stal w as to becom e a w ell-know n a c tre s s
in h er own rig h t, b u t in 1907 she w as ju st s ta rtin g her c a re e r, to u rin g in a
vaudeville com pany. W hether o r n o t G arlan d pushed his play on th e child o f
his frien d s, C h ry stal did in d eed p erfo rm G arlan d 's play. This m ay be co rro b o rated ;
i
ay C h ry sta l H erne's le tte r s to G arland in w hich she speaks of h er vaudeville;
w ork, as w ell as by G arland's draw ings o f th e log cabin in th e play in his ty p e sc rip t.
|
in M ary Isabel's possession. Thus it w as The O utlaw o f B lizzard B asin in 1907
th a t w as G arland's firs t p ro fessio n ally p e rfo rm ed p lay, and n ot as previously
reliev ed , M iller o f B oscobel (1909). If th is w as n o t B roadw ay, th e n perhaps!
| i
G arlan d consoled h im self th a t m any a g re a t s ta r had s ta r te d o u t in vaudeville.® I
The O utlaw o f B lizzard Basin has som e m e rit in its co m p ressed tre a tm e n t;
of an outlaw w ith a h e a rt o f gold who e n co u n te rs th e g irl who can fin ally re fo rm
h im --if he could only g e t aw ay from th e sh e riff's posse. In th e play th e outlaw
M cC ord re tu rn s to his m o untain cabin h id eo u t only to find "a ch arm in g and
sp irite d " A lice M ansfield who to o k re fu g e in th e cabin w hen a sto rm cam e up.
A lice is m oved by M cC ord's sad sto ry th a t in a m om ent o f w eakness he pulled
a ro b b ery so as to fin an ce a m a rria g e to a fo rtu n e-h u n tin g h a rlo t. Save for
this one c rim e he has led a clean life , b u t now he is hunted by th e m erciless
s h e riff. A lice urges M cC ord to fle e , w hich he does, b u t in ste ad o f saving his
143]
own skin he quickly re tu rn s to p ro te c t A lice from th e rav ag es o f th e sto rm .
The s h e riff soon a rriv e s and M cCord is k illed in a sh o o t-o u t b u t not b e fo re he'
sw ears his love w ith his dying b re a th . A lice gives him th e kiss he had long desired:'
"G ood-bye, poor boy. God be m ercifu l to you."
J A lthough it is grandly b a th e tic , The O utlaw o f B lizzard Basin is
[intentionally so fo r a very im p o rta n t reaso n : G arlan d again is stag in g his own1
!death. R ec a ll th a t n e a r th e v ery sam e tim e in 1906 G arland w as stag in g his
own d e a th in his Indian e leg ies, The S torm C hild and W am desapa. D e a th w as
th e n e ce ssa ry p relu d e to re su rre c tio n if G arland w as to cling how ever te n ta tiv e ly
!to his b e lie f in ev o lu tio n ary p ro g ress. G arlan d was q u ite c le a r th a t 1907-09
w as th e lo w est po in t he had re a c h e d so fa r:
My co n v ictio n s co n cern in g my lite ra ry m ission w ere in pro cess
o f d isin te g ra tio n .
My ch ild ren , my m anifold d u ties as th e a tr ic a l u p -lifte r
and club p ro m o te r, to g e th e r w ith a sw ift le ttin g down o f my
m e n ta l and physical pow ers, cau sed me to q u estio n th e value
o f all m y w ritin g . I w ent so fa r as to say, "As a w rite r I have
fa ile d . . . ." (D au g h ter 332-33)
A cknow ledging th is kind o f lite ra ry d e a th , G arland began w h at he hoped
iwould be a re su rre c tio n by re tu rn in g to W est S alem , W isconsin, w h ere he had
e sta b lish e d his fa th e r. T h ere he began a slow m arch back th ro u g h tim e . The;
fir s t sto p w as his c a re e r as a p o litic a l ra d ic a l. He was induced by th eater!
p ro d u cer D onald R o b ertso n to ta k e up an old 1892 scen ario fo r a play c alled
"B usiness," based upon P ittsb u rg h 's s te e l m ill s trik e o f th e sam e y e a r. W orking
closely w ith a p ro d u cer fo r th e first tim e , G arland m anaged to finish M iller,
o f B oscobel w hich b ecam e a t long la s t his firs t play p erfo rm ed in a legitim ate^
!
th e a te r on Jan u a ry 28, 1909- j
i
M iller w as tr e a te d roughly by th e c ritic s , b ut G arland nevertheless]
trie d to ta lk h im self in to a new c a re e r as a p lay w rig h t, as a w ay o f personal!
jsalvation. Soon he w as in New Y ork to give an in te rv ie w to th e New Y ork T im es:
When it ap p ea re d on A pril 11, 1909, th e h eadline announced, "Why H am lin G arland
Finds W ider F ields in th e D ram a Than in th e W riting o f N ovels." S ev eral e x c e rp ts
i
m ay prove illum inating: i
I
t
T he peg on w hich th e in te rv ie w hung w as Mr. G arland's
re c e n t s ta te m e n t th a t he would h e re a fte r d ev o te h im self to
w ritin g plays. A su ccessfu l n o v elist m ay v ery w ell m ake excursions
in to th e d ram a, b u t th e re w as a fin a lity ab o u t Mr. G arland's
i an n o u n cem en t w hich prom ised so m eth in g in te re stin g . . . .
[G arland:] "This w hole co u n try is te em in g w ith in sp iratio n —and
i p len ty b esid es th e sex q u estion and S ocialism . N ot th a t I'd b ar
I th e se ; m y own play, 'The M iller o f B oscobel,' w hich R o b ertso n
has ju st pro d u ced is p re tty ra d ic a l. And th e re isn 't any reaso n
why sex p ro b lem s shouldn't be tr e a te d in th e d ram a. It a ll depends
i on a m an's m o tiv e . . . .
i
I
i " . . . b u t th e d ra m a tist m ust w ork through th e varying
J p e rso n a litie s of th e a c to rs. On th e w hole, I th in k th is is an
I a d v an tag e—if th e w rite rs w ill only re sp e c t a w rite r's te x t.
I R o b ertso n is th e only one I know who does th a t, though th e re
m ay be o th e rs who do. B ut th e d iffe re n c e b e tw ee n th e tw o form s
is not so g r e a t, and it is less to a c ra fts m a n th a n to an a m a te u r.
"I th in k I am o u t o f th e a m a te u r class; anyw ay, I've w ritte n
fiv e plays, and I've been a m an ag er, to o . . . . I've seen a good
d eal o f th e th e a te r from both sides o f th e fo o tlig h ts, and I believe
th a t it is, o r w ill be w hen it's p ro p erly co n d u cted , th e g re a te s t
so u rce o f a rtis tic and so cial ad v an ce."
G arland's e x p erien c e w ith M iller helped to re s to re him to th e ev o lu tio n ary
i
p e lie f in " a rtis tic and so c ia l ad v an ce." It w as a th e o ry he badly needed to hang
on to , w hich is w h at m o tiv a te d him to plunge in to th e founding of The C hicago
T h e a te r S o ciety . B ut a f te r se v e ra l y ears o f tire le s s a c tiv ity , G arlan d found
I
I
jthat his dream o f th e a te r re fo rm once again bum ped in to th e re a lity o f the|
th e a t e r business. In a f it o f pique G arland com p lain ed to The M orning T ele g ra p h ,
of New York:
"The A m erican p layw right is n o t so anxious to produce a good
w ork as to own a lim ousine—our th e a tric a l su ccesses a re n o t
good w ork—th e y a re raw , cheap, childish and ep h em eral." (7 Ja n
1912) l
W hat had ap p ea re d to be th e po ssib ility o f re b irth w as in fa c t a false
i
re su rre c tio n , leaving G arland rig h t back w here he s ta r te d a t th e p o in t o f a rtis tic
d e a th . With nothing le ft to do, G arlan d in 1913 tu rn e d to his m an u scrip t o f
i
w h at would b ecom e A . Son o f th e M iddle B o rd er. A second—and
jp erm an en t—re su rre c tio n w as n e a r w hich would fin ally bring him back to New
iyork to sta y .
*
I H ow ells once te rm e d it "a loss to our th e a te r" th a t H am lin G arland
w as n ev er able to g e t his s to rie s from M ain-T ravelled R oads up on th e sta g e ,
jw h eth er or n o t H ow ells w as only being kind to an old frien d , his re m a rk a t le a st
I i
i
■signifies his co g n izan ce o f th e d ep th o f G arland's th e a tr ic a l am b itio n s.
i ;
R e p e a te d ly during his w ilderness y ears o f 1893-1916, G arland trie d to win an1
I
id e n tity in New Y ork as a p lay w rig h t. Now he ap p ro ach ed New Y ork o nce more,
in 1914 w ith his au to b io g rap h y . If, th is tim e , th e p rice o f a n am e in New York
w as th e ab an d o n m en t o f th e d ram a fo r au to b io g rap h y , G arland w as w illing toj
pay it. New Y ork had alw ays been th e p riz e , as G arland ex p lic itly s ta te d in
I !
| l 904 th ro u g h his c h a ra c te r in The L ight o f th e S ta r:
l
A fte r all, th is is our g re a t c ity . It is th e only p lace w here life
is diverse enough to give w hat th e d ra m a tis t re q u ire s. I begin
to u n d erstan d w hat th e a c to rs fe e l w hen th e y draw a long b re a th
and say, "Thank God! I'm in New Y ork." j
It's th e only c ity w here one can be judged by his peers.!
I suppose th a t is one reaso n fo r th e feelin g I have fo r it. j
Yes it's w orth conquering. I’ ll m ake my m ark on it yet.j
It's a c ity on a hill—to ta k e it brings g re a t glory and la stin g honor.]
(258)
G arland m ight not have im agined th a t he would be fifty -se v e n y ears
I
old w hen th is d ream fin ally c am e tru e a f te r th e book p u b licatio n of A . Son of;
I
th e M iddle B order in 1917. B ut w hen his glory and honor cam e, he re v e le d in
it, p lay w rig h t or no p lay w rig h t. In th e sense th a t th e w orld w as only th e n g e ttin g
146
to know H am lin G arland, his d ram a c a re e r w as ju s t a b o u t to begin. W ith a new.
i
id e n tity as a son o f th e M iddle B order and a s e a t b eside H ow ells in th e A m erican
A cadem y o f A rts and L e tte rs in 1918, G arlan d would soon be back in business
jas th e w atch d o g o f A m erican d ram a—b u t th is tim e from th e inside o f th e New!
! I
Y ork e sta b lish m e n t. !
I
I
147
NOTES TO CHAPTER FOUR
1 Ja n e F ran c e s E arley has d e a lt th oroughly w ith G arlan d ’s play in h er
d isse rta tio n , ”An E dition o f H am lin G arland's M iller of B oscobel," N o rth w estern ,
1969.
2 This is an a u to g rap h le c tu re m an u scrip t e n title d , ’’A ddress to
D ra m a tis ts.'' A t th e end o f th e firs t p arag rap h tra n sc rib e d h ere th e wordsj
j"organized . . . S h u b erts” have been c an c e lled by G arland b u t a re re s to re d h e re . J
I i 1
* * T hroughout th e te x t G arland spells his c h a ra c te r's n am e as bothj
l"W elcom e,” and "W ellcom e." In re fe rrin g to th e c h a ra c te r I h ave ad o p ted thei
fo rm er spelling sin ce th is is th e one used on th e title page and th e one m ore
'often used in th e te x t.
I
4 gee D ra m a tic C om positions C o p yrighted in th e U nited S ta te s 1870-19161
jVol 1 (W ashington: L ib rary of C ongress, 1918): 289.
| 5 H illiard B ooth and H am lin G arlan d exchanged le tte r s in 1907 o v er
a d ra m a tiz a tio n Booth w ished to p re p a re o f C a p ta in . Booth n e v er began th e
p ro je c t. .
| 6 In a p re se n ta tio n copy of th e firs t ed itio n o f th e book o f The L ig h t*
o f th e S ta r, housed in th e D oheny L ib rary , G arland in scrib ed th is m essage to
A. G. B eam an: "This sto ry w as su g g ested to m e by a v isit behind th e scen es
w ith Ju lia A rth u r. The d iffe re n c e b etw een h er v ery serio u s c h a ra c te r as a w om an
and th e lurid p o sters w hich re p re se n te d h e r as an a c tre s s in te re s te d m e."
' Ju lia A rth u r (1869-1950) w as an acco m p lish ed a c tre s s who firs t won
stard o m in _ A L ady o f Q u ality (1897). She w ent on to play m any ro les from
S h ak esp eare, O scar W ilde, and G eorge B ernard Shaw , and re tire d in 1924.
? H ow ells also c o n trib u te d to th is forum w hich w as p re c ip ita te d by
Ju les V erne's d ire p re d ic tio n th a t th e novel would soon be su p p lan ted by th e
n ew spaper as th e b e st re c o rd o f hum an h isto ry and psychology.
« i
8 This in fo rm atio n ap p ears on p. 13 o f M ary Isab el G arlan d ’s unpublished,
m em oir o f h e r fa th e r. The m an u scrip t is in th e possession of th e G arland fam ily , j
9 G arland also tu rn e d th e play in to a sto ry se ria liz e d in L adies H om e
Jo u rn al as "The O utlaw and th e G irl" (M ay-July 1908).
CHAPTER FIVE
AN APOSTLE OF ANTIMODERNISM
i
t
1917-1940
In 1934 G arland had th is to say ab o u t th e s ta te of New Y ork's d ra m a tic
c ritic ism in A ftern o o n N eighbors;
j T he g e n eral to n e o f our d ra m a tic c ritic ism to d a y , like
j our d ram a, is ch eap and se lf-c o m p la c e n t. As I re a d th e daily
I co m m en t on books and plays and public perso n ag es, I am filled
! w ith disgust. T he q u a litie s w hich H ow ells sto o d fo r have alm o st
' to ta lly gone o u t o f our jo u rn als. All th a t I hold valu ab le is being
c a s t asid e. I would n o t m ind th is so m uch if th e new co n cep ts
i w ere n o t e sse n tially lo c al. T hese new sp ap er ju d g m en ts in New
i Y ork C ity a re m ostly penned by m en o f Jew ish , Polish, or S lavic
| p a re n ta g e who know only New Y ork C ity . Such c o ck -su re w ritin g
m akes us a joke in England and F ran c e . We a re n o t e n tire ly
j a n a tio n o f 'boobs,' alth o u g h our new spapers and our m otion
! p ic tu re s c o n triv e to m ake us seem such. (161)
j H ere G arland w as quoting from an e n try in his own d iary o f M arch 6,
1924. W hatever one m ay th in k o f th e view s ex p ressed h ere, th e y w ere
un q u estio n ab ly based on first-h a n d e x p e rie n c e . F rom th e tim e th e G arlands
m oved back to New Y ork in 1916 u n til th e y re tire d to Los A ngeles in 1929,
i
,they saw hundreds o f c u rre n t plays. One o f th e se w as th e B roadw ay phenom enon
o f A bie's Irish R ose w hich had 2,327 p e rfo rm a n c e s a t th e F ulton T h e a te r from
i
1922-1928. G arland saw it in May o f 1924 and had th is to say:
!
"M ary A ustin, as th e m istre ss o f cerem o n ies, p laced me,
in a box from w hich I could see very little o f th e a c tio n ; b u t
th a t did n o t m a tte r—th e p ie ce w as m ostly ta lk . To se v e ra l o f
our c ritic s it is 'th e p o o rest play in to w n .' In tru th I found it-
am azin g ly n aiv e and com m o n p lace. I can n o t a c c o u n t fo r its
astounding run. I liste n e d to its w orn ph rases and c o n v en tio n al
plot w ith w onder. It p ic tu re d th e love of a young Jew fo r th e
d a u g h ter o f an Irish p o litic ia n , and its hum or a ro se from th e
b ick erin g o f th e tw o fa th e rs-in -la w co ncerning a child w hich
w as born to th e young couple.
It w as all n o rm al, kindly and e n tire ly fre e o f in d e c e n t
je s t, a m ix tu re o f cru d e fa rc e , fa m ilia r jokes, p reach in g o f th e
G olden R u le, and th e ab o litio n o f ra c ia l p reju d ice. P lay in g stro n g ly
on th e d o m estic and th e se n tim e n ta l sides o f Jew ish and Irish
I
_______________ fam ily life , it has su cceed ed in p leasin g b o th ra c e s. Em ploying
a ll th e th e a tr ic a l tric k s, it gives o ff an a ir o f sin c e rity o f purpose.
It is not lite r a tu r e , and it is n o t good d ram a; b u t I wish fo r it;
a long run, as a d elig h tfu l good-w ill serm o n . P erh ap s Mrs. A ustin
was rig h t in saying th a t it is our m ost re p re se n ta tiv e A m erican
play." j
[This sw e e t and w holesom e play w en t on th e ro ad for
j se v e ra l y e a rs —it m ay s till be playing—and w as applauded by
m illions. I like to th in k o f it as an o ffs e t to our "so p h istic a te"
! d ram a. A fte r a ll, m ost o f us a re c o n cern ed w ith th e w holesom e
side o f life .] (N eighbors 17 2)* !
i
The tw o e x c e rp ts p re se n te d above illu s tra te fo u r p o in ts to be m ade
ab o u t G arland's d ram a c a re e r during 1917-40. F irst, fa r from tu rn in g his back
bn th e th e a te r a f te r th e su ccess o f A Son o f th e M iddle B order, G arland b ecam e
|
'm ore a c tiv e th an ev er. Indeed i t m ay be arg u ed th a t his in flu en ce upon A m erican
d ra m a w as th e m ost p o w erfu l it had e v er been b ecau se o f his c an o n izatio n as
a v en erab le D ean of A m erican L e tte rs .
Second, G arland's n o tio n o f w hat could be d efin ed as "A m erican " b ecam e
i
in creasin g ly xenophobic, as th e firs t re fe re n c e above to "m en o f Jew ish , Polish,
or Slavic p a re n ta g e " m ight su g g est. One o f th e m any iro n ies o f G arland's long
life is how th e re fo rm e r who cam p aig n ed fo r v o tin g rig h ts fo r N egroes, Indians,
I
and w om en deplored th e e f f e c t w aves o f im m ig ran ts w ere having on'
i
i
A nglo-A m erican so c ie ty . This a ttitu d e obviously co lo red G arland's d ra m a tic
ju d g m en t. G arland's xenophobia, how ever, should be view ed as re p re se n ta tiv e ,.
I 1
n o t e x cep tio n al, during an ag e in w hich th e p o litic a l code w ord for!
I
A nglo-A m ericanism used by th e R epublican p a rty w as "norm alcy."
T hird, th is w as th e period in w hich G arlan d cau g h t up w ith h im self in;
i
his published au to b io g rap h ies. T h a t is, he w as w ritin g o f e v en ts c lo se r and closer!
!
to th e tim e o f com position. The above e x c e rp ts from A ftern o o n Neighbors!
(1934) w ere a c tu a lly w ritte n less th a n eig h t y e ars a f te r th e e v en ts Garland)
speak s o f. In a Son o f th e M iddle B order (1917), fo r ex am p le, G arlan d was
i
1
presen tin g m a te ria l th a t w as fro m tw e n ty to f if ty y e ars in th e p a st. The p o in t:
is th a t G arland's published co m m e n taries on th e d ram a w ere v irtu ally
c o n tem p o rary tra n sc rip tio n s from his d iaries w hich can be ta k e n to r e f le c t
his c u rre n t view s during th is perio d . This is unlike th e c ase in Son in w hich
j !
h e w as re c o n stru c tin g a m ythic p erso n al h isto ry in w hich d ram a dropped o u t
o f th e sto ry . Now w ith his lite ra ry re p u ta tio n se c u re , and w ith his p a st "used
i
jup" in fo u r M iddle B order au to b io g rap h ies, G arlan d p ro ceed ed w ith fo u r more^
volum es o f p erso n al m em oirs. In th e se th e re is a profusion o f co m m e n tary
on c u rre n t d ram a fo r th e sim ple reaso n th a t so m uch o f his c u rre n t life w as
sp en t in and around it. F u rth e rm o re , th e d ra m a now b ecam e fo r G arlan d , th e
in v e te ra te re fo rm e r, an im p o rta n t b a ttle g ro u n d on w hich to w age his w ar ag ain st
m odernism . The e m erg en c e o f Eugene O’N eill fin ally m ade th e A m erican d ram a
"d iscu tab le," to use a te rm H enry Ja m e s had ap p lied to th a t once ignored fo rm ,
th e novel. I w ill show in a m om ent how th e e n c o u n te r o f H am lin G arlan d versus
!
Eugene O 'N eill sym bolized th e stru g g le b e tw ee n contending lite ra ry and cu ltu ral'
i
m o v em en ts b etw een th e tw o World W ars.
»
The fo u rth and m ost im p o rta n t point to be draw n from G arlan d 's dram a;
c o m m e n ta rie s lik e th e ones above is th a t th e y w ere d e lib e ra te serm o n s issued^
from one who had s e t h im self up --in d eed , had a ch iev ed his v ery n o tio n of s e lf—asj
th e old m an o f an tim o d ern ism . It w ill do h e re to re d e fin e te rm s, especially!
t
sin c e I have e a rlie r c ite d T. Jack so n L ears' th e sis th a t sin ce 1880 an tim o d ern ism
w as th e p rev ailin g A m erican e th ic .
L ears has d efin ed a n ti m odernism in a b ro ad er c u ltu ra l c o n te x t, rath er,
I
th a n in its p u rely lite ra ry fo rm atio n . In b rie f, a n ti m odernism began in th e la te
1
n in e te e n th cen tu ry as a reco ilin g from th e e th ic o f d e sa n c tific a tio n im posed
by D arw in and tech n o lo g ical ad v an ce. The sp iritu a l hom elessness cau sed by
in creasin g se c u la riz a tio n fo rce d m any like G arland to grope for a re p la c e m e n t
1 5 1
? or th e lo st gods in a new th e ra p e u tic q u e st fo r s e lf-re a liz a tio n . In th e la te
! I
I
1890's, th is q u est to o k m any p a th s. In lite r a tu r e th is led to ro m an ces o f a c tio n
and esc a p e, o ffe re d a t le a s t to som e e x te n t by F ran k N orris and Ja c k London,
b u t c e rta in ly ex em p lified by th e b e st-se llin g books in A m erica o f 1895, 1900,
and 1905, re sp e c tiv e ly : B eside th e Bonnie B rier Bush by Ian M aclaren, To H ave
j I
and to Hold by M ary Jo h n sto n , and The M arriag e o f W illiam A she by M rs.‘
i
H um phrey W ard. And le s t such ro m a n tic fic tio n be seen as a fad, n o te th a t
th e b e st-se llin g book in A m erica in 1920 w as Z ane G rey's The Man o f th e F o re st,
I
in 1930 it w as Edna F e rb e r's C im a rro n , and in 1940 it was R ich ard L lew ellyn's
How G reen Was My V alley (A lm anac 98-99).
G arland's own W estern fic tio n 1898-1916 w as p a rt o f such an tim o d ern
i
lite r a tu r e . B ut fo r G arlan d perso n ally , his w ritin g w as m erely a b y -p ro d u ct
I
o f his p a rtic ip a tio n in th e an tim o d ern driv e to w a rd s e lf-re a liz a tio n th rough
i
a u th e n tic e x p erien c e . This im pulse is w hat cau sed G arland's in c essan t to u rs
L th e F a r W est as a w ay o f d em o n stratin g R o o se v e ltia n m anly v ita lity . G arland's
prim ary goal a t th is tim e w as to reco m b in e a fra g m e n te d se lf th ro u g h actio n .
'Even by 1915 th e re had n o t y e t co alesced in th e U n ited S ta te s th e lite ra ry
m o v em en t we now id e n tify as m odernism . Indeed, A m erica had m anaged in
e f f e c t to kill o ff its b e st hopes in C ran e, N orris, and London. D reiser's Sister!
.C arrie w as k ep t a s e c re t by its publisher, and E zra Pound found it n ecessary
I
to le av e for Europe in 1908, as did R o b ert F ro st in 1912, and T. S. E liot in 1914.
So G arland as a pre-W orld W ar I a n tim o d e rn could n ot have seen h im self as'
I
p rin cip ally opposed to a lite ra ry m o v em en t, b u t r a th e r to a dehum anizing!
tech n o lo g ical m ode fo r living th a t p re v e n te d one from ex p erien cin g directly!
!
th e b eau ty o f n a tu re . i
152
H ow ever once G arland re tu rn e d to New Y ork his v ery su ccess w ith
jthe book p u b licatio n of A Son o f th e M iddle B order in 1917 cau sed an unavoidable|
p roblem . H aving fin ally ach iev ed a long-sought id e n tity as a n in e te e n th c e n tu ry
I
1
A m erican a u th o r, G arland would have to rem ain in New Y ork to assu re his s ta tu s
i 7 i
I ;
! and th is would in ev itab ly put him fa c e to fa c e w ith th e lo st g e n e ra tio n o f lite ra ry
i
m o d ern ists who w ere a t la s t defining th e tw e n tie th cen tu ry A m erican au th o r.|
p a r la n d could e ith e r g racio u sly a c c e p t his s ta tu s as an anachronism o r he could'
fig h t back. Like th e m e lo d ra m a tic h ero, he chose to fig h t b ack . This tim e
i E
G arlan d th e an tim o d e rn ist w as q u ite openly seeking th e d e fe a t o f lite ra ry
i
m o d ern ism . G arland had p len ty o f com pany, fo r it w as not m ere w ishful th in k in g
I
.which p ro m p ted him to pronounce, "A fte r all, m ost o f us a re c o n cern ed with;
i
jthe w holesom e side o f life" (N eighbors 172). When in Ja n u a ry 1918 G arland
i .
i
,was e le c te d to th e A m erican A cadem y o f A rts and L e tte rs , he saw h im self
i
i
kn ig h ted to a new cru sad e "to unify th e e s th e tic fo rce s o f th e n atio n "
t
(B ack -T railers 79). N ot long b e fo re , as ev id en ce o f his new p ro m in en ce, Garland!
I
jwas ap p o in ted to th e d ram a ju ry o f th e new ly e stab lish ed P u litz e r P riz e . Garland!
i ■
jwas now w ell-p laced to le ad th e a ssa u lt on m odernism and a fo rm id ab le ta rg e t,
loom ed: Eugene O’N eill. I
; i
!
I
|
It m ight be said th a t in Eugene O 'N eill G arland had c re a te d his ownj
i
m o n ster. T he little th e a te r o f th e P ro v in ceto w n P lay ers th a t n u rtu re d Eugene!
O’N eill from 1916 u n til his firs t B roadw ay play in 1920, Beyond th e H orizon,^
w as a d ire c t d escen d en t o f th e little th e a te r m ovem ent th a t G arland beganj
w ith th e F irst Independent T h e a te r A sso ciatio n and co n tin u ed w ith T he Chicago!
T h e a te r S o ciety . G arland w as q u ite c o rre c t in p re d ic tin g th a t th e new A m erican
p lay w rig h t would n o t be born u n til little th e a te rs could provide him a m ore
153
lite ra te au d ien ce. B ut he w as w rong in believ in g th a t such au d ien ces would
sh are his ta s te fo r serm ons dressed up in re p re se n ta tio n s o f "re a l life."
G arland could m ake th is m isjudgm ent fo r tw o reaso n s. One w as th a t
I
he did n o t a n tic ip a te th a t little th e a te rs would draw th e ir audien ces from th e
ranks o f th e w e ll-e d u ca te d . G arland n e v er a tte n d e d co lleg e and had little
u n d erstan d in g o f th e grow ing num bers o f u n iv e rsity m en and w om en whose'
ed u catio n s valued g re a te r e x p e rim e n ta tio n and p e rm itte d a m ore rigorous'
in te lle c tu a l cu rio sity th a n G arland's could. The o th e r reaso n w as th a t G arland
Jcould n o t a n tic ip a te th e a f f e c t on th e d ram a by th e a d v en t o f th e m otion p ic tu re .
S u ffice it h e re to say th a t th e th e a te r could n o t c o m p ete fo r au d iences w ith
a m ovie c a m e ra cap ab le o f providing p h o to g rap h ic re a lism . Nor could th e th e a te r
(
I
co m p ete w ith a m ovie in d u stry w hose eco n o m ics o f pro d u ctio n en ab led it to
m e et th e dem and o f th e m ass au d ien ce fo r ro m an ce and m elodram a. No longer
holding a m onopoly on public e n te rta in m e n t, th e th e a te r needed new reaso n s
i
to e x ist. W ith th e rise o f th e little th e a te r , th e d ra m a th u s b ecam e m ore th e
genre o f ex p lo ratio n and e x p e rim e n ta tio n .
Like it or n o t, G arland w as stu ck w ith Eugene O 'N eill. It w as an
in d ic a tio n o f th e fie rc e n e ss o f G arland's an tim o d ern ism th a t he re g a rd ed O 'N eill
as an a b e rra tio n , w hich indeed in one sense he w as. D esp ite his s h o rt-te rm
pessim ism ab o u t A m erican c u ltu re , G arland s till clung to th e th e o ry of so cia l
I I
ev o lu tio n . In th e long ru n G arland alw ays saw pro g ress. For th e tim e being,!
G arland b elieved, O 'N eill and o th e r p lay w rig h ts would ap p eal to th e gross side!
o f people who co u ld n 't discipline th e m selv e s. B ut ev en tu ally as A m ericans
b ecam e disciplined in th e ir a r tis tic ta s te s —th an k s o f course to public arb ite rs'
(
like G arland—th e y would re je c t w h at G arlan d re g a rd ed as m ere sensualism^
fo r th e a e s th e tic b e a u tie s o f th e d ram a o f u p lift. G arland's specious reaso n in g
1 5 4 1
I
re s u lte d from his ig n o ran ce o f who co m p rised O 'N eill's au d ien ces. F a r from
th e u n refin ed rab b le G arland assum ed th em to be, O 'N eill's au d ien ces w ere
^instead re a d e rs o f H. L. M encken's T he S m a rt S e t m ag azin e, w hose co-editorj
G eorge J e a n N athan published som e of O 'N eill's o n e -a c te rs and w ro te frequentlyj
and p e rc e p tiv e ly o f O 'N eill's w ork. G arlan d u n d e re stim a te d th e in te lle ctu alj
c a p a c ity and in te g rity of th e lite ra ry m o d ern ists. j
I
H. L. M encken's e x co riatio n o f H am lin G arland is w orth n o tin g fo r the|
jlight it sheds on th e dynam ics o f A m erican c u ltu re o f th e 1920's. M encken'
h ad sav ag ed A _ Son o f th e M iddle B order, callin g G arland in 1919 "A S tra n g e r
|on P arnassus" who had little claim to th e title o f a rtis t:
I
I A m erican c ritic ism , w hich alw ays m istak es a p o ig n an t
' docum ent fo r a e s th e tic form and o rg an izatio n , g re e te d th e se
m oral volum es as w orks o f a r t, and so G arland found h im self
I
i an a c c e p te d a r tis t and has m ade sh ift to be an a r tis t e v e r sin ce,
j No m ore g ro tesq u e m iscastin g o f a dilig en t and w orthy m an is
' re c o rd ed in p ro fan e h isto ry . He has no m ore feelin g fo r th e
! in trin sic d ignity o f b eau ty , no m ore com prehension o f i t as a
| th in g in its e lf, th an a po licem an . He is, and alw ays has been,
a m o ralist en d eav o rin g in e p tly to tra n s la te his m essian ic passion
in to a e s th e tic te rm s, and alw ays failin g . (P re ju d ice s: F irs t S eries
q td in N agel 145)
M encken's rev iew o f G arland's c a re e r, from w hich th e q u o te above is,
I
th e le a s t b ru ta l p o rtio n , can n o t be easily dism issed, for it is e sse n tia lly tru e .
The a tta c k , how ever, loses som e o f its stin g fo r G arland's a ffa b le ag reem en tj
w ith it. '
G arland n e v er m ade any e f f o r t to hide his m oralism , ow ning up th at!
his w ritin g s w ere serm o n s, and once callin g his body o f w ork m ed io cre save
fo r a few p arag rap h s. G arland re a d M encken's book in w hich th is rev iew ap p eared ,
saying w ith a good d e al o f g ra c e :
I
M encken s e ts down m any tru e sayings but spoils his c ase byi
ov erem p h asis. When any c ritic calls a ll th e o th e r w rite rs o f
his tim e fa n a tic s or m orons, announcing h im self as th e only m an
of p e rc ep tio n , he leav es a poor im pression on his re a d e rs. . . .
155 1 ,
j
I finished his book w ith a sense o f being e n te rta in e d as by a 'cut-up';
a t a d in n er ta b le . (N eighbors 247) j
The p o in t is th a t a f te r 1917 G arland n e v e r saw h im self as an a r tis t
so m uch as a s e lf-a d m itte d a ris to c ra t who w a n ted to te a c h A m erica w h at its
! ' I
I i
lite ra ry h e rita g e should be. W hat M encken does n o t ex p lic itly acknow ledge
is th a t in one sen se he and G arland w ere bo th co n se rv a tiv e s fig h tin g on th e
sam e side fo r th e sam e goal b u t w ith d iffe re n t ta c tic s . M encken, lik e G arland,
jdistrusted and fo u g h t a g ain st th e u n iv ersity p ro fesso rs whom he b elieved
a u th o riz e d a m oribund tra d itio n a lism . The tw o also sh ared a d iste m p e r fo r
Jcontem porary A m erican popular c u ltu re and both w orked fo r hig h er lite ra ry
stan d a rd s. B ut w here M encken v alo rized su ch G arland progeny as D reiser,
Sherw ood A nderson, and S in clair Lew is, G arlan d —who knew all th re e and p raised
I :
a sp e c ts o f th e ir w ork—b eliev ed such lite ra ry m o d ern ists did n o t te ll th e "whole!
J i
tru th " o f life . G arland th u s w orked to include fo r c o n sid eratio n th e lite ra tu re
o f optim ism .
M encken's allusion to G arland as a p o licem an is re g re tta b le , given th e
frig h ten in g re so n an c e o f th e ap p ellatio n . Even though G arland had becom e
th e sta n d a rd b e a re r o f th e a n tim o d e rn ists, he n e v er san ctio n ed an antim odern)
| i
ta c tic th a t has been a fa v o rite to th is day: o ffic ia l cen sorship. To som e, G arlan d 1
m ay n o t d eserv e c re d it fo r ad h erin g to c o n stitu tio n a l rig h ts now ta k e n fo r
g ranted, b u t it should be n o te d th a t in th e tw e n tie th cen tu ry cen so rsh ip h a s1
I
i
peen th e p rim ary p o litic a l goal o f lite ra ry a n tim o d e rn ists. Indeed one do esn 't
usually becom e a n tim o d e rn unless th e re is a v isc e ra l sym p ath y w ith th e co n cep t
o f c o n tro l. But G arlan d 's an tim o d ern ism w as deeply p rincipled and ro o te d in'
values he had held sin ce his fa th e r re tu rn e d from th e C ivil W ar. G arlan d had!
i
genuine fa ith in th e re c titu d e o f his p o sitio n and th e in e v ita b ility of m oral)
progress w hich would m ake cen sorship re d u n d a n t. B esides, he h im self had been
156
th e v ic tim o f censorship w hen R ose o f D u tch er's C oolly (1895) w as banned in
'Boston fo r w hat W illiam M orton Payne te rm e d , "a rep u lsiv e la ck o f re tic e n c e ’
|
co n cern in g th o se d e ta ils o f th e sex problem th a t it should be th e firs t principle^
of w holesom e a r t to avoid" (The D ial 1 F eb 1896). G arland could have u nderstood
w h at O 'N eill su ffe re d w hen New Y ork p o lice closed dow n A ll God's C hillun G ot
I |
W ings (1924) becau se a b lack a c to r kissed a w hite a c tre s s . N ev er once did G arland
Jcall fo r censorship o f O 'N eill or anyone else, fo r he a d h ered v o cifero u sly to
Veron's d ictu m , "[The a rtis t] is fre e , ab so lu tely fre e w ithin his own province,
on th e one condition o f a b so lu te sin ce rity " (vii). :
It seem s y e t a n o th e r o f th e m any ironies o f G arland's c a re e r th a t hej
I
should assail O 'N eill fo r th e very kind o f sex u al candor o f w hich he had been ’
a p io n eer. B ut it's im p o rta n t to draw a d istin c tio n w ith re s p e c t to G arland's
I
jantim odern e th ic o f w holesom eness. G arland n e v er denied O 'N eill's pow er nor
i
t
t
his freed o m to ex p lo re hum an sexual re la tio n s; ra th e r G arland deplored w hat
i
he view ed as O 'N eill's obsession w ith sex. W hat G arland w as arg u in g fo r wasi
th e p rin cip le o f b a lan c e or p e rsp e c tiv e th a t h ad alw ays been fu n d a m e n tal to
his th e o ry o f realism as a p re se n ta tio n o f ev ery d ay life as one a c tu a lly sees
it lived. H ere again G arlan d w as re ite ra tin g c ritic a l positions he had s e t out|
th ir ty y ears b e fo re in "Ibsen as D ra m a tist" (1890), in w hich he p raised The E nem yi
| j
o f S o ciety b ecau se, "Love plays in it but th e sm all p a rt it should; o th e r ideas
I j
and em otions absorb us" (A ren a 79). As G arland a ss e rte d in th e sam e essay,
'S exual a ttra c tio n s , p e rp le x itie s, in trig u es, do n o t form life b u t only a p a rt
o f life" (73). So although O 'N eill h im self acknow ledged Ibsen as an im p o rta n t
in flu en ce, G arland w ould have arg u ed th a t O 'N eill w as m isreading Ibsen. If;
| I
from G arland's point o f view O 'N eill w as g u ilty o f m isread in g Ibsen it m ay have
been b ecause O 'N eill's g e n e ra tio n had a cc e ss to F reu d ian psychology in a w ay
157
^Garland's n ev er did. Even in praising Ibsen in 1890, G arland added th e c a v e a t,
"T here is a s tra in o f m orbid psychology h e re and th e re in one o r tw o o f th ese'
dram as w hich I do n o t c a re for" (A rena 80-81). It w as p recisely th is m o rb id ity
which O ’N eill w as c o n stitu tio n a lly and in te lle c tu a lly p rep ared to ex p lo re, in
p art b ecau se he was equipped w ith th e new F reu d ian v o cabulary o f w hich Garland^
|Was stu d io u sly ig n o ran t. I
j O 'N eill th u s p re se n te d G arland w ith so m eth in g o f a m o ral dilem m a'
o nce G arland had been ap p o in ted to th e P u litz e r P rize ju ry in 1917. The w ill
o f Josep h P u litz e r w hich e sta b lish e d th e aw ard s stip u la te d th is as th e se le c tio n
I i
c rite ria fo r b e st play: i
I
! F or th e orig in al A m erican play p erfo rm ed in New Yorki
w hich sh all b e st re p re se n t th e ed u ca tio n a l value and pow er ofj
j th e sta g e in raisin g th e sta n d a rd o f good m orals, good ta s te and!
I good m anners. (M antle 660)2 ;
[
G arland h im self could n o t have w ritte n a p re scrip tio n fo r d ra m a tic ’
ju d g m en t any m ore e x p lic itly d id a c tic , and he gladly took P u litz e r's w ords as
I
i
his m arching o rd ers as he s ta r te d in w ith th e ev alu atio n o f plays. On th e one
i
lan d th e P u litz e r c rite ria gave G arland a co n v en ien t ex clu sio n ary principle.
i
w ith re g a rd to O 'N eill, b u t on th e o th e r G arlan d duly acknow ledged th a t O 'N eill's
plays had m e rit and su rely tra n sce n d e d th e g e n e ra l fa re o ffe re d up by B roadw ay.
;Garland n e v er q u estio n ed O 'N eill's m o tiv es, and fo r G arland th e m o tiv es o f
a w rite r w ere o f p aram o u n t im p o rtan c e in d eterm in in g th e d iffe re n c e b e tw ee n
one who p an d ered to th e public's a p p e tite fo r th e salacio u s and one who seriously-
ex p lo red hum an sex u al re la tio n s. O 'N eill w as no m o n ster to G arlan d , fo r he
pould reco g n ize O 'N eill's serio u sn ess o f purp o se. Indeed G arland knew quite;
w ell th a t O 'N eill w as a stu d e n t o f G eorge P ie rc e B aker, a tte n d in g th e Professor's!
playw righting w orkshop a t H arv ard during 1914-15. But G arland's w orry w as
n ot so m uch th a t O 'N eill did n o t d eserv e th e P u litz e r or even th a t O 'N eill'S’ ’
158
plays did n o t m e et th e P u litz e r sta n d a rd o f " e d u c a tio n a l value," b ut th a t th e
ap p ro v al signified by th e P u litz e r P rize would give o th e r less con scien tio u s
p lay w rig h ts th e licen se to ex p lo it sex fo r p ro fit. G arland th u s reso lv ed his'
d ilem m a by ad h erin g scrupulously to th e le tte r o f th e P u litz e r language; if doing
so would throw th e baby o u t w ith th e b a th w a te r, so be it.
F or th e y e a r 1917 G arland saw no play o f m e rit and co n cu rred in th e
d ecisio n to give no aw ard . The n e x t y e ar, 1918, G arland had no difficulty!
approving o f Why M arry ?, a w itty though re la tiv e ly ta m e s a tire by Je sse Lynch1
I
I
j W illiam s who won th e aw ard. A gain in 1919 G arlan d w as happy w ith th e jury's
d e cisio n to give no aw ard , b u t 1920 posed a pro b lem b ecau se O 'N eill's Beyond
i I
;the H orizon w as under co n sid eratio n . G arland v o te d a g a in st it b u t did n o t
, i
com plain too loudly w hen it won O 'N eill his fir s t P u litz e r, for th e play w as a f te r
a ll a fa irly co n v en tio n al d e b a te o f realism versus ro m a n tic ism .3
H appily fo r G arlan d , his hand w as n o t fo rc e d during th e d e lib e ratio n
o v er th e aw ard fo r 1921. S ince O 'N eill’s Beyond th e H orizon had won th e y e a r
b e fo re , th e ju ro rs w ere given to look fo r a new c an d id a te anyw ay, th is d esp ite
th e a p p ea ra n ce th a t y e a r o f The E m peror Jo n e s. G arland w as su ccessfu l in
fo rm in g a com prom ise to aw ard th e P u litz e r to Zona G ale fo r h e r d ra m a tiz a tio n
o f h e r ow n novel, Miss Lulu B e tt. This sto ry o f a W isconsin sp in ste r who nobly!
endures th e m eanness o f sm all-to w n life u n til she finds th e m an she loves w as
p re c ise ly th e so rt o f play G arland proposed as a m odel fo r A m erican d ram a.
The follow ing y e a r th e d ram a ju ry fo r th e 1922 P u litz e r co n sisted of;
G arlan d , W illiam Lyon P helps, P ro fesso r o f English a t Y ale, and playw right'
I
Je ssie Lynch W illiam s. W illiam s w as a re p la c e m e n t fo r R ich ard B urton, an1
I
old G arland crony from th e P lay ers C lub. P helps and th e P rin c e to n -e d u c a te d
W illiam s w ere d ecid ed ly m ore urbane in th e ir ta s te s th a n G arlan d , and w h eJ
159
G arland m e t th e m a t th e Y ale C lub on M arch 4, 1922, to discuss P u litz e r
i
p o ssib ilities, G arland re c e iv e d bad new s:
Phelps and W illiam s arg u ed th a t ’A nna C h ris tie ,' O ’N eill's
play, has m ore pow er th a n any o th e r th is y e ar, and I am to see
it as a possible ch o ice. Thus fa r I have k ep t c le a r o f it. T he!
sto ry of it does n ot a t t r a c t m e. (C o n tem p o raries 400-01) |
[
G arland a p p a re n tly m anaged to k eep c le a r o f th e play fo r sev en w eeks
u n til Phelps w ro te G arland on A pril 25, 1922, to te ll G arland how he and W illiam s
!
jwished to p ro ceed:
| D ear H am lin:—
! . . . I w ill te ll you e x a c tly how I fe e l a b o u t th is thing.
: F irst w e have to re p o rt to C olum bia [U niversity] th e b e st
! play? w ith th e c o m p etitio n closing F eb ru ary 1st and in my ju d g m en t
I th a t gives "A nna C h ristie " th e firs t and "Thank You" [by W inchell
' Sm ith] th e second.
Now I th in k th a t Je sse W illiam s w ill a g re e w ith th is, and
j I fe e l p re tty su re th a t H am lin G arland w ill n o t. We m ay, th e re fo re ,
I have to hand in a tw o -th ird s v o te , unless H am lin has som e o th e r
! p ro position. (#3092)
i
! G iven th is th r e a t to p ro c e ed w ith o u t him , G arland w en t to see Anna
I
C h ristie and w ro te Phelps back condem ning it in no u n c e rta in te rm s . G arland
i
su g g ested th a t no aw ard be given ra th e r th a n to v io la te th e P u litz e r c rite ria
o f "raisin g th e sta n d a rd of good m orals." B ut Phelps w as a d a m a n t, th in k in g
it lu d icro u s to m ake no aw ard w hen a play th e q u ality o f Anna C h ristie e x iste d .
f
f
Phelps w ro te G arland on M ay 16 to inform him th a t th e y had o v e rru le d Garland!
| i
and reco m m en d ed O’N eill's play:
T hank you v ery m uch fo r your le tte r . As soon a s I gotj
your n o te from C hicago, I im m e d ia te ly w ro te to th e S e c re ta ry
of C olum bia th a t you had seen th e play and th a t you w ere not,
convinced; in f a c t th a t you v ery stro n g ly disapproved o f giving,
th e p rize to A nna C h ris tie . I said th a t Mr. W illiam s and I both;
th o u g h t th a t th e p rize should be given, and th a t it o u g h t to b e;
given to A nna C h ristie . Je ssie w an ted to give it to The H airy
A pe, b u t it seem ed to m e th a t A nna C h ristie w as b e tte r . (#3092)
1601
N ot only did Phelps p rev ail, he would n o t p e rm it G arland to w rite a
m in o rity opinion. Upon th e aw ard o f th e P u litz e r to O 'N eill, G arland th re a te n e d
to q u it th e ju ry , b u t w as convinced to sta y on.
I
T h ree y e ars la te r G arland trie d ag ain to resig n b u t re lu c ta n tly agreed
to co n tin u e on th e P u litz e r d ram a jury w hen his frien d A ugustus T hom as was
I
lunable to serv e. T h at season of 1924-25 w as a v in ta g e one fo r e x a c tly th e kind
I •
!of plays G arland w as sw orn ag ain st. The lead in g c an d id a te s w ere M axwell
i
A nderson's W hat P ric e G lory?, w hich fe a tu re d a W orld W ar I so ld ier's affair]
w ith a F ren ch v illag e girl; Sidney H ow ard's They Knew W hat T hey W anted, th e
[eventual P u litz e r w inner fo r a sto ry ab o u t a love tria n g le on a C alifo rn ia farm ;
I
land O 'N eill's D esire U nder th e Elm s, th a t ta le o f lu st on a New England farm
m ade no to rio u s w hen th e p o lice trie d to clo se it down. F aced w ith such
ia lte rn a tiv e s, G arlan d sh o t o ff a tira d e to his frien d B ran d er M atthew s:
i
! When F a c k e n th a l w ro te m e saying th a t Thom as w as unable
| to se rv e , I re p lie d by saying th a t I w as a poor m an to p u t on th is
■ ju ry fo r I w ould n o t v o te fo r any o f th e se pornographic plays.1
F a c k e n th a l m ore or less in sisted I s ta y on. Now th e sn arl I
a n tic ip a te d has com e up. As my n am e would be used as a m em ber
o f th e c o m m itte e w h e th er I ap p ro v ed o f th e play or n o t I have
ask ed F a c k e n th a l to drop m e from th e ju ry . I c a n 't publish one
th in g o v er my n am e and have th e P u litz e r C o m itte e publish m e
in ap p ro v al o f th e v ery th in g I d e te s t. I am sick o f th e se p ro stitu te;
plays. I d o n 't b eliev e any of th e m com e under th e P u litzer|
cond itio n s. T hey do n ot "m ake for good m anners or good m orals."
I fought th e aw ard to "Anna C h risty ", b u t w as o v erb o rn e by th e
o th e r m em bers of th e ju ry . I could n o t bring in a m in o rity report.]
It c re a te d a bad im pression to go a g a in st th e plain w ording o f
th e co n d itio n s o f th e aw ard . j
In a p arag rap h in LIFE n o t long ago, I le arn ed th a t if all
th e s tre e t-w a lk e rs d e lin e a te d in th e d ra m a th is y ear w ere to
w alk up F ifth A venue th e y would m ake th e lo n g est procession]
sin ce th e v isit o f Foch [F ren ch c o m m a n d er-in -c h ie f o f A llied
fo rc e s in W orld W ar 13. A p p aren tly none o f our d ra m a tis ts —or!
very few —a re in te re s te d in any o th e r ty p e o f w om an. This is
C o n tin e n ta l and n o t A m erican a r t. As for "W hat P ric e G lory"
it seem s to m e—and to H am ilto n —a w eak play w ith stro n g
lan g u ag e. A jo u rn a listic "slam " a t w ar, all w ell enough in its
w ay b u t not m aking fo r good m orals nor good m anners. (11 Mar
[1925] #2782)
161]
Such an o u tc ry m ay be ta k e n as th e ra n tin g o f an old m an, but in th e
case o f O 'N eill G arlan d 's o b jectio n s sp ran g from d eep er ro o ts. L ike G arland,
O 'N eill had used th e farm as an im p o rta n t s e ttin g fo r his e arly play Beyond
1 I
'the H orizon, and ag ain fo r D esire U nder th e E lm s, th e play G arlan d w as now'
fo rc e d to judge. B ut w h ereas G arland had only ju st co m p leted his p ro je c t to'
re m y stify th e farm w ith his version o f a p a sto ra l m yth in his firs t tw o Middle]
B o rd er books, O 'N eill w as going to th e farm to d e m y stify it and sev e r it fro n t
I
its s ta tic p a sto ra l tra d itio n , so as in p a rt to r e a tta c h it to c la ssic a l G reek m yths
as a w ay to re s to re a tra g ic consciousness to m odern m an. C o m p etin g on th e
sam e te r r ito r y as G arland, O 'N eill q u ite lite ra lly could p u t his M iddle B order
p u t o f p rin t.
' Even so, G arland's co n cern o v er O 'N eill w ent s till d eep er th a n O 'N eill's
i !
n ew er claim to th e public im ag in atio n . G arland subconsciously fe a re d what;
\ i
O 'N eill m ight re v e a l o f G arland to G arland h im self: th a t he w as s till a divided
m an cap ab le o f c a p itu la tio n to an im al sen su a lity . K eep in m ind th a t fo r G arland
an tim o d ern ism w as also a w ay to m ain tain psychological h e alth by re d ire c tin g
m orbid s e lf-re fle c tio n in to an e th ic o f a c tio n and p rogress. A ll his life G arland
had bound h im self up in s tr ic t so cial codes, fe a rin g th a t to le t go to passion
would le ad to a declin e in to m an as ape. S eeing D esire U nder th e Elm s in
i
jN ovem ber 1924 to u ch ed a n erv e in G arland he th o u g h t had been an esth e tiz ed .;
'His ex ten d e d re a c tio n to th e play s trik e s one as an g er a t O 'N eill fo r opening,
a wound he th o u g h t had h ealed : ;
i
The follow ing day I saw Eugene O 'N eill's "D esire U nder
th e Elm s," th e d ire c t o p p o site o f [Edna F erb er's] "M inick" ini
to n e and q u a lity . ■
"It is c a s t in th e p re se n t vogue fo r illic it love, b ru ta l speech,!
cy n ical philosophy and p re te n tio u s re a lism . In th is New England;
farm h o u se, th e a u th o r show s th re e sons ste a lin g from th e ir fa th e r's ’
c h e st, fig h tin g him and d e se rtin g him . The younger son sed u ces|
his s te p m o th e r and co n sp ires w ith h e r to kill th e b ab e. H e callSj
162
th e s h e riff, and th ey a re bo th led o u t h y ste ric a l w ith fe a r. The
lan g u ag e is in ten d ed to be stro n g b u t is wholly u n re a l. !
"It is a sta g e p iece, n o t a p ic tu re o f New England lifeJ
It is E uropean in th e w ay o f G orki, alien in to n e , and essentially!
fa lse . W ithout its m orbid sex u al scen es it would have no box
o ffic e a p p ea l. It fa ile d to m ove m e save to a d isg u st. Its
c h a ra c te rs a re ty p e s, n o t individuals, and th e sym bolism o f th e ir
a c tio n is so a rran g ed as to be co m ical. A gain and again th e old
m an com es from th e house to look o u t o v er th e lan d scap e and
says in p re c ise ly th e sam e to n e s, 'P re tty ! P re tty !' The farm
hands a re like th o se w e g e t in c e rta in b ru ta l Old W orld novels,
g reed y , le ch e ro u s and gro v ellin g . Such a play is esse n tially
deg rad in g . It o ffe rs no re d e em in g su g g estio n . It is a ll b itte r ,
I m orbid on th e th e sex u al sid e, and b asely d rab as a p ic tu re o f
life . It has no sh red o f p o e try to hide its nak ed ugliness. O 'N eill's
work has alw ays had a s tre a k o f b itte r m old in it and th is is m oldy
th ro u g h o u t."
[I am quoting th is c o m m en t as it was w ritte n im m ed iately
a f te r seein g th e play, and I see no re a so n fo r changing it. From '
th a t day to th is, O 'N eill has p lay ed upon th e strin g s o f m orbid
sex u al passion, and lik e his fellow s and his follow ers has found
such playing p ro fita b le . As I look b ack on our fic tio n and d ram a1
to d ay and re c a ll th e in creasin g sh am elessn ess o f th e ir d escrip tio n s
o f sed u ctio n , a d u lte ry and drunken o rg ia stic re v e ls, I am not
proud o f th e m , and I am p ersu ad ed th a t som e o f th e se w rite rs
w ill, th e m selv e s, be glad to have th e ir books sink o u t o f sig h t
in th is se a o f m uck. From th e se c e le b ra n ts o f lew d w om en, th e se
p ro p h ets o f pornography, I look aw ay to E m erson and H aw thorne
; and H ow ells w ith a sense o f re lie f.] (N eighbors 233-34)
i ;
i
Y et fo r all th e v eh em en ce o f such a n ti-O 'N e ill rh e to ric , G arland w as
|
w illing to give th e devil his due. A couple o f y e ars e a rlie r during his fir s t tour!
jof P u litz e r d u ty , G arland to o k his w ife to see The F irst Man, one o f O 'N eill's
less su ccessfu l plays o f th is period. G arland w as a ffe c te d by th is sto ry o f at
I
d e d ic a te d an th ro p o lo g ist w hose plans for an e x p ed itio n to find "th e firs t m an"
a re c o m p licated by his w ife's p reg n an cy , sin ce it bo re a re la tio n to his own
p erso n al c irc u m sta n c e s during th e e arly 1900's. G arlan d re c alls:
T h at n ig h t [M arch 15, 1922] m y w ife and I saw O 'N eill's
"F irst M an," a p ain fu l, dep ressin g , but o rig in al and p o w erfu l
play. "The a u th o r rid es his th e m e h ard b ut it is his own. This
is n o t a c a rp e n te re d p ie ce . It is w ritte n —like a sh o rt sto ry .1
S tran g e to say it does n o t seem th e a tr ic a l although p e rfe c tly
a d a p te d to a c tin g ." (C o n te m p o ra rie s 402)
1 6 3 ,
I
G arland's c ritic ism h e re is q u ite fa ir and p e rc e p tiv e , and in saying.
O 'N eill's th e m e "is his own" G arland in f a c t w as paying him th e highest'
i
I
co m p lim en t he could b esto w , sin ce he in sisted a ll his life along th e lines o f
I
Veron th a t:
If a m an can te ll us so m eth in g th a t has n o t b een to ld b efo re;
if he can add so m eth in g to th e lite r a tu r e o f th e w orld—a re a l
c re a tio n —if he can , lik e th e c o ra l in se c t, build his own little '
1 cell upon th e g re a t m ass o f English lite ra tu re , I do not c a re w h at’
you call him , nor w hat he calls h im self, he is w o rth y m y su pport,
i ("R ealism versus R o m an ticism " q td in R eed 521)
G arland n e v er w ent so fa r as to su p p o rt O 'N eill b ecau se he fe a re d a
p ro liferatio n o f O 'N eill im ita to rs. B ut by th e sam e to k en G arland co n tinued
i
jto g ra n t, a lb e it grudgingly, O 'N eill's w o rth in ess. O 'N eill did n o t w in th e P u litzer'
in 1925, b u t he did win his th ird o f fo u r P u litz e rs in 1928 w ith S tran g e In terlu d e,
by w hich tim e his re p u ta tio n as A m erica's g re a te s t p lay w rig h t w as assu red . It
is an in d icatio n o f G arlan d 's own p ro m in en ce th a t B a r re tt H. C la rk , O 'N eill's
■first b io g rap h er, in itia te d a c ritic a l d e b a te w ith G arland ov er O 'N eill, trying,
i
to g e t G arland to endorse O 'N eill m ore e n th u sia stic a lly . The tw o b e ca m e friends,,
!
b u t G arland n e v er e n tire ly y ielded. In 1933 C lark se n t G arlan d an in scrib ed
i
copy o f his rev ised stu d y , E ugene O 'N eill. The se v e n ty -th re e y e a r old G arland
re a d it and m ade a fu ll rep ly to C lark th a t stan d s as th e b est su m m atio n o f
G arlan d 's ap p ro ach to O 'N eill and m od ern ist lite ra tu re :
You have w ritte n a th o u g h tfu l, candid and fa ir exposition
o f O 'N eill. I d on't a rg u e w ith som e o f your ju d g m en t b ut th en
I'm ju st an old fogy who b eliev es th a t c iv iliz a tio n is b u ilt on
in hibitions. A ll th is ta lk o f "sex rep ressio n " is poppycock. Ofj
course w e have le arn ed c o n tro l—som e o f us—th a ts w hat life;
and so cia l o b lig atio n m ean. I have no p a tie n c e w ith F reudianism
or ta lk a b o u t th e aw fu l e f f e c t o f "p u ritan ism ."
I d o n 't like O 'N eill's v io len t and tu rg id plays and I am
w illing to be q u o ted as saying th a t te n y e ars from now he will
be—or th e se plays w ill be on th e d iscard . He m ay pull o u t o f
th e fog and m uck o f his p re se n t m eth o d —he is young enough
to do so. I v alu e your book b ecau se it does n o t p raise th e w rong
_______________ side o f th is po w erfu l, cru d e and stru g g lin g genius. The w orst!
164
side o f O 'N eill’ s plays is th e ir new s v a lu e . I doubt th e la stin g
q u ality o f a play w hich is s ta rtlin g as new s.—But th e n I belong
to a school w hich b eliev es in c e rta in law s o f c o n stru c tio n and
sim ple w ritin g . T h ere is fo rc e , passages o f c re a tiv e 1
c h a ra c te riz a tio n b u t no b e au ty as I see and fe e l b e a u ty . . . J
(22 Feb [1933?] #1318)
It is highly sig n ific a n t fo r G arland to bestow th a t m ost ch erish ed o f
i !
jR om antic title s "genius" on O 'N eill. O 'N eill h im self m ight have a sse n te d to;
G arland's d e sc rip tio n o f him as "pow erful, cru d e and stru g g lin g ." j
One w ishes, fin ally , not to d efen d G arland's ju d g m en t, b u t only to|
u n d erstan d it in th e c o n te x t o f m o ral and a r tis tic values G arland had held since1
I
a boy; to u n d erstan d it in th e c o n te x t o f p erso n al circ u m stan c es in w hich G arland
found h im self c a ta p u lte d in th e 1920's to a position as th e D ean o f A m ericanj
le tte r s w hich he to o k q u ite seriously; to u n d erstan d it in th e c o n te x t o f an
A m erican c u ltu re th a t w as fa r m ore ab so rb ed by C h arlie C haplin th a n Eugene
O 'N eill; and fin ally to u n d erstan d it in th e c o n te x t o f F itz g e ra ld 's J a z z Age
during w hich th e fresh g reen b re a st o f A m erica seem ed a c ru e l m yth. If Ham lin'
I
G arlan d 's an tim o d ern ism w as n o t an e th ic w hich lite ra ry h isto rian s have included
j
in th e ir n a rra tiv e s, th en le t it a t le a s t be n o te d as an e th ic w hich en ab led G arland
to su rv iv e during a p eriod in w hich th e d e c o n stru c tio n o f A m erica began.
i
* ' |
A lthough O 'N eill w as th e m ig h tie st o f th e figures G arland w as a g ain st J
fu rth e r insight to G arland's ap p ro ach to th e d ram a com es from acknow ledging
th e m any p lay w rig h ts he w as fo r. P rin cip al am ong th e se w ere a trio o f Britishj
play w rig h ts whom G arland had m et on his f ir s t trip to England in 1899: GeorgeJ
B ern ard Shaw, J . M. B arrie, and John G alsw o rth y . G arland c e m e n te d re la tio n s
i
w ith th em during fo u r trip s to England in su ccessiv e sum m ers o f 1922-1925J
The e x ten siv e co rresp o n d en ce b etw een G arland and th e se B ritish play w rig h ts
sp eak s o f m u tu al c o rd ia lity and re s p e c t. To his c re d it, G arland a s a re su lt o f
jthese friendships so fte n e d his life-lo n g lite ra ry jingoism and cam e to reco g n ize
the grow ing in te rn a tio n a lity o f m odern lite r a tu r e . j
G arland even w ent to th e o th e r e x tre m e by becom ing a stau n clf
jAnglophile, p a rtly b ecau se o f his p erso n al fe a r th a t grow ing num bers o f
non-E nglish im m ig ran ts to A m erica would have littl e re s p e c t for W hitm anesque
!
d em ocracy. It w as a fe a r he sh ared w ith m any o th e rs, including such in te lle c ts
i
as B rander M atthew s w hose call to exclude O rie n ta l im m ig ran ts in The A m erican
o f th e F u tu re (1909) m akes one w ince. B ut G arlan d w as m ost o f a ll a lite ra ry
A nglophile becau se in England he found a h isto ry A m erica so rely lack ed , and
in Shaw , B arrie, and G alsw orthy he found a sta n d a rd fo r th e m odern dram a,
^America so rely n eed ed . This sta n d a rd w as c o n s titu te d o f a d ram a m ore cereb ral;
th a n sensual, and m ore re p re se n ta tio n a l—m ore Ib se n ite —th a n e x p re ssio n istic ,
or B rech tian . Shaw 's plays o f id eas, B arrie's fa n ta sy alleg o ries, and G alsw orthy's
w ell-m ade so cial d ram as, a ll f it G arland's d id a c tic c r ite r ia fo r d ram a. G arland:
becam e th e u n o fficia l A m erican a g e n t for th e se th re e play w rig h ts, ex to llin g
jtheir v irtu e s to A m erican play w rig h ts who m ight follow th e ir exam ple.
And in d eed th e re w ere m any A m erican p lay w rig h ts whom G arland
oelieved w ere w o rth y o f his su p p o rt. G arlan d 's d ia rie s during th e 1920's andi
1930's m ake him so m eth in g o f a m odern Sam uel Pepys in th e asto n ish in g breadth;
| !
o f his co m m en tary on th e A m erican d ram a. S tu d en ts o f th e A m erican dram aj
who seek co n tem p o ran eo u s a cc o u n ts o f plays during th is period would do well;
to ch eck G arland's published m em oirs. A p a rtia l lis t o f p lay w rig h ts fo r whom
h elpful co m m en ts m ay be found a re : Zoe Akins, M axw ell A nderson, W itte r B ynner,
p e o rg e M. C ohan, M arc C onnelly, R ach el C ro th e rs, Edna F e rb e r, Zona G ale,
'Dubose H eywood, P ercy M acK aye, Booth T ark in g to n , A ugustus T hom as, and
i
Jessie Lynch W illiam s. This does n o t include b rie f m en tio n s o f dozens o f other;
A m erican and B ritish plays, nor does it include a n o th e r P u litz e r P riz e winning.
I
playw right who re s to re d G arlan d ’s fa ith in pro g ress: T h ornton W ilder. j
G arland saw W ilder a s th e d ire c t d e sc e n d en t o f Ja m e s A. H erne. In
'1928 G arland c o n g ra tu la te d W ilder on th e a p p e a ra n c e o f The A ngel T h a t T roubled
th e W aters and O th e r P lays, a c o lle c tio n o f six te e n sh o rt d ra m a tic sk etc h e s
i
w hich W ilder in tro d u ced in th is way:
A lm ost all o f th e plays in th is book a re relig io u s, b u t religious
in th a t d ilu te fashion th a t is a b eliev er's co n cessio n to a
co n tem p o rary sta n d a rd o f good m anners. . . . It is th e kind o f
i w ork I w ould m ost like to do w ell, in sp ite o f th e f a c t th a t th e re
i has seldom b een an ag e in lite r a tu r e w hen such a vein w as less
; w elcom e and less u n d ersto o d , (qtd in H aberm an 28)
I
W ilder's q u ie t p a ra b les w hich d e p ic te d m an search in g fo r a sp iritu a l
Dasis to life w ere ap p lau d ed by G arland who h im self sp en t m ost o f his la s t years,
brooding ab o u t an a f te r lif e . W ilder g ra te fu lly acknow ledged G arlan d 's p raise
i
:> y le tte r , b u t w hen G arlan d m oved to Los A ngeles in 1929, th e tw o co rresp o n d ed
no fu rth e r. H ow ever, la te r w hen O ur Town won th e P u litz e r in 1938, one m ust
! -----------------------
assum e th a t G arland saw it as th e a p o th eo sis o f a new A m erican d ra m a . The
p re s e n ta tio n of q u o tid ien New England life in O ur Town in th e hom espun lan g u ag e
o f th e S ta g e M anager w as w h at G arland h im self had long been try in g to achieve!
as a p lay w rig h t. G arlan d o f course lack ed W ilder's ab ility to m ake a play'sj
in te rn a l rh y th m s su g g est cosm ic id eas, and G arlan d —like m any o th e rs—probably!
jwas n ot fully a le r t to th e d a rk e r side o f W ilder's d ram a. B ut th is did n o t p re v e n t j
G arland from being c h a ra c te ris tic a lly g en ero u s in his p raise o f W ilder, o r anyone i
e lse , whom he fe lt upheld th e A m erican stan d a rd s fir s t se t by Jam e s A. H erne.
G arland's m em oirs a re also valu ab le fo r his re fe re n c e s to n e arly ev ery
A m erican icon o f th e p erio d , th e b e st know n o f whom w ere C h arlie C haplin,
D ouglas F airb an k s, and G eo rg e G ershw in. G arland te lls o f seein g th e film s
o f C haplin a n d F airb an k s, and e ven of a t t e n ding a p riv a te p a rty a t w hich an
167
u p -and-com ing G ershw in played th e piano. Such a c c o u n ts and o th e rs o f th e
a d v en t o f rad io and "ta lk ies," o ffe r illu m in atin g glim pses into A m erican c u ltu rJ
from a p e rsp ec tiv e not o fte n con su lted .
But during th e 1920's G arland w as n o t m erely a s p e c ta to r. G arland
could n ev er re s ist any o p p o rtu n ity to w rite a play. When th e C atsk ills com m unity
o f O n teo ra, New Y ork, w h ere G arland m a in ta in ed a sum m er hom e, s ta r te d up|
a lo cal th e a te r, G arland leap ed to an in v ita tio n to w rite th e p re m ie re play.
G iven fre e hand in ch o ice o f m a te ria l, G arlan d in 1927 w ro te a c re d ita b le
d ra m a tiz a tio n o f R ip Van W inkle.^ The play stan d s as perhaps G arland's most!
e ffe c tiv e in tra n s la tin g his antim o d ern ism in to d ra m a tic p ra c tic e fo r its em phasis!
I
i
on th e A m erican ro m an ce o f ren ew al. i
I
Both o f G arlan d 's d au g h ters w ere involved in th e p ro d u ctio n and!
p e rfo rm an c e o f R ip Van W inkle, a fa c t w hich calls a tte n tio n to y e t a n o th e r
jaspect o f G arland's in v o lv em en t in th e d ram a. As w as n o ted in C h a p te r One,j
G arland had m uch to do w ith developing his e ld est d au g h ter M ary Isabel's lovej
for th e th e a te r , b u t w hen M ary Isabel announced h er plans to becom e an a c tre s s ,
jGarland opposed h er, fe a rin g th e c o rru p tin g in flu en ce o f th e a te r life . M ary
Isab el n o n eth eless p e rsiste d in h er d ream u n til G arland w as fo rce d to p lace
h er under th e supervision o f A ugustus T hom as. This le d to h er s tin t in th e to u rin g
S h ak esp earean com pany o f W alter H am pden, th e lead in g A m erican purveyor
of S h ak esp eare during th e 1920's. M ary Isab el p lay ed a sm all ro le in H am pden's
p ro d u ctio n o f C y ran o , b u t soon le f t th e a tr ic a l life fo r m a rriag e, m uch to G arland's
r e lie f . In follow ing M ary Isabel's b rie f a c tin g c a r e e r and indulging h er love
fo r th e th e a te r, G arlan d saw a ran g e o f plays th a t few o f his g e n e ra tio n w ere
i
ab le to see , including a 1921 trip to The P ro v in ceto w n P lay ers to se e Susan!
G laspell's The In h e rito rs. 5 !
168
G arland w as stro n g ly a tta c h e d to his tw o d a u g h ters. His younger daughteij
I
C o n stan ce b ecam e th e illu s tra to r o f his books as th e y began to be reissu ed in
new ed itio n s, and M ary Isabel acco m p an ied him as a re a d e r on his le c tu re to u rs.
i
H e found ev ery p re te x t to k eep th em bound to him , b u t m a rria g e s soon pulled
i
th em aw ay to C alifo rn ia in th e la te 1920's. F or obvious reaso n s, G arlan d re siste d
leav in g his publishers in New Y ork, but th e d e sire to be n e a r his d a u g h ters caused
him to m ove to Los A ngeles in 1929.
i
Though G arland w as n ev er a w ealth y m an, by 1929 he had becom e
fin an cially se c u re and p ro ceed ed to build a hom e in th e H ollyw ood H ills w here
Jhis n e x t door neighbor w as C ec il B. D eM ille. G arland's p ro x im ity to Hollywood
en ab led him to co n tin u e his in te re s t in th e d ram a th ro u g h m otion p ic tu re s.
I
G arlan d o f co u rse was a v e te ra n o f th e silen t film e ra . He w as heav ily involved
in V itagraph's p ro d u ctio n of th e m ovies o f his novels, H esper in 1916 and The1
C ap tain o f th e G ray-H orse T roop in 1917. His d issa tisfa c tio n w ith V itagraph's
tre a tm e n ts , stem m in g from th e ir re fu sa l to film on lo c atio n , cau sed G arland
to te rm in a te his c o n tra c t fo r tw o ad d itio n a l film s. T h at he did so is ev id en ce
o f G arland's p rin cip les, fo r he could easily have cash ed in th e rig h ts to m any
o th e r o f his W esterns; a t fiv e hundred do llars in ad v an ce fo r each fiv e -re e le r,|
i
it w as indeed te m p tin g . In f a c t, G arland's books w ere to be m ade in to moviesj
w h e th er he lik ed it or n o t. In 1922 G arland d isco v ered C avanaugh F o re st R an g eri
I
w as m ade into a m ovie w ith o u t his know ledge or perm ission, but he did receive:
te n thousand dollars from th e p ro d u cer w hen he co m plained. Living in H ollyw ood,
G arland w as ap p ro ach ed m any tim e s fo r th e rig h ts to do his books as ta lk ie s,
i
b u t G arland alw ays w an ted to e x e r t m ore co n tro l o v er p ro d u ctio n th a n stu d io si
w ished to give.
169
G arland's m em oirs from th is perio d a re re p le te w ith his ev alu atio n s
o f c u rre n t film s as w ell as v aluable insights to th e film in d u stry . He b ecam e
ip articu lar frien d s o f D ouglas F airbanks and M ary P ick fo rd who ex p ressed th e ir
i
w o rries to G arland in 1929 ov er th e tra n sitio n fro m s ile n t p ic tu re s to ta lk ie s:
'I am fo r one m ore tr ia l,' [F airbanks] said . 'M ary and I a re working,
to g e th e r on a talk in g p ic tu re o f "The Tam ing o f th e Shrew ,"
but I am not a t a ll co n fid en t o f th e o u tco m e. It is n o t our m ethod.
. . . w e'll see how we com e o u t w ith our S h ak esp earean venture.j
I am m aking a fa rc e o f it.' (N eighbors 541) j
I
The old re fo rm in stin c t gripped G arland once m ore as he e n listed
F airb an k s in his sch em e to have th e A m erican A cadem y in itia te a m edal fo r
good d ictio n on th e talk in g scree n , as G arlan d had e a rlie r su cceed ed in
I |
estab lish in g a sim ilar p riz e for rad io d ic tio n . G arlan d asked F airbanks: j
| 'How shall we g e t th is [finer] d ictio n ? W hat is to be th e standard?']
j I ask ed . 'C e rta in ly we should n o t send o u t ov er th e w orld a-
, H ollyw ood English. Our sta n d a rd should be a blend o f th e best;
usage o f England and A m erica—sp eech such as W alter Ham pden;
and F o rb es-R o b ertso n em ploy.' (N eighbors 543)
G arland's fastid io u sn ess fo r p ro p er d ic tio n , how ever, did n o t prevent;
'him from a deep a p p re c ia tio n o f Will R ogers. G arland firs t saw Will Rogers!
I
a t a p e rfo rm an c e he gave in New Y ork on D ecem b er 13, 1925. G arland called,
R ogers a "philosopher" and soon b ecam e a c q u a in te d w ith him . On D ecem b er
28, 1930, G arland saw R ogers in a play and re c o rd ed th is in his diary:
A t Will R ogers' in v ita tio n I w en t to Fox H ills to see him
as "A Y ankee a t th e C o u rt o f King A rthur". We found him in
th e c e n te r o f a p ap er m ache c o u rty a rd , surrounded by a mob
o f knights, sq u ires, m en a t a rm s, p e asa n ts, lad ies in w aitin g and
th e lik e. He ta lk e d fo r som e tim e a b o u t th e play, b reak in g into!
O klahom a v e rn a cu la r now and th en . His g ram m ar w as e c c e n tr ic
b ut his w ise old head is in th e rig h t place.® j
On A ugust 16, 1935, G arland w ro te th is new s in to his diary:
Will R ogers is dead in A laska and th e w hole w orld is paying
trib u te to him as our beloved A m erican . His p arag rap h has been
my fir s t read in g in th e p ap er each m orning fo r te n y ears.
J
170]
Though G arlan d ’s trib u te to R ogers as "our beloved A m erican" w as indeedj
sin c e re , it is m ore im p o rta n t fo r im plying how G arland had com e to accep t;
j !
his c u ltu re ’s new d e fin itio n o f w h at an A m erican w as. F o r Will R ogers, a fte rj
all, w as an a c to r. R ogers had begun his ro p e -tric k -a n d -m o n o lo g u e -a c t with;
[ ’ I
[ i
th e Z ieg field F ollies in 1913, and w en t on in 1919 to a c a r e e r in th e m o v ies.1
R ogers c a re fu lly c ra fte d a p erso n a as a hom espun philosopher who o ffe re d pungent!
i
c o m m e n tary under th e guise o f ig n o ran ce, and p a rla y ed it during th e D epression
in to an incom e o f a h alf-m illio n do llars a y e a r. A t th e daw n o f th e m edia age,
R ogers b ecam e th e firs t A m erican know n a ll o v er th e w orld. R ogers w as ta k e n 1
I
on te rm s he h im self d ic ta te d and th e d eep er m eaning o f his su ccess w as to;
|
u n d ersco re th e n e c e ssity o f c re a tin g a th e a tric a liz e d id e n tity as a m a rk e tab le
com m odity. He alw ays see m e d th e O kie who w as enjoying his tim e in th e city ,
as long as it la ste d , w hen in f a c t R ogers w as a m em b er o f th e A m erican
a ris to c ra c y who re p a ire d to th e polo field s on his days o ff. B oth G arland and.
R ogers sh ared a g re a t d eal in th e ir com m on e x p e rie n c e as fa rm boys who le f t
th e p ra irie to m ake a n am e fo r th em selv es as A m erican s. W hat se p a ra te d them
was th a t G arland, unlike R ogers, w as n e v er q u ite ab le to p e rfe c t his a c t.
*
i
If one could d e sig n a te a single reaso n why G arland n e v e r succeeded!
in c re a tin g h im self as an A m erican , it is b ecau se A m erica is fu tu re te n s e , and!
p a rla n d lived his e n tire life in th e p a st. Indeed in th e la s t o f his M iddle Border;
books he fe lt it n e ce ssa ry to append an apologia in an a u th o r's a fte rw a rd : <
Som e say it is all an illusion, th is w orld of m em ory, of
im ag in atio n , b u t to m e th e re m e m b ered p a st is m ore and m ore
a re a lity , a joyous, se c u re re a lity . (B ack -T railers 378) I
G arland's m em ory in his fin al y ears w as th e only w ay of m aking his
'fondest d ream com e tru e , w hich he had o n ce ex p ressed openly in his poem ,
j i
"A Wish": !
i
t |
j A ll day and m any days I ro d e, I
j My h o rse's head s e t to w ard th e sea;
And as I ro d e a longing cam e to m e
T h at I m ight k eep th e su n set ro ad ,
R iding my h orse rig h t on and on, 1
O 'e rta k e th e day still lagging a t th e
w est,
And so re a c h boyhood from th e daw n,
And be w ith a ll th e days a t re s t.
For th e n th e odor o f th e grow ing w h eat,
The fla re o f sum ach on th e hills,
The to u c h o f g rasses to my fe e t
Would c u re my brain o f all its ills,—
Would fill my h e a rt so fu ll o f joy
T h at no s te rn lines could f r e t m y fa c e .
T here would I be fo re v e r boy,
L it by th e sky's un failin g g ra c e . (P ra irie Songs 1893)
F or G arlan d th is w as th e d ream o f his e n tire life . While such a d ream
.was p erhaps A m erican in its en o rm ity and im p o ssib ility , it also insured he would
■fail a t th e la s t, lik e a ll A m erican s, to found a hom e.
NOTES TO CHAPTER FIVE
1 The la s t tw o volum es o f G arlan d ’s m em oirs, My F riendly
C o n tem p o raries (1932) and A ftern o o n N eighbors (1934), a re n o t so m uch
[autobiographies as lite ra l tra n sc rip tio n s from p a rts o f his d ia rie s to w hich a re
[appended p a re n th e tic a l co m m en ts. Thus in th is e x c e rp t from A ftern o o n N eighbors
ithe q u o ta tio n m arks a re G arland's to in d ic a te he is quoting d ire c tly from his
Idiary. T he b ra c k e ts a re also G arland's to in d ic a te his th o u g h ts a f t e r th e fact.j
[Subsequent e x c e rp ts from th e se tw o G arlan d volum es w ill also be p re sen te d
,as G arlan d published th em .
| ^ jn 1929 th e P u litz e r advisory board d ecid ed to e lim in a te th e concluding
iphrase, "in raisin g th e sta n d a rd o f good m orals, good ta s te and good m an n ers." i
! j
: 3 F or a m ore d e ta ile d a c c o u n t of G arland's e arly y e a rs on th e P u litz e r
se le c tio n c o m m itte e , see John H ohenberg's, The P u litz e r P rize s (C olum bia,
| l 974), pp. 43-54. The a cc o u n t h e re em ploys in fo rm atio n and d o cum ents
H ohenberg does n o t p re se n t.
4 F or d e ta ils o f its p e rfo rm an c e and th e te x t o f th is la s t G arlan d play,'
see C h a p te r E ight below .
i . !
I 3 M ary Isabel to d a y has in h er possession a th e a tric a l scrapbook
[Containing playbills from th e m any plays she saw w ith h e r fa th e r.
6 From M ary Isabel's ty p e d tra n s c rip tio n o f h e r fa th e r's d ia rie s. The
o rig in al d iaries w ere d o n ated to th e H untington L ib rary in 1962.
P A R T T W O
A S E L E C T E D E D I T I O N O F H A M L I N G A R L A N D ' S
P L A Y S A N D D R A M A C R I T I C I S M
W I T H A
B I B L I O G R A P H I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N O F P L A Y M A N U S C R I P T S
174
C H A P T E R S I X
I
T H E T U F T S L E C T U R E : E D W I N B O O T H A S A M A S T E R O F E X P R E S S I O N
A N o t e o n t h e T e x t
I
j Ju ly 9, 1885, w as H am lin G arland's fir s t day as a le c tu re r a t th e Boston'
<
i i
School o f O ra to ry . He had been ap p o in ted by th e school's fo u n d er P ro fesso r
| i
M oses T rue Brow n, who also held th e C hair o f O ra to ry a t T u fts C o lleg e. G arland
was im p ressiv e enough as a sp eak er th a t a sch o o l p a tro n and B oston B rahm in
ay th e n am e o f M rs. J . W entw orth Payson to o k an in te re s t in G arlan d and
sponsored him in a se rie s o f public le c tu re s on S h ak esp eare. On Ju ly 20, 1885,
p a rla n d g av e th e second o f th e se le c tu re s , "Edwin Booth as a M aster of
I
'E xpression," in w hich G arland an aly zed Edwin B ooth's in te rp re ta tio n o f th e
•roles o f H am let, L ear, and M acbeth. This le c tu re w as a tte n d e d by p ro fesso rs
jfrom H arv ard , P rin c e to n , and C hicago and w as p a rtic u la rly w ell re c e iv e d , fo r
th e re p o rte r from th e B oston Evening T ra n sc rip t n o te d th a t "it show ed unusual
i
1
p ow ers o f c ritic a l an aly sis." S ev eral m onths la te r w hen th e C lass o f 1887 a t
i
T u fts w as arran g in g its w in te r sch ed u le o f le c tu re s , M oses T rue Brown
reco m m en d ed th a t G arland be in v ited . "P ro fesso r" G arland w as in v ite d and
Ln W ednesday, D ecem b er 9, 1885, G arland sto o d b e fo re th e fa c u lty and stu d e n ts
|Of T u fts to speak on Edwin B ooth. The m an u scrip t o f th a t le c tu re , n ev er
published, is p re se n te d now.
*
This te x t o f n e a rly 8,000 w ords would h ave ta k en n early n in e ty m in u tes
to d eliv er; G arland has even in d ic a ted on th e m an u scrip t th e elap sed tim es
o f tw e n ty , th irty , and fifty m in u tes. T h a t G arlan d did so su g g ests m eticu lo u s
i
re h e a rsa l, and such c a re has been c a rrie d th ro u g h to his in scrip tio n . This is:
an esp ecially clean , leg ib le G arland au to g ra p h m an u scrip t. Many o f G arland'sj
175
e d ito rs and ty p ists have com plained w ith good reaso n about his atro cio u s
I i
han dw riting, b u t h e re G arlan d ’ s in scrip tio n is unusually leg ib le. F u rth erm o re,j
th e re a re few c a n c e lla tio n s or revisions. T h ere a re tw o p rin cip al reaso n s forj
t
th is m an u scrip t's c la rity . F irst, a m an u scrip t serv in g G arland fo r an im portant;
public le c tu re would lik ely be m ade m ore re a d a b le . Second, G arland him selfi
tra n sc rib e d la rg e p o rtio n s o f th is le c tu re m an u scrip t from an e a rlie r v e rs io J
o f th is w ork w hich ap p ears in one of his n o teb o o k s.
G arland had been w ritin g in his n otebooks ab o u t Edwin B ooth sin ce O cto b er
16, 1884, th e day he firs t a rriv e d in B oston from th e D akota p ra irie . He began
a n o tebook lab eled w ith th is d a te (#13), and on pp. 58-61 app ears an e n try , "Edwin;
I ■
B ooth," an e x ten d ed discussion o f B ooth's p e rfo rm a n c e s w hich G arland had been'
i '
! ;
a tte n d in g in B oston. T hese firs t few pages on B ooth b e ar little re sem b la n c e
to th e T u fts le c tu re , b u t G arland does s e t fo rth his disapproval of th e se n sa tio n a l
I
sty le o f a c tin g . A lready he is groping fo r a s c ie n tific a lly based c ritic ism and
i
in tro d u ce s a th e m e he w ill develop fu rth e r:
I ■ ■ .
| This curious d isag ree m e n t [over B ooth] shows th e lack o f a com m on
| c ritic ism from w hich ju d g m en ts a re to be draw n. A ctin g as an'
| a r t has its broad ro o t in psychology. (59) I
| !
j On p. 69 o f th is sam e notebook, G arlan d in a new e n try has found his
title : "Edwin B ooth as a M aster o f E xpression." A lthough b rie f, th is e n try
t
ad v ances th e n o tio n o f Booth as a "m edium " b e tw e e n S h ak esp eare and
c o n tem p o rary au d ien ces, and it also re fle c ts G arland's in ten se se lf-e d u c a tio n
w ith new m entions o f D arw in and G erm an s c ie n tis t H erm ann von H elm holtz.:
This notebook is filled w ith n o tes o f G arland's th e a te r-g o in g in w hich, for
I
ex am p le, he d isp arag es H enry Irving's p e rfo rm a n c e s as Shylock and H am letl
to th e a d v an ta g e o f Edwin B ooth. ;
T he re a d e r should also know th a t th e poem on B ooth th a t G arland read
a t th e end o f his T u fts le c tu re ap p ears in m any o th e r versions, beginning w ith
tw o in his early notebook #13. On p. 182 G arland w ro te a poem o f fo u r stan z a s
j j
jon B ooth w hich is co m p le tely d iffe re n t from th e one he re a d a t T u fts. But
;on pp. 191-92, a new B ooth poem is close enough to be ta k e n as a d ra ft o f th e
T u fts poem . A fte r th e T u fts le c tu re , G arland rev ised th e poem y e t again fop
its p u b licatio n in th e B oston Evening T ran sc rip t on Ja n u a ry 2, 1886. (This Booth
Jpoem has been acknow ledged as G arland's f ir s t published poem , but I have
i
jdiscovered a n o th e r G arland poem , "F abled Isles," th a t p re c e d e s it, ap p earin g
Jin th e B oston Evening T ra n sc rip t on O cto b er 21, 1885.)
I
1 A second and la te r n o tebook #16 is lab led on one co v er, "Edw ard Booth
|as a M aster o f E xpression," and it co n tain s fifty -fiv e pages on Booth th a t alm o st
c e rta in ly w ere G arland's le c tu re n o tes fo r th e c lasses he ta u g h t a t th e B oston
I
ISchool o f O rato ry . A t one p o in t G arland has w ritte n : "P u t on th e board.
T o n e -P itc h -F o rc e -Q u a lity " (34). Since o th e r e n trie s in th is n o teb o o k have been
d a te d beginning May 15, 1885, one m ay assum e th a t G arland w ro te th is Booth
m a te ria l sh o rtly b efo re he began te a c h in g su m m er school in Ju ly 1885. In any
e v e n t, th e Booth, essay in th is n o tebook corresponds v ery closely to th e m an u scrip t
o f th e T u fts le c tu re , fo r m any of its passages h av e b een copied v e rb a tim . This
B ooth m a te ria l in n o tebook #16 is m ore discu rsiv e th a n th a t o f th e T u fts le c tu re
w hich is m ore tig h tly o rg an ized around th e th e m e o f a new sc ie n tific and
1
elo cu tio n ary d ra m a tic c ritic ism .
Since th e m an u scrip t o f th e T u fts le c tu re is th e only B ooth m an u scrip t
th a t can be a sc e rta in e d to have serv ed fo r a single, d is c re te o ra l p re se n ta tio n ]
it has been chosen as th e so u rce docu m en t fo r th is te x t. The te x t provided
177|
i
'here is n o t a c o n fla te d ed itio n , nor does it ta k e in to a cc o u n t fo r its read in g s
any o th e r Booth d o cu m en t. ;
As a p o stsc rip t to th is te x tu a l h isto ry , one should n o te th a t G arlan d
co m p leted a m assive stu d y of Edwin B ooth w hich he trie d to publish as a bookJ
i
jlndeed, one's m otive in p re sen tin g th is T u fts le c tu re is in p a rt to d e m o n stra te
th a t G arland's early c a re e r was alm o st wholly d e d ic a te d to th e goal o f becom ing
I
'a d ram a c ritic . D uring 1885-86 G arland w ro te five c h a p te rs on B ooth. Fourj
I
of th e se an aly zed B ooth as H am let, L ear, M acb eth , and Iago. T hese ch ap ters'
I
w ere p re c ed e d by one title d "The C ritic a l P ro b lem ," in w hich G arland p e rc e p tiv e ly 1
arg u ed th a t c ritic ism o f th e a r t o f a c tin g su ffe re d fo r th e lack of a p sy ch o lo g ical
vocabulary. G arland n e v er su cceed ed in publishing th is w ork w hich is co m p rised
o f 161 ty p e sc rip t and holograph leav es (#584 b, c, d, e, f), b u t it stan d s as
ev id en ce th a t G arland cam e to B oston less to b eco m e a fic tio n w rite r th an
\
I
a m an o f th e th e a te r . The in sisten c e o f th is e a rly am b itio n is re fle c te d by
i
G arland's co n tinuing to le c tu re on B ooth a t le a s t u n til th e sum m er o f 1903 when,
th e U n iv ersity o f C hicago in v ited him to sp eak once ag ain on "Edw in Booth
‘ I
as a M aster o f E xpression." ]
* ' <
I
I
T h ere a re th re e reaso n s, liste d h e re in ascen d in g o rd e r o f im p o rtan ce,!
fo r p re sen tin g th is c le a r te x t ed itio n of th e T u fts le c tu re : 1) The d esire to provide
| i
an a cc e ssib le read in g te x t to a w ide au d ien ce, esp ecially sin ce th e issues in :
this le c tu re c u t acro ss s e v e ra l d isciplines. 2) T he lim ited need fo r e d ito ria l
in te rv e n tio n in a m an u scrip t th a t b ears no re v ised p assages and re q u ire s no.
| I
e d ito ria lly supplied su b sta n tiv e v a ria n t read in g s. 3) The im p o rtan ce o f rep licatin g ;
I
I
as closely as possible fo r th e re a d e r th e e x p erien c e o f "hearing" G arland's le c tu re .
G arlan d w as a tra in e d and ex p erien ced le c tu re r who depended on rh e to ric a l
178
fo rc e fo r his e f fe c t, a tr a it also to be found in his fic tio n . To slow th e progress
o f th e re a d e r w ith n o te s and sym bols in th e te x t seem s in a p p ro p ria te for any
le c tu re te x t; in one such as th is w here th e v ery su b jec t is o ra l p erfo rm an c e
it seem s out o f th e q u estio n and c o n tra ry to G arlan d 's in te n tio n .
H ow ever, c le a r te x t should n ot be ta k e n to m ean in th is in sta n ce a heavily
em ended o r re g u la riz e d te x t. As explained in th e e d ito ria l-p o lic y below , c a re
has been ta k e n to p re serv e G arlan d 's a c tu a l in scrip tio n . Even w ith em en d atio n s,
th e re a d e r m ay n o te m any o th e r p o ints in th e te x t th a t m ight have w a rra n ted
i
in te rv e n tio n , b u t th e m ost co n se rv a tiv e e d ito ria l policy possible w as ad o p ted .
A ll e d ito ria l em en d atio n s a re re c o rd ed in th e te x tu a l a p p aratu s d ire c tly follow ing
th e te x t. The e le m e n ts o f th is a p p a ra tu s, in o rd e r, a re :
1. E d ito ria l E m endations—including all a c c id e n ta ls.
2. D e tails o f In scrip tio n in M a n u sc rip t-in c lu d in g a reco rd o f
a ll c a n c e lla tio n s and in scrip tio n s th a t could n o t be rep ro d u ced
| in th e te x t. i
1 3. D ivision o f L eaves—a ta b le show ing how G arland's in scrip tio n
divides am ong th e le av e s o f th e m an u scrip t, including a reco rd
o f G arland's page num bering. !
4. L ine-end H yphens—a re c o rd o f w ords w hich G arlan d hyph en ated
b u t a re n o t re p ro d u ced in th e te x t.
5. R e fe re n c e N o tes—ex p lan atio n s of G arland's allusions in th e
te x t w hich m ay not be fa m ilia r. I
E d i t o r i a l P o l i c y <
1. P arag rap h s
G arland's p arag rap h in g is n o t c o n siste n t in th is d o cu m en t. O fte n he
does not in d en t new p arag rap h s, p re fe rrin g in ste a d to le av e a la rg e gap o f w hite
sp ace b efo re s ta rtin g a new p arag rap h on th e sam e line w h ere th e p reced in g
p arag rap h ended. (This m ay be a m a tte r o f th r if t by G arland w hose living b u d g et
a t th e tim e o f eig h ty c e n ts a day would n o t p e rm it th e w a ste of p ap er.)
i
I
B ut d iscerning in th e m an u scrip t w here G arland m eans to end one
I
I
p arag rap h and begin a n o th e r is n ev er d iffic u lt. B ear in m ind th a t in an o ral
1 7 9
p re se n ta tio n p arag rap h in g is as m uch to in d ic a te pauses as new id eas, so th e re
a re m any sh o rt p arag rap h s h e re .
In th is te x t a ll p arag rap h b reak s a re re p re se n te d in c u sto m a ry and
co n siste n t in d e n ta tio n . G arland's d ev iatio n s a re n o t reco rd ed .
1
2. Spelling j
M ost o f G arland's own spellings have b een re ta in e d , including his n u m ero u s
i
m isspellings. Such m isspellings fa ll in to one of tw o c a te g o rie s: in v e te ra te
i
m isspellings, also to be found in o th e r G arlan d m an u scrip ts, such as "giveing,"
^ ’ju d g em en t," "rediculous"; and possibly d e lib e ra te m isspellings such as "rihtous."i
G arland w as long an a d v o c a te o f spelling re fo rm , along w ith o th e rs like B rander
M atth ew s, so dropping th e sile n t "g” in "rig h teo u s" m ay be in te n tio n a l and should
be m ade read ily av ailab le to th e re a d e r.
T h ere a re b u t th irte e n c o rre c tio n s to G arland's spelling, all re c o rd ed
in th e a p p a ra tu s. N ine o f th e se a re c o rre c tio n s in th e spelling o f p ro p er nam es,
such as "O edipus" fo r "Edipus." The rem ain in g fo u r c o rre c tio n s a re o f inscriptions!
!
su ch as "cu tu red " fo r "cu ltu red " or "in te lle cu a l" fo r " in te lle c tu a l." In every,
i
case a spelling c o rre c tio n has been m ade only w hen G arland has sp elled th e
w ord c o rre c tly e lsew h ere in th e m an u scrip t or d e m o n strated on o th e r m an u scrip ts
th a t he knew how to sp ell th e n am e or w ord c o rre c tly .
To c o rre c t, re g u la riz e , o r m o d ernize any o th e r of G arland's m isspellings
could co n ceal c e rta in im p o rta n t issues in G arlan d sch olarship. As one ex am p le,
one can n o t y e t be c e rta in w h e th er G arland's m isspellings r e f le c t his in a d eq u a te
e d u ca tio n or a w illful a tte m p t a t sp ellin g re fo rm . For a n o th er, G arland was
to b eco m e a lead in g u ser o f d ia le c t, so one can n o t be sure w h e th er a m isspelling
is in f a c t in ten d ed . In th is m an u scrip t G arlan d m ay have dropped th e "g" from
"spellin" (341) b ecau se he m ean t to pronounce th e w ord in d ia le c t, as m ight
I
it his allusion to a g rad e-sch o o l spelling b ee. Thus th e e d ito ria l p rin cip le has1
been th a t w here even th e sm allest doubt e x ists as to th e in te n tio n a lity of an
jerror, G arland's spelling w as re ta in e d .
3. P u n ctu atio n
G arland's p u n c tu atio n has been re ta in e d in a ll in sta n ce s e x c e p t w here
ithe w an t o f it would serio u sly im p air th e re a d e r's a b ility to p ro ceed . All such'
i i
em en d atio n s o f a c c id e n ta ls a re re c o rd ed in th e a p p a ra tu s.
The m ost fre q u e n t e d ito ria l in te rv e n tio n by fa r is th e supplying o f com m as.
B ecau se th is was a le c tu re m an u scrip t, G arland o fte n in d ic a te d a pause by leaving
a slig h tly la rg e r th an n o rm al w h ite sp ace b e tw ee n w ords. Since a pause w as
'certain ly ta k en a t th e se po in ts, th e added com m as a re n o t em en d atio n s so m uch
I
j
as sym bolic re p re se n ta tio n s o f G arlan d rs "gaps."
The re a d e r w ill n o tic e one o th e r a sp e c t o f G arlan d ’s p u n c tu atio n th a t
* i
rem ain s u n c o rre c te d th ro u g h o u t. D uring his e n tire c a re e r G arland alm o st neve^
used possessive a p o stro p h es. G arland w as p resu m ab ly aw are o f th e c o r r e c t
p u n c tu atio n o f possessives—his own books a re p ro p erly p u n c tu a te d —but he ra re ly
p u n c tu a te d his own au to g rap h m an u scrip ts. This la ck o f a sp ec ific ty p e of|
p u n c tu atio n is a conscious in scrip tio n a l h a b it r a th e r th a n an unconscious
jinscriptional e rro r and should n o t be hidden from th e re a d e r. A ll previous G arland
e d ito rs have sile n tly em ended th e ir te x ts fo r possessive a p o stro p h es, so one
I
purpose o f th is te x t is to ra ise new e d ito ria l issues p e rta in in g to G arland and
his c o n tem p o raries. j
4. G ram m ar
G arland's g ra m m a r and sy n tax have b een re ta in e d a t all po in ts. No|
i
c o rre c tio n s have been m ade since th e egregious e rro rs a re few and th o se that-
181
e x ist m ay r e f le c t G arland's g ra m m a tic a l skill a t th is e arly s ta g e in his c a re e r.
G arlan d 's sty le seem s s tilte d and o verly fo rm al a t som e p oints, p erh ap s becausei
I
w as try in g to p ro je c t a m o re le a rn e d im ag e. |
The m ost fre q u e n t e rro r is th e se n te n c e fra g m e n t, b u t ag ain th is m ay
3e a m a tte r o f in te n tio n . G arland so m etim es would p lace a period a f te r a
c o m p le te se n te n c e , follow ed by a fra g m e n t m e an t to re in fo rc e or e x ten d th e
I i
id ea o f th e p reced in g se n te n c e . An exam ple:
i
Mr. B arron show s Iagos en erg y , Mr. B ooth th e cool devilish
c a lc u la te d h a te . Which n o t only strik e s th e d ag g er hom e b u t tw ists;
it in th e w ound. (583-85)
One can im agine G arlan d tak in g a pause fo r em phasis a f te r "h ate" before;
finishing w ith th e fra g m e n t.
5. U nderlining
i While th e m an u scrip t is w ritte n in black ink, G arland did his underlining
* t
f
alm o st e n tire ly in re d ink. G arland's underlining is follow ed in all its p articu lars,-
jw hether single or double underlining. U nderlines in red ink and w avy underlines
a re re c o rd ed in th e a p p aratu s.
6. Line N um bers
Line num bers a t th e le f t m argins a re p rovided so lely as a co n v en ien ce1
in c ita tio n . They b e ar no re la tio n to G arland's in scrip tio n s. |
i
»
B i b l i o g r a p h i c a l D e s c r i p t i o n j
i
C ita tio n : EDWIN BOOTH AS A MASTER OF EXPRESSION; a . m s.; ink, pencil;j
ite m #584a o f H am lin G arland P ap ers, D oheny L ib rary , U n iv ersity o f Southern.
|C alifornia.
T itle : Edwin B ooth as a J M aster o f E xpression 0 H am lin G arlan d [signed over,
[decoration]. [All w ritte n in red ink w ith surrounding d eco ratio n s; a ll inscribedj
w ithin ru led re c ta n g le o f 7 H /1 6 " x 9".] j
iC ollation: 29 leav es; le a f 8 1/2" x 11"; 26 lin e b lu e-ru led w h ite, v e rtic a l chainlinesj
|7/8" a p a rt; w a te rm a rk e d "B ankers Linen"; bound a t spine w ith strin g ; n u m b erin g 1
[i] [1] 2-27 [28]; verso in scrip tio n 1-5, 7, 9-11, 13, 15-16, 18-20, 22-23, 26-28. :
182]
C o n te n ts : L e c tu re m an u scrip t, co m p lete; p. [i]: title page; p. [i] v erso : g re e tin g ;
pp. [1] 2-27 [28]: te x t, h ead ed "Edwin B ooth as a M aster o f E xpression";
in freq u e n tly rev ised in red ink. j
[D ates: C om position c. M ay-N ovem ber 1885; L e c tu re d eliv ered a t T u fts C ollege
'D ecem ber 9, 1885; unpublished.
*
I n t r o d u c t i o n
I
Edwin B ooth (1833-93) w as indeed "th e a c to r o f th e age," as G arland
p u ts it. He is s till re g a rd e d by m any as A m e ric a ’s g re a te s t a c to r, and th e re
Is no qu estio n th a t in th e n in e te e n th c e n tu ry he w as th e m ost p opular. B ooth
w as th e son o f th e renow ned a c to r Ju n iu s B rutus B ooth w hose p o w erfu l sty le
i
e stab lish ed him as A m erica's firs t im p o rta n t S h ak esp earean a c to r. Edw in B ooth
fo llo w ed his fa th e r o n to th e s ta g e , m aking his d eb u t in 1849 a t th e B oston Museum;
in his f a th e r ’s p ro d u ctio n o f R ich ard III. N ot long a f te r in 1852 Ju n iu s Booth'
j
!died, leav in g Edwin behind to fill g re a t e x p e c ta tio n s. A lthough he in h e rite d
his f a th e r’s S h ak esp earean re p e rto ry , B ooth w orked fo r y ears a t ind iv id u atio n ,
ev en tu ally developing an u n d e rsta te d ap p ro ach th a t c o n tra ste d w ith th e
iforcefulness o f Junius B ooth. One m ight say th a t Edwin B ooth w as our firs t
I
m eth o d a c to r, fo r he sought to b ecom e th e c h a ra c te r he w as playing th ro u g h 1
psychological asso c iatio n . This led to a sty le o f q u ie t, n a tu ra lis tic deliveryj
| i
in w hich he fo rced his au d ien ce to com e to him . i
!
And m any au d ien ces did so. B ooth's g re a te s t triu m p h s cam e in New'
Y ork during th e 1860's, including a 1 0 0 -p erfo rm an ce run as H am let in 1864-65,j
th e n a re c o rd . B ut th e se w ere also his d a rk e st days. B ooth w as tra u m a tiz e d
by his younger b ro th e r John W ilkes B ooth's assassin atio n o f Lincoln, and re tire d
from th e s ta g e fo r a b rie f tim e . When he re tu rn e d in 1866 he w as as popular,
as e v er, but his a c tin g is said to have b eco m e m ore brooding. He co n tin u ed
I
________________ i
183
w ith his re p e rto ry o f S h ak esp earean tra g e d ie s—he play ed little e lse —u n til th e
end o f his life , by w hich tim e he had becom e a c u ltu ra l icon.
H am lin G arland held no passion in his life s tro n g e r th an th e one he fe lt
fo r Edwin B ooth. G arlan d ’s fa th e r, R ich ard G arlan d , had seen Junius B rutus
I
B ooth in B oston during th e 1840's, and he re g a led his son w ith sto rie s o f th e
tra g e d ia n . In 1881 G arlan d m ade a b rie f v isit to B oston during w hich he saw1
Edwin B ooth play H am let and he w as spellbound by th e a c to r. When he m oved
to B oston p erm an en tly in 1884, G arland b eg g ared h im self to a tte n d ev ery one
o f B ooth's m any B oston p ro d u ctio n s. G arland re c a lle d th o se days a t len g th
in th e m ost e x tra v a g a n t te rm s in A Son o f th e M iddle B order (1917): I
I
. . . g re a te s t o f all in a c e rta in sense w as th e in flu en ce o f Edwin
Booth who ta u g h t m e th e g re a tn e ss o f S h ak esp eare and th e glory
of English sp eech .
Poor as I w as I v isite d th e old M useum night a f te r night,'
paying th irty -fiv e c e n ts w hich a d m itte d m e to a stan d in g p lace
in th e f ir s t balcony, and th e re on my f e e t and in co m p lete
ab so rp tio n , I saw in w ondrous p ro cessio n [B ooth's roles]. T hese
w ere my p u rp le, splendid hours ....
The stim u la tio n o f th e se p e rfo rm an c es w as very g re a t.
The a r t o f th is "P rin ce o f T ragedy" w as a pow erful e d u ca tio n a l
in flu en ce along th e lin es o f o ra to ry , p o e try and th e d ram a . . . .
His a c tin g w as a t once p ain tin g and sc u lp tu re and m usic and I
b ecam e s till m ore eco n o m ical o f food in o rd e r th a t I m ight the'
m ore o fte n bask in th e golden a tm o sp h e re o f his w orld. . . . j
. . . I have n ev er looked upon a fa c e w ith such tra n sc e n d e n t power-
o f e x te rn a liz in g and d iffe re n tia tin g em o tio n s, and I have never;
h eard a v o ice o f eq u al b eau ty and m a je sty .... I
. . . As fo r m e—I could n o t slee p fo r hours a f te r leav in g th e
th e a te r. . . .
B ooth's hom e a t th is tim e w as on B eacon H ill, and I used
7 »
to w alk re v e re n tly by ju st to see w here th e g re a t m an housed .... j
U nder th e spell o f th e se p e rfo rm e rs, I w ro te a series of;
stu d ies o f th e tra g e d ia n in his g re a t ro le s. (328-31) j
G arland's "Edw in B ooth as a M aster o f E xpression" is one o f th e se stu d ies
and is n o t th e w orse fo r its B ooth id o la try , fo r G arland trie s to use B ooth as
th e focus for a new o b je ctiv e c ritic ism . The T u fts le c tu re is a t its ro o t G arland's
a tte m p t a t a new book on a c tin g . W hile th is seem s a co n sid erab le d ista n ce
184
from th e tra d itio n a l co n cern s o f G arlan d sch o lars w ith his la te r w ork as a
!
lo c a l-c o lo r re a lis t, th e re is im bedded in th e T u fts le c tu re a n a sc e n t th e o ry o f
'language by w hich G arland sto o d his e n tire c a re e r and by w hich som e of his
!
f e tte r-k n o w n w orks could be re re a d .
i
A t one p o in t in his le c tu re G arland s ta te s , "In fa c t in e m o tio n a l lite r a tu r e
and esp ecially th e d ram a th e la rg e r p a rt by fa r is u n w ritten " (327-28). In other,
m a te ria l on B ooth, G arland also em p h asized th e in h e re n t in a b ility o f languagej
to re n d e r p resen ce: I
i
When th e c ritic sits down a t his desk w ith pen and p a p e r to rec o rd
[B ooth's p erfo rm an ces] th ey b eco m e m eag re, su ccessiv e, and as(
he trie s to im p rin t th e splendid p ic tu re in to th e s ile n t lin es of,
d o ts and splashes we call w ritin g he is in d esp air a t th e alm ost)
in su perable d iffic u ltie s w hich he fa c es. ("The C ritic a l Problem "!
j 2 #584b) I
! |
i Such a co n cep tio n o f lan g u ag e as ab sen ce n o t only cau sed G arlan d toj
: !
p riv ile g e th e p erfo rm ed S h ak esp earean te x t o v er th e p rin ted , b u t also form ed)
< |
t
:the basis o f his own a e s th e tic ap p ro ach to fic tio n w ritin g , s ta te d in th e T ufts'
I I
'le c tu re in no u n c e rta in te rm s: "Now th e u ltim a te te s t o f a ll a r t is its expressivei
pow er" (162). This ro m a n tic p reo ccu p atio n w ith lite r a tu r e ’ s e f f e c t guided G arland
|in a ll o f his w ritin g , even th a t w hich is co n sid ered re a lis tic . W ith his a priori
view o f lan g u ag e, G arland in a sense n ev er trie d to b ecom e a re a list.
G arland's ro m an ticism is one o f tw o m ajo r p rem ises w hich th e re a d e r
w ill n o tic e in th e T u fts le c tu re . The o th e r is th e th e o ry o f sc ie n tific evolution.
G arland a c c e p te d H e rb e rt S p en cer's and Jo h n F iske's o p tim istic in te rp re ta tio n s
i
o f D arw in's th e o rie s as a law of pro g ress. W hether or n o t th is is its e lf a-
ro m a n tic iz a tio n o f s c ie n tific th e o ry , G arlan d a d h ered to it re le n tle ssly . G arland's
b e lie f in so cial ev o lu tio n goes a long w ay to w ard explaining his re fo rm ism . In
th e T u fts le c tu re G arlan d w as em barking on his life-lo n g cru sad e to re fo rm
th e A m erican s ta g e . !
185
W hatever else th is le c tu re m ay d e m o n stra te , it speaks o f G arland's
asto nishing in d u stry . All o f th e ideas G arland p re se n ts on biology, psychology,j
philosophy, and lite r a tu r e he had d eriv ed fro m his p ro g ram o f se lf-e d u c a tio n
! I
a t th e B oston Public L ib rary begun a y e ar e a rlie r w hen H arvard re fu sed him
| t
adm ission. But consum ing so m any w eighty volum es in so sh o rt a tim e p re v e n ted
!
G arland from fully d ig estin g th e m a te ria l, w ith th e re s u lt th a t he w as n ev er
ab le to build on his u sefu l ad u m b ratio n s h e re to c o n stru c t a co m prehensive
i :
jtheory o f d ram a. i
i
| G arland w as n ev er given to a b stra c tio n s. His c h ie f in te re s t a t th is tim e
I
;was in estab lish in g h im self as a p ra c tic in g m an o f le tte r s . He w as able to do
th is in p a rt th ro u g h a shrew d cam paign o f w ritin g le tte r s o f su p p licatio n to
I
;Jam es A. H erne, S arah O rne J e w e tt, Joseph K irkland, Jam e s W hitcom b R iley,
M ark T w ain, and W alt W hitm an, am ong m any o th e rs. Soon a f te r th e T u fts le c tu re
on Ja n u a ry 22, 1886, G arlan d se n t one o ff to B ooth h im self in an a tte m p t to
i
in te re s t th e a c to r in "a la rg e r w ork w hich m ay grow in to a book." B ooth ag reed
to re a d G arland's stu d y o f M acbeth and a co rresp o n d en ce evolved in w hich Booth
1
i
m ade serious resp o n ses to G arland's "ad m irab le essay s on my perform ances",
i
(20 D ec 1887 #1078). Such a relatio n sh ip w ith A m erica's m ost fam ous a c to r
w as fo r G arland th e re a liz a tio n of th e im possible d ream of a s ta r s tr u c k Iow a
i
farm b o y . I
[ T i t l e L e a f ]
Edwin Booth as a
M aster o f E xpression
H am lin G arland
L adies and G en tlem en :
F a c u lty and stu d e n ts o f T u fts C o lleg e. The study w hich I re a d
you to n ig h t is n o t a biography and m ay n o t be so pleasing as a b io g rap h y
m ight be m ade b u t as an a tte m p t a t a new m ethod o f c ritic ism m ay bel
o f m ore value. j
It is com posed o f e x tra c ts fro m a m uch longer p ap er th a n could
I
be read in a single evening, hen ce I h ave le f t m any p rin cip les u n to u ch ed
and o th e rs b u t sc a n tily illu s tra te d .
H oping how ever th a t enough h as b een le f t to give you an id ea
o f th e re s t I plunge a t once in to th e w ork.
E d w i n B o o t h a s a M a s t e r o f E x p r e s s i o n .
When a fam o u s m an, dying, le ts fa ll th e m an tle o f his renow n
upon th e shoulders o f a son, it proves th e m ore o fte n a crushing w eight
th a n a glorious h e rita g e .
Men e x p e c t m uch o f a g re a t m ans son and hence p e c u lia r trials!
w alk a b re a s t w ith p e cu liar p riv ileg es. If th e son follow in th e fath ers,
I
fo o tp rin ts as is m ost n a tu ra l th e re a re c h a rita b le people lying in waitj
to cry aha! If on th e supposition he essay o rig in ality th e sam e pleasantj
individuals a re read y to c o n tra st his w ork, dam ageingly, w ith th a t ofj
his illu strio u s sire . j
i
But in th is c ase alth o u g h b u t a slen d er youth of tw e n ty w hen the|
i
tra g ic m a n tle slipped from th e shoulders o f a p re e m in en t genius upon
his own, Edwin B ooth g a th e re d its sw eeping folds around his youthful!
fig u re and has n ev er le t it tr a il in th e d u st.
The fire o f genius flash in g fro m his d ark eyes, has n ev er ad m itted j
15 d e fe a t and th e sto ry of his pro g ress fro m cooking his own food in thej
"R anche" a t San F ran cisco to th e tw e n ty fo u rth re c a ll a t B erlin and the*
i
silv e r and gold C o ro n atio n w re a th s a t Vienna is b ut a n o th e r exam ple]
i
o f th a t w hich genius and in d o m itab le w ill can a tta in . I
C e rta in o f our people who re ly upon w h at Europe th in k s did n o t
20 give him his tru e p la ce till London in 1881 and G erm any th e m ost
l
in te lle c tu a l n atio n o f E a rth , in '83 p u t th e u n m istak eab le sea l o f a sse n t
to his g re a tn e ss. It is th e re fo re no m isnom er to begin by callin g him
The M aster o f E x p ressio n . i
T h ere a re tw o w ays o f stu d y in g a g re a t a c to r. One to indulge!
25 in a g re a t d eal of R h eto ric and e p ig ra m m a tic sayings upon a r t and a c tin g .'
The o th e r is to seek by sc ie n tific reaso n in g to find th e deep laid p rin cip les'
w hich m ake th e a r tis t g re a t, p rin cip les draw n from th e w id est and best,
o b serv atio n w hich m ake a scien ce.
The s ta g e o f to d ay is very la rg e ly ru le d by th e s ta g e o f y e ste rd a y .
30 Its fund o f in fo rm atio n is a curious jum ble o f e sth e tic s , m axim s,'
i
o b serv atio n s, and p erso n al m ethods w hich has a cc u m u la te d along th e
line o f a c to rs from S h ak esp eare down to M r. Irving a t H arvard.
T h ere is n o t a single book upon th e a r t of a ctin g w hich is w orthy
th e n am e o f a u th o rity . T hey a re a c a b a listic d o g m atic, m osaic o f
35 fra g m e n ts, curiously c u t, carv ed and co lo red .
O fte n th e m ethods a re good h o w ever em p irically p u t fo r th ey
c o n tain th e re su lts o f m any ex p erien c e s. B ut m ore o fte n th e y a re bad^
from th e v ery p rin cip le of th e ir fo rm a tio n . They a re fo r th e m ost p a rt
b ased in im ita tio n o f som e g re a t a c to rs m eth o d s.
The m a ste r b ro u g h t down th e house a t th is po in t hen ce it m u st
b ecom e th e spur to th e in te n t o f th e young a c to r. I
!
[
Now th e im ita to r is alw ays an in fe rio r a r tis t, and is m ost a p t
I
to c a tc h and p e rp e tu a te th e s a lie n t p e c u lia ritie s and d e fe c ts r a th e r than!
I
I
th e unobtrusive e x ce lle n cies o f th e m a ste r. A m e re bungler w ith th e'
p en cil can draw a m onstrous fig u re o f a m an, w ith cloven fe e t and'
g ro tesq u e fe a tu re s, b u t so m eth in g m ore is n eed ed to even o u tlin e a
harm onious and b e a u tifu l form p ro p o rtio n ale in a ll its p a rts . A ru stic
m ay c a tc h th e lim ping g a it o f a bow legged d w a rf b u t fa il u tte rly to assum e
th e proud fre e ste p o f an a th le te .
So H enry D ixey can a tta in to th a t w hich m akes Irving red icu lo u s
but n o t to th a t w hich m akes him g re a t. All th is is fo r saying th a t th e se
e m p iric a l m ethods a re v ery d e fe c tiv e from th e p rin cip le of th e ir fo rm atio n
and m ust give w ay to g e n eral p rin cip les.
i
Mr. Irving a t H arv ard is th e la s t in th e lin e. He did n o t c lea rly
e n u n cia te a p rin cip le b u t p le asa n tly re h ash ed th e m a tte r o f Talm a,!
K now les, C ooke, F ro b ish er e tc . L e t th e re a d e r ta k e up any of th e se
g en tlem en I have n am ed and th e y w ill find a p le n tifu l la c k o f tissu e.
I
They have no beginning or ending. They have a f ir s t p age and a lastj
I
I
page th a t is all. They have a v ery fa ir id ea, h a m m ered in to th e ir headsj
by hissing and ap p lau se o f w h at re su lts a re and b u t little or noth in g ofj
p ro cesses. U sing vague te rm s like " n a tu ra l g e stu re" "m ag n etic voice"!
"sm ooth" and "rough" u tte ra n c e s inspired m o m en ts and so on, th ey im agine
th e y have re a c h e d u ltim a te s w hereas th e y n e ith e r know n o r can ex p lain
w hat th e y m ean.
190
65 Take th is se n te n c e from T alm a w hich Mr. Irving q u o ted w ith g re a t'
i
u n ctio n . It is an an aly sis o f an a c to rs m eth o d . j
"In th e fir s t p la ce by re p e a te d e x ercise s he e n te rs deeply intoj
th e em o tio n s and his sp eech a cq u ires th e a c c e n t pro p er to th e m . T his1
done he goes to th e th e a tr e to tr y th e m ."
70 You would th in k it a very sim p le m a tte r. You would n e v er d ream
th a t b etw een feelin g th e em o tio n and " g e ttin g its a c c e n t" as he g lib ly 1
says th e re lie s an alm o st im passable g u lf and w hich b u t one o r tw o m en
o f an ag e can cross. I m ight q u o te m any o f th e so called p rin cip les w hich1
lik e th e above te ll n othing. *
I
j75 W here sh all w e tu rn th e n fo r help upon th is a r t e ith e r as criticsl
o r as a rtis ts ? To Men o f S cien ce who g e n e ra liz e only w hen p o ssessed 1
j
of su ffic ie n t d a ta , who have no d o c trin e to uphold but only tr u th . Who'
g e n e ra liz e only a f te r a study o f a ll ra c e s o f m en sav ag e and sem i-sa v a g e. ;
A ctin g is a w o nderful a r t. It has its ro o t in psychology, n e ce ssa rily ,
80 its m o to r is th e re , its e ffe c t th e re . Its w hole province is one o f re la tio n
o f m ind to m a tte r. In its essen ce it m u st conform to th e law s o f m ind
and in its m eans to law s o f m a tte r . A ll in te rc o u rse is th ro u g h m atter!
and m ust conform to such law s as govern sound, m otion, m ass. We can
n o t see a soul b u t only its stirrin g s as th e lak e ripples under th e sw irl
85 o f th e wind.
A philosophy o f E xpression m ust be a philosophy o f th e soul. It
is a new scien ce as Biology. j
Now a ll th is does not m y stify th e su b ject b ut c le a rs it up. ForJ
a c tin g w ill be g o v erned by law s as d e fin ite and c le a r as th o se o f sound
90 or s ta tic s . This w ill p re p a re th e w ay fo r w h at is to follow . E sp ecially
w hen I say th a t m y th e o rie s re s t upon th e w ork o f H elm h o ltz, D arw in,1
M an teg azza, H e rb e rt S pen cer, Jo h n F iske and P ro f. M oses T rue Brown. !
I say u n h e sitatin g ly th a t if th e sta g e co n tin u es it m ust and will
i
se c u re th e se p rin cip les o f th e g re a t S c ie n tists as fo u n d atio n fo r th e ir
te m p le o f a r t. And a s till m ore m om entous dependency, is th e rise o f
a new p o e tic d ra m a tic lite r a tu r e . F or if B row ning or T ennyson a re to
su cc e ed on th e sta g e th e y m ust be v o iced by c u ltu re d a c to rs , ru led by
p rin cip le and not im ita tio n , th e y m u st in te llig e n tly as w ell in stin c tiv e ly
stu d y th e lines.
I s ta te in a g e n e ra l w ay, Mr B ooth is th e a c to r o f th e a g e. He
is th e in te lle c tu a l a c to r as opposed to th e ro b u st and p h y sical. His g re a t
e ffe c ts a re w rought by su b tle em o tio n a l sym p ath y guided by reaso n ra th e r
th a n by iso la te d fits o f fo rc e and clam o r.
I m ean by th e a c to r of th e ag e th a t we a re grow ing m ore m en tal
in our ta s te s . C hildren and th e ig n o ran t ask fo r strik in g p a rtic u la ritie s ,
c u ltu re d m inds dem and a lo g ical, sy n th e tic w hole. P lace a child o r an
ig n o ra n t m an b e fo re a splendid la n d -scap e pain tin g . The child sees th e
sh eep and Ja k e , th e w ind-m ill; n e ith e r com prehends a g e n e ra l e f f e c t.}
I
A p a in te r com es, a connoisseur. Ah! he says "W hat a sublim e id ea is!
i
h e re em bodied. W hat a union o f b e a u tie s, p ro p o rtio n s, w ide and d iv in e1
ex p erien ces has th e a r tis t p u t in to th e scen e. It is genius."!
i
The in fan cy o f a r t ad d ressed its e lf to th e p a rtic u la r. Knowingj
noth in g o f in te rd e p en d e n c ie s o f n a tu re th e y p a in te d no la n d -sc a p e s, n o !
g e n e ra l-id e a s. They tu rn e d th e ir a tte n tio n to th e m ost conspicuous thingj
i
in th e ir narrow w orld, th e hum an fig u re and th ey c a rrie d its re p re se n ta tio n
to th e h ig h est po in t.
192
This is an ag e o f lan d -scap es o f g e n e ra litie s . So in our a r t we
dem and co h eren cy , u n ity of e ffe c ts . And in a ctin g we dem and lo g ical
seq u en ce and h arm o n ic dep en d en cies to be unfolded by our a c to rs. The;
'120 splendid su ccess o f Mr. B ooth in G erm any is in sta n c e o f th is. j
He is th e tra g e d ia n of th o u g h t as w ell as passion, it is probable;
th a t no tra g e d ia n equals in th e su b lim ity of g re a t th o u g h t. T h ere is no!
th o u g h t a t a ll in Salvini's c h a ra c te riz a tio n s. They a re all passion. His
C oriolanus is a s tirrin g one I g ra n t, b u t I am not ab le to find its
;125 ju s tific a tio n in th e te x t. W here is th e calm p a tric ia n pride o f th e haughty
I R om an? The sta tu e sq u e repose and com m anding voice?
j (
i Salvini ra g e s and ro ars w ith o u t re stin g through th e sim p lest
! passag es. He can su g g est a re tu rn to th e m a rk e t p lace w ith o u t th e use
I
i o f th e ra d ic a l s tre ss , lo w ered fo rc e an d g u tte ra l q u ality a ll o f w hich
i
j 130 a re m arks o f a b ra g g a rt and im p u d en t brigand ra th e r th a n a R om an
* a ris to c r a t, su re of his cause and despising his acc u sers. To sum up I
; cam e aw ay th in k in g th a t Signor Salvini in his blind rush a f te r sen sa tio n al
b u rsts o f passion had lo st sig h t o f th e re la tio n e le m e n t. !
From th e e x citin g b u t illo g ical L e a r o f th e ph y sical school wej
135 find B ooth d issen tin g .
I
M an ifestly th e logic o f th e d ra m a h as a ffe c te d his c h a ra c te riz a tio n .
His L ear is n o t a ro arin g a th le te fra m e d in th e lightnings g la re , an
a ll-p o w erfu l m onarch w ith sto rm y v o ice and rolling m uscles sw ell, b ut
a w eak and in firm old m an e n te re d fa r in to his d o ta g e. A King only feeblyj
140 and in flash es. I ask you to co n sid er w h e th e r th is be n o t th e L ear ofj
S h ak esp eare.
193
G ran ted th a t shouts and rav in g s m ight m ake all sp lit, b ut it would
I
n o t be a r t nor would it be tru e to th e u n ity o f th e d ra m a . And indeed^
upon so b er th o u g h t w ould be red icu lo u s. N othing is e a sie r th a n the'
i
j 145 re p re se n ta tio n o f e x tre m e s say s Lessing. And how profound is th e re m a rk . I
j Anyone, a child, m ay daub upon th e can v as sp lo tch es o f g re e n
j and gold but th e hand o f a m a ste r is n eeded to blend and harm o n ize th e m 1
! in to th e so fte n e d glory o f an au tu m n su n set. The g re a te s t skill com es
n o t from th e laying on of th e h e a rt o f th e colors, b ut in th e d e ft touch
1 150 w hich blends th e h a lf-tin ts and fo rm s th e ju st and n ice jo in tu res of th e
j colors edges and th e m eetin g lin es o f p e rsp e c tiv e , and above all the,
! p re se rv a tio n of p ro p o rtio n in th e in te rd e p e n d e n t e le m e n ts. So jn th e
i a c to rs a r t th e h ig h est skill is show n n o t in crim son "p o in ts” as in th e
' blendings and tra n sitio n s o f passions.
!
155 This I beg you to observe is th e re la tio n a l o r s y n th e tic as opposed
to th e sen sa tio n al or p a rtic u la r. An in fe rio r a r tis t unable to rep ro d u ce
J an y th in g but th e m ost e le m e n ta ry of passions has m o m en ts w hen expression
i drops from him lik e a cloak and th e q u estio n ab le Jo n es o r S m ith ap p ears
m arrin g th e e f f e c t o f L ear o r O th ello . The g ran d er and m ore su b tle
160 id eas escap es him . O nly th e co n v en tio n al re p re se n ta tio n of th e cardinal,
passions a p p ear in his a c tin g .
Now th e u ltim a te te s t o f a ll a r t _is jits ex p ressiv e p o w er. P rinted;
lin es a re but a shadow o f th e life fe lt by S h ak esp eare. T hey give but
th e lo g ical and re la tio n a l. V oice and g e stu re and scen ic e f f e c t m ust;
i
165 conjoin b e fo re any d e g re e o f co m p leten ess is re a c h e d . j
While som e a c to rs fa il to give any b u t th e m ost c ard in al passions
o th e rs a re alw ays h ard and m e n ta l. T he id e al a c to r is one who in d ic a tes a t
194j
I
le a s t th e w hole o f th e passional life in a ll its co m p lex ities and also thej
l
id e al life in its g ra n d e u r and harm ony and both in pro p er re la tio n s. j
170 A pproxim ating th is id eal o f a S h ak esp earean a c to r I p la ce Mr.!
i
B ooth—a shade n e a re r p erhaps to th e lo g ic a l th an th e sen sa tio n al. He!
I
e rrs if a t a ll upon th e sober sid e. M r. Irving is s till n e a re r th e m e n ta l
f
i
e x tre m ity . He is lack in g in w arm th . He n ev er seem s to fo rg e t him self.
H e n e v e r rise s to th e h eig h t o f M r. B ooth nor keeps th e le v el w ith him .
175 No d e ta il escap es Irving, how ever. H e ex cels in p e rso n atio n and
p ic tu resq u e d e ta ils ra th e r th an in th e g ran d and im p ersonal, th e univ ersals
o f th o u g h ts and passion. He is p la y er, Mr B ooth | s th e tra g e d ia n . He
i
| is o f th e d ram a, B ooth o f im p erso n al tra g e d y .
i
j A lthough we seem to be g e ttin g m ore and m ore m e n ta l and less
180 ex p ressiv e y e t I b eliev e th a t a t a b o u t th is m edian line b e tw ee n feeling;
and logic m ust be th e th ro n e o f th e com ing a u to c ra ts o f ex pression.
1 The tro u b le has been, m en o f undoubted ab ility have b een ra re
upon th e s ta g e and a c tin g has b een la rg e ly v ita l and spasm odic ra th e r
|
th an lo g ical and re la tio n a l. A gain th e a c to rs have n o t p ro fite d by th e
185 o b serv atio n s o f tra in e d and unbiased s c ie n tific m inds as I have show n.
I
R elying upon th e ir ow n sc a n ty o b serv atio n s and a few g arb led ru le s. |
I
H ence th e y find ft d iffic u lt to d e p ic t th e im p erso n al and u n iv ersal.
N one but m a ste rs have done so.
Ten th o u san d can d e p ict th e passions o f th e m elo d ram a to onei
I
190 who can rise to th e im p erso n al o f Sophocles or S h ak esp eare. He m ustj
needs be a m a ste r who can b ear upon his shoulders an u n iv ersal sorrow .
I te ll you th e re a re m om ents in M acbeth w hen th is m an to m e becom esi
th e aw ful v o ice th a t speaks from th e shadow to a ll m en in a ll ages as
195'
I
I
n em esis. And th e d ream s of th e g re a t p o e t a re in v e sted w ith an aw ful
195 su b lim ity b e fo re w hich w e s it am azed and a lm o st fo rg e t th e m an who
has brought th e p o e ts visions b e fo re us.
i
Ideal passion depends upon som ew hat m ore th a n im ita tio n or ideas
I
picked up on th e s tr e e t. It m ust depend upon p rin cip les as w ell as
in stin c tiv e genius. (20) ^
200 Mr B ooth has th e a d v an ta g e o f a harm onious and b e a u tifu l fig u re
a ra re v o ice and fa c e , w hich en ab les him to d e p ic t id eal passions.
Mr. R ussell said th a t in listen in g to Mr. Irving he fe lt as though H am let
m ight have "plodded" in th a t p e cu liar fashion o r m isused th e Q ueens
English. But th is is a m istak e. N othing should stan d b etw een th e h e a re r
205 and th e id e a . As w ell ta lk o f a h u m p-backed A pollo to re p re se n t ideal
m anhood. ;
For w hat is H am let? Do you know th a t you can tr a c e him back
o f S hak esp eare a thousand y e a rs, back in to d arkness o f Icelan d ic tra d itio n s?
W hat is H am let? H e is an a c c re tio n o f a ll th e shadow , th e doubts, th e
210 fe a rs, th e fru itle ss so rro w s of th e N o rth ern peoples, a c c u m u la te d along th e
!
vanished g e n eratio n s. An a b s tr a c t o f th e N o rth e rn gloom and te rro r , and
t
th e p o et who so w rite s, an a c to r who so v oices m ust rise to th e im personal
to p ro je c t his g ig a n tic fig u re. J u st as L ear is th e tra g e d y of old age,
and R om eo th e o ra to r o f yo u th . This m a tte r is one dealin g w ith u ltim a te
215 co n cep tio n s. A ll g re a t tra g ic c h a ra c te rs a re m ore or less a b stra c tio n s.
|
H am let, L ear, O edipus, re p re se n t g e n eral id eas and th e m ore g e n e ra litie s
i
th e a c to r in d ic a te s th e w id er th e c irc le to w hich he w ill ap p eal. \
Mr. B ooth Is H am let from th e m o m en t he com es on th e sta g e
till he le av e s it. H e n eed s n o t to be ev en m oving. The harm onious and
j
220 b e a u tifu l expression o f his b earin g , his sp eak in g fa c e and e v ery m uscle
o f his body lik e a G reek s ta tu e a re H am let in repose o r actio n .
He is th e p rin c e lie st H am let th a t e v e r tro d th e sta g e said th e
i |
p o et S ted m an . O bserve his a ir o f q u ie t com m and in O th ello , H am let
! !
| j
1 o r M acbeth. An in fe rio r a r tis t would ro a r and stam p w here he b u t w aves
I !
1225 a hand. Mr. B ooth’s O th ello is as lith e and b e au tifu l as a leo p ard in its
ph y sical and as p a ssio n a te as m o rta l fra m e can b e a r. Salvini w ith his
m assive fra m e and h e av ie r fa c e m ay bring o u t th e m a rtia l p a rt o f O thello
b e tte r b u t he is to o hom ogeneous, to o sim ple. For closely a n a ly tic a l and
sh arp ly d efin ed w ork Mr B ooth is su p erio r. So said th e G erm an c ritic s . He
230 is so lum inous so fa c ile as he voices th e in tr ic a te and w arrin g passions. It
j is s a fe to say th a t no a r tis t now on th e s ta g e is so h etero g en eo u s in his
I
i
a r t. S h ak esp eares passions a re alw ays tr e a te d but it is sa fe to say th a t
' I
M r. B ooth voices m ore o f his su b lim ity o f th o u g h t th a n any o f his co m p eers.
1 I propose to co n sid er th is g re a t a c to rs m ethods a little m o re in
i
|235 d e ta il, (read lines)
i
He is th e only m an I have h eard upon th e sta g e who rise s to
su b lim ity in th e ex p ression of th o u g h t. Who shows a sym p ath y fo r the'
i
id eas. He alone so fa r as I re m e m b e r p u ts th e hand above th e h ead
ex p ressiv e o f th e h ig h est d ignity and pow er, o f m a je stic th o u g h t and
240 a c tio n .
This is th e a c tio n o f o u tra g e d m a je sty in O edipus cu rse on Polynices.j
This is L ear w hen he says "A ye e v e ry inch a king." The law is:—
When th e soul sw ells to m e e t a g re a t o ccasio n or rise s w ith so m e granc
co n cep tio n th e n th e hand as if seek in g to u p lift th e body rise s above
245 th e head. The w hole fram e is e x a lte d along a v e rtic a l lin e . It is th e
250
255
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i
260
i
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265
270
197
m ost im p ressive o f g e stu re s and is usually but n o t alw ays acco m p an ied
by a re so n an t v o ice. I can give but one o r tw o added ex am ples to illu stratej
my m ethod of stu d y . When Mr B ooth as O th ello calls M ichael ju st as!
i
I
he is going o ut saying, "I'll m ake an ex am p le o f you," he uses th is pow erful'
g e stu re o f d ig n ified com m and c o n tra ste d w ith a low , d e te rm in e d incisivej
v oice. '
i
Think o f th is fo r a m om ent. The grand g e stu re shows th a t th e re
is no p e tty or im p o te n t m alice but th e rih teo u s se n te n c e o f a judge who
s a c rific e s a loved frien d fo r th e good o f s ta te and th e c o n stra in t put
upon th e voice m akes it th e m ore te rrib le as show ing th e ju d icial
unsw erving m ind o f th e G en eral. It is a te rrib le th r e a t. (30 m inutes)
T ake a n o th e r one o f th is g re a t a c to rs m eth o d s w hich a re in p e rfe c t
a cc o rd w ith th e b e st th o u g h t upon th e m a tte r by S pen cer, M an teg azza
and o th e rs. A ll a c tio n begins firs t and c ea ses la s t in th e fa c e and eyes,
th a t is in th o se m uscles m ost in use and n e a re s t th e n erv e c e n te rs . The
)
q uiver o f a n o stril, th e lig h tn in g like flash o f th e ey e does fo r Mr. Booth
th a t w hich an in fe rio r a r tis t would p ut in to th e sh o ulder o r elbow . He
has an arm y in his eye w hich he com m ands. He d o m in ates his su b jects
by m ind n o t m uscle. He is n o t obliged to m ove his body m e lo d ra m a tic a lly -
His body m ay be s till but th e play of his fa c e and a c c e n ts o f his v o ic e ,
show th e d ram a is s till going on. A t such p o in ts th e a v erag e a r tis t is ;
e ith e r gross or vilely blank. How w ell he shows th e stru g g le o f w eakness
ag ain st com m anding w ill by th e im perious frow n and g lan ce o f flam e
in L ear and R ich elieu . Show ing as th e p o et B urleigh would say: j
"A Kings blood n e v er runs so low
"In h elo t veins; b u t th a t a frow n
"Shows th e shadow of a crow n
"To slav es o f b a se r m old" j
Though th e lim bs t o t t e r and th e b re a th fa il th e sovereign soul o f R ich elieu
i
i 275 is tem p led on th e rock.
M an teg azza says th e use o f th e ey e is th e la st c ita d e l c a rrie d
by th e a r tis t and no tru e a r tis t has e v e r re a c h e d fir s t p lace w ith o u t som e
fa c ility h e re . M r. B ooths ex p ression of th e eyes is u n su rp assed . A
re v e la tio n in d eed to th e o b serv er. No a c to r equals him in fa c ia l splendor
i
'280 o f ex p ressio n . Eyes filled w ith disdain in P e sca ra as he looks down w ith
j u p tu rn ed fa c e and drooping lids, h a lf-c lo sed in aw ful re v e rie in M acbeth,
i
I filled w ith a tig rish g la re in O th ello . A cross his fa c e th e passions sw eep:
;
lik e shadow s or b laze lik e lig h t from fla m e s w ithin. The rh y th m ic b e a t
o f hands th e a lte rn a te clenchings and sp read in g s o f th e fin g ers, th e calm
285 in th e lo w er lim bs w hile th e fa c e and hands ra g e , all a re b u t m u ltip lied
ex am p les o f his pow er to ex p ress em o tio n s in a m anner w hose ev ery
d e ta il is proven ju st by in d ep en d en t and s c ie n tific in v e stig a tio n .
I tu rn now to his u tte ra n c e . I have n o t tim e fo r a tta in in g an y th in g
lik e a c o m p le te study of his a c tio n . In his u tte ra n c e even th e English
290 c ritic s p lace him a t th e su m m it o f ex p ressio n . H ere th e s tu d e n t o f th e
English language can find it in its pow er and u tm o st p u rity . H e seem s
a m agician tu rn in g th e d ead le tte r s in to quivering n o tes o f song. I do
n o t wish to seem injudicious in my p ra ise b u t w hen I h e ar a m an who
can sta n d upon th e golden m ean b e tw ee n th e g u ttu ra l sn u ffle o f th e E nglish(
295 and th e m e ta llic clan g o f th e A m erican s I b eliev e in giveing him c re d it
fo r it. M r. Irving goes te a rin g along w ith his in o rd in ate use o f com pound
s tre ss and n a sa l q u ality till w e a re w e aried w ith g e ttin g a t th e p ic tu re
199]
thro u g h a sm oked g la ss. But how d e lig h tfu l to s it u n d er th e m agic spell:
o f S hak esp eares w ords as th ey flow from th e lips o f th is su p rem e a rtis t,
300 B ooth. No o b scu rity h e re , no dusky m edium to d e tr a c t b u t m ore th an
| a tra n s p a re n t m edium he p u ts a ro s e a te halo around th e w ords thrilling!
I -
j w ith th e p a ssio n a te love and longing o f th a t m arv ello u s ag e w hen words;
i !
] i
j w ere new from th e m in t o f m ind.
I
; But th is u tte ra n c e w hich seem s so sim ple to th e a v erag e c r itic 1
i
1 305 and w hich he usually d en o m in ates by th e unm eaning te rm "sm oothness"
I is re a lly one o f th e m ost c o m p lic ate o f a r ts . L e t us look a t it a m om ent.
; In th e firs t p lace under th e w ords th e s tre a m o f passion is flow ing. As
|
I S pencer has said so w ell lan g u ag e is com posed o f tw o e le m e n ts, th e w ords
and th e to n es in w hich th e y a re u tte re d . T h at is, signs of id eas and signs
,310 o f passion.
! Words a re su ccessiv e, m a th e m a tic a l, sym bols o f ideas w hich pass
rap id ly th rough consciousness, th e to n es a re enduring and m e lt in to each
j o th e r as th e em o tio n s a re to be ex p ressed . The grouping o f th e w ords
upon b re a st o f th e stre a m o f to n e is th e su p rem e te s t o f a s p e e c h -a rtis t.
i
I
315 Words w hen o f m ore value th a n to n e a re co ntiguous and su ccessiv e but
w hen passion is m ore th an id eas th en th e stre a m b reak s up th e ord erly
succession o f w ords form ing gaps eddies and flu m es o r if stro n g e r in to
g e stu re v io le n t and convulsive th a t th e fo rc e g e n e ra te d by th e em otion!
m ay expend its e lf th e sooner. This is w hat Mr. Irving ra th e r ludicrouslyj
320 called "varying th e p ro n u n ciatio n ." And th e n e a re s t he cam e to voicing
a p rin cip le w as upon th is p o in t. A ll e x cla m a tio n s he should have said
a re n o t w ords b u t to n es, c rie s o f pain and p leasu re. Which can n ot be;
o th erw ise in d ic a te d on th e p rin ted page th a n by le tte r s , and w hat he!
325
330
335
I
340
i
345
200
c alled th e "rig h t pro n u n ciatio n " is sim ply th e rep ro d u c tio n o f th e cry|
w hich th e d ra m a tis t has by th e Q^., o r A in d ic a ted . So g e stu re o f all|
kinds can n o t be w ritte n or even in d ic a te d . T h at is le f t to th e a c to r
i
i
to divine. In f a c t in e m o tio n a l lite r a tu r e and esp ecially th e d ra m a the!
la rg e r p a rt by fa r is u n w ritte n . R ig h t h e re I m ay say th a t th e u ltim ate;
te s t of a w ork o f a r t and e sp ecially o f an a c to r is th e ex p ressiv e pow er.
W hether he v oice th e co m p lete life o f w hich th e d ram a is th e b e st re c o rd .
In th is case w h e th e r he gives th e m arv elo u s life o f S h ak esp eares age
v ita l, e m o tio n a l and lo g ical in th e ir tru e p ro p o rtio n .
P erh ap s I can give a n o th e r p h ase o f th is grouping by changing
my fig u re.
U tte ra n c e is lik e p ain tin g a p ic tu re . P e rsp e c tiv e s, blendings,
h ig h -lig h ts d e m i-tin ts, shadings, b ack -g ro u n d , fo re-g ro u n d a ll m ust en ter;
in th a t th e w ork sh all p re s e n t th e ju s t p ro p o rtio n o f th e p a rts . A ctin g
m ay be said to possess th e a ttr ib u te s o f a p an o ram a linked w ith m usic
and p ain tin g and sc u lp tu re passing sw iftly b e fo re th e ey e. Som e sp eak ers
have no p e rsp e c tiv e , no shadings. T h eir ideas stan d clo se behind th e
fo o t-lig h ts in a row to ein g a c ra c k lik e th e firs t class in sp ellin . They
o u tlin e and a t th e b e st only show th e re la tiv e h eig h ts o f th e ir to w -headed;
m e n ta l progeny. ;
A n o th er class o f sp eak ers use o u tlin e draw ing w ith som e color;
badly laid on, s tif f and unharm onic lik e A ssyrian painting.
G rouping th e n js th e giveing o f re la tiv e v alues to id eas and
em o tio n s. In th is Mr B ooth is th e g re a te s t a r tis t I have e v er h eard . !
---------------- I
*
He p laces a g ran d id ea in th e m iddle d ista n ce , groups a c c e sso rie s
and th ro w s a hig h -lig h t upon it. He flings a single d azzlin g b eam of lig h t
350 upon a d is ta n t o b je c t w hich th e logic o f th e scen e p laces in th e
b ack-ground, he a rra n g es th e su b o rd in ate ideas, d is trib u te s th e grays
and brow ns and b rillian ts in ad m irab le p ro p o rtio n and lo! a g ain st a sober
b ack-ground in its e n tire ty and seem in g sim p lic ity th e p ic tu re gleam s
upon you, and you clap your hands cry in g "superb" and w onder w here
i
355 th e m agic o f it all com es fro m . Spend te n y ears try in g to acq u ire this|
I
I
m arvelous a r t and your re s p e c t fo r th is g re a t a r tis t o f sp eech w ill
m easu rab ly in c re ase .
In sp iratio n Men a re fond of saying th a t th a t w hich fin ish es a picture!
o r s ta tu e , th a t w hich p u ts th e b re a th o f life into th e m arb le and blends
360 th e colors o f a lan d scap e or p o rtr a it giveing th e la s t e x q u isite tu rn to
a quivering lip, is in sp ira tio n . If th is is m ean t sim ply to in d ic a te
p re e m in e n t a r t a ll w ell and good but if as is m ost th e c ase is m ean t
so m eth in g beyond law and w hich can n o t be an aly zed o r allow ed by a n o th er
it is a m istak e and m isleading. The b e a u tifu l pose o f a s ta tu e , th e su b tle
365 blendings o f th e m a ste rp ie c e s of co lo r a re th u s p re e m in e n t b ecause o f
s tr ic t c o n fo rm ity to law . W hich we m ay or m ay n o t u n d erstan d . And,
in p ro p o rtio n to th e ju s t and c o m p le te dom in atio n o f law is th e fineness;
and e ffe c tiv e n e ss o f th e w ork o f a r t. !
|
It d e ro g a tes noth in g from an a r tis ts re a l w o rth to say he p ain ts,
370 chisels, or a c ts in s tr ic t guidance of law and le g itim a te re s u lts a cc ru e .
Indeed it is a h ig h er co m p lem en t th a n to say he w orks blindly, im p elled
by a low er form o f fo rc e as th e bird sings o r th e eag le so ars. In sh o rt
w hen we say an a r tis t is in sp ired we m ean th a t he is p a ra lle l w ith law s
i
w e do not u n d erstan d .
202]
I
375 It has b een so in a ll ages w hat w as n o t w ell und ersto o d has alw ays
i
b een God or D evil.
So o f an a c to r w hen a t th e h e ig h t o f a c tiv ity and passion w hen
e v ery fa c u lty is a t its b e st, he c a tc h e s th e leadings o f a h ig h er e f f e c t,1
I
seein g w ith c le a re r vision a g ra n d e r h e ig h t. It is n o t law lessn ess but
380 th e s tr ic te s t co n fo rm ity to it, h o w ever m y sterio u s it m ay seem a t th e
tim e .
Now if law runs th rough a ll th e a c to rs e ffe c ts as | t m u st, th a t
i law and its e le m e n ts d isco v ered , a n o th e r m ay not only u n d erstan d th e
I
I cau se b u t a tta in th e sam e re su lts.
385 The day is passing w hen m en can to u ch h eig h ts s tric tly im possible
i
; to o th e rs. All a r ts a re having th e ir s u b tle s t law s laid b are.
I
I In no a r t is th is alleg ed law less in sp ira tio n m ore fre q u e n tly spoken
i
i
o f th an in th e use o f th e v oice. ,
I
G e stu re, being m ore tan g ib le and o b je c tiv e , is allow ed to be
390 governed by law b u t in th e singers th rillin g m om ents and in such m om ents
i
as Mr. B ooth gives us in M acbeth, H a m let and L ear th e su b tle cause
is spoken o f as m ag n etism , in sp iratio n e tc .
We a re in d eb ted to D r. R ush fo r id eas on stre ss and m elody but,
m ost o f a ll a re w e in d eb ted to H elm h o ltz th e g re a te s t a u th o rity of all,
395 fo r th e e le m e n ts o f to n e . By th e w on d erfu lly d e lic a te e x p erim en ts of|
th is g re a t th in k e r we le a rn th a t th e re a re th re e e le m e n ts and no m ore
to to n e . P itc h or num ber o f v ib ratio n s, fo rc e o r am p litu d e o f vibrationsj
and q u a lity sh ap e o f th e sound w av es. A fo u rth e le m e n t n o t a p a rt ofj
i
to n e b u t a n e c e ssa ry e le m e n t o f consciousness is tim e , w hich is insep arab ly
I
i
203
400 w oven in w ith th e o th e r th re e . Now e ac h of th e se a re cap ab le ofj
subdivision in to seco n d ary e lem en ts.
Now ob serv e ev ery e f f e c t m ade by th e v oice of Mr. B ooth, B a rre tt
i
or Irving, any a c to r or sin g er, can be d ire c tly tra c e d to th e se elem ents:
l
and th e vary in g p ro p o rtio n s o f th e ir m ix tu res. And th e h ig h est com plim ent^
405 I can pay Mr B ooth from my hum ble stan d p o in t as stu d e n t is I find him
an alm o st p e rfe c t e x em p lific atio n of a ll law s known to m e upon ex p ression.
I propose now to speak o f him b rie fly in th e o rd e r and re la tiv e
! to th e se four g re a t e le m e n ts. I s e le c t b u t a sin g le ex am ple from each .
One o f th e m ost m arvelous o ccu rs in th e e lem en t o f tim e , th a t
410 o f th e ellip se o f w hich I have spoken. And also in his incom parable^
know lege of pauses and r a te , o r re la tiv e tim e values. T h ere is no p o in t
i
o f g r e a te r m isapprehension by th e c lo se t re a d e r of S h ak esp eare th a n
th a t o f use o f tim e . Both in th e ellip se and r a te .
I have n ev er known one for in sta n c e who did not co n ceiv e o f th e
(415 Scene b etw een H am let and his m o th e r as so m eth in g lik e th is: H am let,
speaking calm ly, ju d icially .—P ause. T hen th e queen p ro te stin g in a sad
v oice. P au se. H am let again, pause and so on. But w hat a rev elatio n !
to see th e w rith in g s and h e a r sh riek s o f th e g u ilty w om an as h e r son!
i
stan d s o v er h e r lik e an avenging an g el, th e rush th e w hirlw ind of id eas
420 b lastin g as lig h tn in g , sea rin g lik e fla m e , stro k e s redoubling lik e th e blows
o f a w hip. T he sw ift a g ita te d b ut d e te rm in e d to n es o f H am let th e pale
b eau ty of his fa c e , his te rrib le a lte rn a tio n s o f filia l love and ju d ic ia l;
i
ste rn e ss, m ake it an aw fu l scen e. P roving ag ain how fu tile a re th e e ffo rts I
I
o f th e a u th o r to w rite th e g re a te r p a rt o f th e life he try s to d e p ic t. j
425
430
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435
440
445
450
204]
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The em o tio n and th e in te lle c t a re a t a h eig h t. They k eep pacei
w ith each o th e r. All is a t w hite h e a t. J u s t a w ord re la tiv e to th e tim e
values. It is m a n ife st th a t all w ords have n o t th e sam e value and hence
have no claim to eq u al tim e . j
P assing now to p itch we find w h at is com m only know n as melody!
o f sp eech in w hich Mr. Booth co n fessed ly ex cells. The d eep te n d e r1
cad en ces o f H am let or M acbeth once h eard lin g e r in th e e a r lik e a grave!
I
ric h m elody. N one knows so w ell th e "golden p ath lying b etw een m ajestic,
speech and m eltin g m usic." i
All is law h e re . Mr. S pencer and H elm h o ltz have given us the;
law s h e re . F o r a single ex am p le. A ll dep ressin g em otions un iv ersally
sink th e voice to lo w er p itc h , risin g o r fallin g as th e wind o f passion
passes o v er th e in stru m e n t o f voice.
So in H am let w e h e ar Mr. B ooth dropping th e p itc h , dow n, down,;
as though sounding th e d ep th s o f d esp airin g th o u g h t like th e cadences!
rung from a d eep -to n ed b ell fallin g th ro u g h th e n ig h t. !
L isten to him in M acbeth w hen th e burly but boyish c h a ra c te rl
o f th e n o rth e rn w a rrio r is rip en ed in to a d re a d m anhood w hose speculations!
I
drop, p lu m m ets in to th e o bscure beyond.
H ear how th e h arsh im p e ra tiv e v o ice o f th e c h ie fta in ta k e s on
a d ep th a g ra v ity , a w ealth o f in flec tio n s th a t is n obler th an song.
R em em b er him as he stan d s w ith d ream y unseeing h a lf-c lo sed
eyes w alking his shadow y land o f h allu cin atio n .
D uncan is in his g rav e. A fte r life s f itfu l fe v e r he sleeps w ell. !
I
H ere th e w hole trem en d o u s d ra m a is being played w ithin. War
is a shadow life , b u t a sw iftly m oving p a g e a n t to w ard an aw fu l abyss.
205
M acbeth is b a ttlin g tis tru e but it is an inw ard and hopeless b a ttle . Alii
o u tw ard a c tio n c ea ses, th e arm s a re folded, n o th in g m oves but th e organs
o f sp eech pouring fo rth th a t w o n d erfu l to n e w hose sound brings in to
m ind, fu n e ra l tra in s w ith trap p in g s o f sab le, th e soundless n ig h t, th e
455 ch ill s tre a m (fifty m inutes) and a ll know n and unknow n re m e m b ra n ce s
and em otions of gloom and d e a th . A ll th e ech o es o f w ailing and so rro w 1
w hich sleep in o u r b rains a com m on in h e rita n c e of w oe. The speech
o f no o th e r m an e v e r m oved m e, held m e, as his sublim e u tte ra n c e o f
th is su p re m est tra g e d y o f re m o rse , and som nam bulism in a w orld o f
460 d ream s. The e f f e c t o f any such passag e is su b jec tiv e and e x tre m e ly
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! c o m p lic ate and as I have shown th e m eans is n o t sim ple. It is a m ix tu re
\
j of fo u r g re a t e le m e n ts as I have also in d ic a te d . L et us an aly ze it.
F irst th e re is slow tim e . A lig h t th o u g h t ta k e s but a m om ent
|
| to skip th ro u g h th e b rain fle e t as a b ird o r lik e th e ste p o f a laughing
t
465 child. Sorrow w alks w ith tra ilin g sab le, ry th m ic tre a d , w hose ev ery
fo o t-fa ll deadens th e h e a rts slow b e a t. M a tte rs o f g re a t m om ent o th e r
th ings being eq u al ta k e slow tim e .
2nd th e re is m onotonous p itc h or m elody slig h tly d e v iatin g from :
a single low to n e. !
470 G rave and so rro w fu l m a tte rs sink th e v o ice to low p itc h , light!
and happy m oods go up. E ach em o tio n has its sp ec ific d ev iatio n from j
I
a fu n d am en tal p itc h . And in th is c ase th e m onotone shows th a t a single]
th o u g h t is re tu rn in g ag ain and ag ain to d o m in ate consciousness. B eside
th e se th e re a re fo rm s o f stre ss and q u a lity , th e tw o rem ain in g e lem en ts.
i
475 T hese a re th e cau ses. The e f f e c t is su b je c tiv e , th a t is, th e aw akening!
o f sleeping em o tio n s w ithin our own b ra in s. T h ere is no em o tio n in th e
206]
to n e , no e ffe c t in th e m ean s. Mr. S p en cer says by m eans of th e tonesj
joined to g e stu re w e a re ab le n ot m erely to u n d erstan d b u t to p a rta k e l
of th e em o tio n f e lt by th e w rite r as we w itn ess a fine a c to rs w ork. This-
i
480 is as good as saying th a t w hen w e th in k as M acbeth we a re for th e tim e
I
being M acbeth or m ore p ro perly we a re th in k in g in com m on w ith
S h ak esp eare, and th a t I ta k e it is th e su b tle cause o f our e x tre m e p leasu re
in it. F or a sh o rt tim e w e u p lift w ith th e g ran d eu r o f R ich ilieu or have
a g re a te r fulness o f life in M acbeth or L ear.
485 W ith one q u a lific a tio n we m ay say th a t th e ric h e r is an a c to rs
use o f th e se e le m e n ts o f to n e th e g re a te r w ill be his e ffe c t and th e m ore
o f m oving asso ciatio n s w ill he c a ll up. B ut a ll e ffe c ts m ust converge.,
And aro u se n o th in g w hich shall n o t c o n trib u te to w ard th e e f f e c t sought.]
V ariety is good but v a rie ty w ith harm ony o f e ffe c ts is b e tte r.
490 H ere is th e m easu re o f Mr. B ooths a r t, he to u c h es th e springs
o f asso ciatio n .
To a m an o f im ag in atio n his rich ly in fle c te d v o ice co m es and
splendid m y sterio u s im ag es spring. F o rg o tte n m em ories rise and floaty
f
lik e co n co rd an t fa m ilia r echoes o f th e c e n tra l to n e . [
495 He dim ly fe e ls th e shadow o f th e d e ath scen es of his ra c e and^
h ears fa in tly th e ir w ailing. S o m etim es an echo fro m th e p a st upsprings
like th e boom o f a b ell from o u t a w aitin g se a . Anon he is conscious
o f a vague feelin g o f d elig h t like th a t w hich com es from looking upon
th e g litte r and gleam o f a rm e d m en. A gain he runs to b e n e a th th e trees:
500 w here life is fre e from m ind and basks u n d er th e le av e s on su n lit hills. j
Do I m ean th a t Mr B ooth th in k s th e se things! N ot a ll, it mayj
or it m ay not be in his m ind. It is e n tire ly su b jec tiv e , p erso n al. But as]
5 0 5
510
515
520
5 2 5
2 0 7
w e have a ll such im pressions v ery larg ely in com m on it is v ery likely
to be in his m ind how ever unconsciously.
F or ex am p le, th e re a re th o se who can n o t h e a r th e p e c u lia r droning
sound o f th e b ag -p ip e w ith o u t a stra n g e and p o w erfu l feelin g o f m ingled
d elig h t and vague te rro r . Is it in th e to n e? N ot a t a ll, it is th e brain
of th e h e a re r and com es from his S c o ttish a n c e stry . It m ay be th e e ffe ctl
o f a thousand scen es o f b a ttle or fe a stin g closely a sso c ia te d w ith th e
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sound. !
In w hich o f th e se elem en ts of to n e lies e sse n tia lly M r. Booth's!
su p rem acy ? P erh ap s in th e use o f p itc h . F or a ll th e se e ffe c ts ju st noted;
a re m ore closely allied to p itch or m elody. Though th e o th e r elem entsj
i
a re so fin ely m ingled as to m ake such. j
F o r ages m en h ave voiced and h eard voiced th e ir em o tio n s inj
m usical to n e and th ey a re in sep arab ly c o n n ected w ith it. Now th is speaker,
by his w ealth o f in fle c tio n s and use o f r a te , fo rc e and q u a lity a ro u ses(
th e vague em o tio n s w hich serv e as re v e rb e ra tio n s stre n g th in g th e cen tral;
i
em o tio n , a ll h arm o n ic. O bserve if he w ere to use a v ulgar inflection!
or a cad en ce e x tra n eo u s to th e e f f e c t sought; a d iffu sio n would result!
I
and th e harm ony invaded. But so finished and p e rfe c t h as he becom ej
th a t no flaw is easily d e te c te d in th e splendid c re a tio n s o f his v o ice. J
This sam e im pression is given b u t in m uch le sse r d eg ree by S alvini.
He is how ever to o g u tte r a l in q u a lity and less m usical and c le a r c u t.
T hese e f f e c ts a re n o t in M r. Irvings v oice and he n e v er can touch;
th e h eig h t o f e ith e r o f th e o th e rs. He is to o dry and h arsh and lack s
I
th e m usical e le m e n t w ith w hich th e se em o tio n s a re la rg e ly linked.
I
530
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i
i
535
i
540
545
550
208j
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In th e p assages I have n o ted in M acbeth and H am let, though^
in flec tio n s a re num erous th e y a re n o t w ide, th e te n d en c y is to w ard a'
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m onotone. This is in th e h ig h est d eg ree ju st, though c ritic s have im p u ted
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it to B ooth as a m annerism . F or a m onotone re su lts from a single em o tio n 1
d om in atin g consciousness, it is s a fe to say th a t if b u t a single em o tio n
o f unvarying in te n sity w ere to d o m in ate consciousness th e to n e would
n o t change in fo rc e or p itc h .
H ence in H am let or M acbeth as th e d read fu l or sad th o u g h t re tu rn s
again and ag ain to w eigh upon th e soul it is ex p ressed by th e te n d en c y
to m onotone, slow tim e . While pauses o r stre ss e d q u ality show s th e p o e tic
d re a m er, w hose lack o f reso lu tio n is in d ic a te d in th e m edian s tre ss .
L e t us now convoke th e th ird o f th is g re a t h ie ra rc h y o f pow ers,
"fo rc e ," w hich show s th e in te n sity o f th e em o tio n .
One o f th e firs t g re a t law s o f th e fo rc e o f an em o tio n is: a ll
em otions begin, rise to a clim ax and ebb aw ay in a calm .
A second law is all e x tre m e s o f em otions th e m ost d iv erse begin
and end in th e sam e w ay, th a t is in c o n stric tio n s o f th e m uscles. How
w ell does th e g re a t a c to r obey th is law . How w ell has he le a rn e d th a t
e x tre m e s o f ra g e or g rie f do not explode in a b u rst o f sound, sh outing
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w ith open th ro a t. H e has been c ritic is e d fo r his u tte ra n c e o f th e la s t1
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w ords in th e c e le b ra te d scen e from R ich ilieu but he has th e b e st scie n tificj
a u th o rity on his sid e. It is a physical f a c t th a t a t such a h eig h t of passion,-
a c o n stric tio n of th e th ro a t, a clen ch in g o f th e te e th ta k e s p la ce and
th e sh o u t o f ra g e dies aw ay in a h arsh sn arlin g in a rtic u la te cry.
(R ight h ere it m ay do to s ta te th a t th e paw ing a t th e th r o a t which'
is Mr. Irving's m an n erism , had its origin in th e c o n stric tio n o f th e th ro a t).
209
How tru e is Mr. B ooth to th e law s o f th e grow th o f th e pow er
555 o f th e em o tio n in th a t p assio n ate clim ax . An in fe rio r a c to r would have
s ta r tle d us by y ells ending w ith a shout o f d e fia n c e .
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But w atch th is m an as he g a th e rs th e sw eeping folds o f his cardinals!
ro b es around him , look how he com es to th e a tta c k e a c h tim e rising higher
till th e clim ax is stru c k and th e old m an flinging in to th e cu rse th e w hole
560 s tre n g th o f his im p e ria l soul into a gasping, sn arl, stan d s a m om ent
quivering th e n falls in to th e arm s o f th e a tte n d a n t w hispering, dum bly
i praying, kissing th e c ru c ifix w hile a deep th rill running thro u g h ev ery
! h e a rt te lls th a t th e h ig h est p o in t o f a r t has b een stru c k by a finished
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i and in sp ira tio n a l m a ste r o f e x p re ss io n .-----------------------------
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‘565 This pow er o f strik in g th e clim ax and giveing its ground-sw ell
j is one o f th e th ings w hich th e a m a te u r m ust gain b e fo re he can m ove
j his au d ien ce. The m ore o fte n such an a m a te u r strik e s w ith o u t prevision
J and w ith o u t lo g ic a l seq u en ce. T h erefo re he finds his au d ien ce u n p rep ared ,
he plays upon lax strin g s, th e y m ay by s tirrin g sh o u ts be s ta r tle d in to
570 applause b u t it is very fa r from being th e e f f e c t o f an a r tis t who by a<
series o f stro k e s m akes te n se th e n erv es o f his h e a re rs till th e y v ib rate;
in harm ony w ith his fin al stro k e , b re a th le ss and absorbed.
In g e n e ra l I should say Mr. B ooth gives fo rce its rig h tfu l p lace
and if anything su b o rd in a tes it to p itc h and tim e . A v ita l a c to r pins
575 his fa ith to fo rc e and soundless n o te and e r r a tic ch an g es o f p itc h . This
gives w hat is known as th e florid sty le . R a n t is sim ply fo rc e applied,
w ith o u t ju d g em en t. S till su b tle r a re th e fo rm s o f sp ec ia l fo rc e and in
th e m in u te st de ta il M r. B ooth is fa ith fu l. The te rrib le m alig n ity o f P e sca ra
and Iago is bro u g h t o u t by th e use o f te rm in a l stre ss on th e to n e e lem en ts.
210
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580 It shows th e fix ed d e te rm in a tio n o f th e c h a r a c te r to p e rfo rm w hat hej
prom ises. A nger, ind ig n atio n would be show n by th e ra d ic a l s tre ss . Behind
th e one is energy behind th e o th e r energ y and purpose. ,
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Mr. B arron show s Iagos en erg y , Mr. B ooth th e cool devillish1
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c a lc u la te d h a te . W hich n o t only strik e s th e d ag g er hom e b u t tw ists it
585 in th e wound.
It is his use o f ra d ic a l stre ss w hich m akes his u tte ra n c e so c le a r
and co ncise. And th e m edian stre ss w hich m akes his read in g o f th e lev el
lin es so ex q u isite. We w ill now speak fo r a single m om ent o f th e fo u rth
e le m e n t o f to n e . T he q u ality is K lang, th a t is, th e p e c u lia rity im p a rte d
590 to a to n e d istinguishing its sense.
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You w ill a t once see th a t as th is q u a lity depends upon th e position,
i and shape o f th e org an s o f sp eech , th a t e ac h s ta te o f th e soul w ill possess
| its d istin c t q u ality or p erso n ality . M alignant h a te w ill sn arl w ith raised
lip lik e th e w olf or tig e r, d e fia n t rag e ro a r lik e th e lion, love w ill use
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j 595 a cooing or b re a th in g to n e , tre a c h e ro u s h a te w ill v e n t its e lf in serp en tin e
hisses and joy sing as th e bird. And th u s th rough th em a ll w ill run th e
sp eak ers p erso n ality . Mr. B ooth seem s to have com m and o f a ll these!
fo rce s and though he seldom descends to w h at is c alled disguising th e
v oice y e t in L ear and R ich elieu he is sin g u larly su ccessfu l in sinking
600 th e splendid q u ality o f his n a tu ra l voice in th e a lte rn a te w eaknesses
and b u rsts o f s tre n g th o f th e se re g a l souls.
Thus I have given a few exam ples o f my m eth o d o f stu d y o f th is
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g re a t a c to r and I am so rry th a t my tim e has n o t allow ed of m ore com pletej
illu stra tio n s.
King o f a d e ath less re a lm is he,
M agical lim n er o f lives gone by
Whose passions we re a d in his so v ereig n voice
And see in th e splendid flash o f his eye.
A bsolute m a ste r, m a ste r o f hopes and fe a rs
W hich ra n th ro u g h th e h e a rts o f th e N orthland ra c e
Who dark ly fa re d on a som bre sea
M eeting life s m y ste rie s fa c e to fa c e .
A sea-d w ellin g P ro sp ero 's w and is h is.
C om m anding a su b tle sp irit th a n he
F or A riels fla m e s and w h ite w aves hiss
A re gross to his voices su b tle ty .
Around us splendid visions flo a t an d flow .
In m isty ra d ia n ce lines, d eep er th a n song,
T hrob in on th e b rain , dim echoings rise
And s ta r tle d m em o ries th rill and th ro n g .
M ysterious touchings o f d u st laid hands.
F o rg o tte n voices and tim e s and to n es
W aken and s tir as his H am let speak s
Or sw a rt O th ello sobs and groans.
We shudder, w hen rude M acbeth d eep -d ream in g , stan d s
In aw fu l re v e rie "H e sleep s w ell" —
As th e d eep v oice rich w ith its d re a d rem o rse
S tops, sinks, sounds deep like a fallin g bell.
630
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640
645
650
212]
V oices o f sile n t lo ves and h a te s, in him
The m outh o f th e dead p a st finds a to ngue
Yea! up fro m th e dust th e ir v o iceless lips
B re ath e ric h e st m usic e v er sung.
A t his su b tle to u ch a host upsprings
From th e sile n t page p rin ces, c o u rtie rs, th e fe a rs
M ajestic fo llies and p rides of Kings
Whose kingdom s a re m yths in th e vanished y e a rs.
R ic h elie u ’ s im p e ria l soul te m p le d on rock and L ear ;
1
Whose tim e -b la n c h e d h air and failin g b re a th .
Is th e e te rn a l tra g e d y o f ag e and decay
U niversal fa ll o f w in ters and d e ath .
Born of th e gloom o f th e n o rth -lan d ra c e
Down th e tra d itio n s o f a thousand y ears
T he m y th ical H am let speaks th ro u g h him
O f a peoples d esp air to o deep fo r te a rs .
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Those h e a rts a re d u st w ith au g u st b rain j
O f th e d e ath less d re a m er, w hose w ork w as w rought
When he ro se in lin es on th e cold w h ite pages
The m easu reless visions th e ag es b ro u g h t. .
B ut th in e , Oh a r tis t, is th e genius to m ake th em liv e
And th in e is th e a r t to m ake us fe e l
The e te r n a l kinship o f m an to m an
And th e p ow er th a t ru les th ro u g h th e c e n tu ry ’s w heel.
. _ . _ _
T E X T U A L A P P A R A T U S
E d i t o r i a l E m e n d a t i o n s
O f th e one hundred e d ito ria l in te rv e n tio n s in th e so u rce d o cu m en t,
six ty -e ig h t co n cern p u n c tu atio n , usually th e supplying of com m as and periods
( w here G arland has in d ic a ted th e se by a la rg e r w hite sp ace. The n a tu re of these|
in te rv e n tio n s a re liste d h ere by freq u en cy : |
P u n c tu a tio n 68
Spelling c o rre c tio n - p ro p er nam es 9
A ddition o f linking v erb o r p rep o sitio n 9
Spelling c o rre c tio n - w ords H am lin G arland usually
sp elled c o rre c tly 4
Pronoun re fe re n c e c la rific a tio n 3
E xcision o f w ord 3|
S u b stitu tio n of w ord %
C om pounding of s e p a ra te d w ords 1
Expansion o f a b b re v iatio n 1,
21 in te lle c tu a l] in te lle c u a l
35 cu t,] c u t
50 D ixey] D ixley
56 K now les,] K now les
C ooke] Cook
61 "m ag n etic voice"] m ag n etic voice"
65 T alm a] T alm an
66 unction.] unction
68 th e em otions] th e th e em otions
80 th e re ,] th e re
83 m otion,] m otion
86 soul. It] soul it
91 w ork o f H elm holtz] w ork H elm h o ltz
92 M an teg azza,] M an teg azza
97 cu ltu red ] c u tu re d
108 Ja k e , th e w ind-m ill;] Ja k e th e w ind-m ill
110 b e au ties,] b e a u tie s
123 c h a ra c te riz a tio n s . They] c h a ra c te riz a tio n s th ey
126 R om an?] rom an.
135 Booth] him
160 him .] him . .
167 m en tal.] m e n ta l
171 B ooth—] B ooth.—
175 Irving] him
177 p lay er,] p lay er
178 d ram a,] d ram a
197 upon] upons
202 R ussell] R ussel
207 H am let?] H am let
208 S hakespeare] Shak.
y ears,] y ears.
214
209 shadow ,] shadow
212 w rites,] w rite s
who so voices] who voices
216
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L ear,] L ear
Oedipus] Edipus
'223 O thello] O hello
230-231 It is safe] It sa fe
241 o f o u trag ed ] of o f o u tra g e d
249 you,] you
264 m elo d ram atically .] m elo d ram atically
280 P escara] P e s c a rra
287 in v estig atio n .] in v e stig atio n
308 e lem en ts,] e le m e n ts
309 is,] is
322 to n es,] to n es
323 le tte rs ,] le tte r s
326 in d ic a te d . T hat] in d ic a ted th a t
332 v ita l,] v ita l
336 back-ground,] back-ground
345 on,]on
354 "superb"] "superb*
363 an o th er] an o th e r
379 h eig h t. It] h eig h t it
382 m ust,] m ust
383 disco v ered , an o th er] d iscovered an o th e r
387-388 spoken o f th an in] spoken o f in th an in
389 G estu re, . . . o b jectiv e,] G estu re . . . o b je ctiv e
402 voice o f Mr.] voice Mr.
B a rre tt] B arre t
403 singer,] sin g er
409 tim e ,] tim e
410 in] is
415 this:] th is.
426 o th e r.] o th e r
438 down, down] down down
443 drop,] drop
beyond.] beyond
448 is in his g rav e.] is his g rav e.
450 life,] life
abyss.] abyss
452 ceases,] c eases
458 m oved m e,] m oved me
460 su b jectiv e] su b jec tiv e .
465 sab le,] sable
474 qu ality ,] q u a lity
475 cau ses. The] causes th e
th a t is,] th a t is
478 we a re able] w e able
507 to n e? N ot a t all,] to n e . N ot a t all
512 sup rem acy ? P erhaps] su p rem acy , p erh ap s
517 ra te ,] r a te
520 sought;] sought
215
523 Salvini.] Salvini
528 H am let,] H am let
531 Booth] him
539-540 ."f o r c e ."] " fo rc e "
542 begin,] begin
554 g row th o f th e pow er] g ro w th th e pow er
;562 praying,] praying
j567 an a m ateu r] one
570 of an a rtis t] o f a r tis t
'578 P escara] P e sc a rra
581 A nger,] A nger
|589 th a t is,] th a t is
591 upon] up
^99 singularly] singulary
609 m a ste r, m aster] m a ste r m a ste r
618 song,] song
626 w ell"—] w ell".-
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i
D e ta ils o f In scrip tio n in M an u scrip t
The follow ing ta b le o f a n n o ta tio n re lie s upon th e se a b b rev iatio n s: j
ab. = above. a f t. = a f te r del. = d e le te d in se rtd . = in se rte d . j
in te rl. = in te rlin e d ri. = w ritte n in re d ink riu . = u n d erlin ed in red ink. j
wu. = w avy u nderline HG = H am lin G arland.
r. = re c to v. = verso (The num ber p reced in g a b b re v ia tio n is le a f num ber.) |
[T itle G arland] in s e rtd . a f t. a t b o tto m le ft o f p ag e is a draw ing o f a rig h t-
iLeaf] po in tin g fin g er follow ed by th is n o te in pen cil: "Speak to th em of basis
of le c tu re ."
8 scan tily ] a f t . d el. "poorly"
15 his own] a f t. in s e rtd . n o te on 2v.:
"Begin by show ing th a t th e pop u lar ju d g em en t is n o t able to re a c h
th e h igher B eginning o f H am let.
An a r tis t is w hat he is from th e e ffe c ts he produces, so o f a play."
23 The . . . E xpression .] riu . b o tto m u n d erlin e only
(34 c ab a listic ] in s e rtd . ab . firs t "a" is th e p ro n u n ciatio n sym bol to in d ic a te
| a sh o rt vow el.
|76-77 To . . . tr u th .] riu .
,77-78 Who . . . sem i-sav ag e.] in se rtd . a f t . "tru th "
,81-82 essen ce . . . m a tte r .] riu .
j89— 90 governed . . . s ta tic s .] riu .
[91 th e work] in te rl. w ith c a re t
92-97 I say . . . lin es.] in s e rtd . from 5v. HG has in d ic a te d in sertio n w ith draw ing
o f le ft-p o in tin g fin g e r a f t. "Brow n."
[95 dependency] in te rl. w ith c a re t
100-103 I s ta te . . . clam o r.] Superim posed v e rtic a lly o v er th is p arag rap h is
| a n o te: "unconscious law o f sequence"
113-114 th e y . . . g e n e ra l-id e a s .] riu .
121-122 He . . . th o u g h t.] ri.
132 blind] a f t . del. "m ad"
|136 logic] riu .
[144-145 N othing . . . L essing.] ri
152-153 So . . . "p o in ts"] riu .
155-156 re la tio n a l . . . p a rtic u la r] riu . wu.
159-161 The g ran d er . . . actin g .] in se rtd . a f t . "O thello"
162 Now . . . p o w e r.] riu . !
166 While] a f t. d el. "Now"
passions] riu .
167 id e al . . . w ho] riu .
in d ic a te s ] riu . and w u. b o tto m underline only
168-169 In . . . re la tio n s.] in te rl. ab . d el. "and th a t to o in a re la tio n a l way"
171 p erhaps to] in te rl. ri. w ith c a re t
173 He n e v er . . . h im self.] in te rl. ri. w ith c a r e t I
176 de tails] w u. b e n ea th la s t five le tte r s as re m in d e r to pronounce accen t,
on second sy llab le. I
177 . . . tra g e d ia n ] wu.
186 scan ty ] in te rl. w ith c a re t
187 H ence . . . u n iv e rsa l.] riu .
_________ d ep ict] in te rl. w ith c a r e t
217]
192 when] in te rl. w ith c a r e t ;
to m e] in te rl. w ith c a r e t j
194-196 And . . . us] a f t . d e l on 10v.: "And th e d ream s o f th e g re a t p o et a re
in v ested by an aw fu l su b lim ity . Mr. W illiam A rch er w ro te th a t w hen
Irving played H am let he th o u g h t H am let m ight" |
197-198 or . . . s tre e t.] in te rl. ri.
ll99 (20)] pencil. HG's n o ta tio n o f elap sed read in g tim e .
202 R ussell] ab . d el. "W illiam A rcher"
204-205 N othing . . . id e a .] riu .
|210 fru itless] in te rl. w ith c a r e t
|212 p o et . . . an] in te rl. w ith c a re t
[213-214 J u st . . . youth] in te rl. ri.
1218 jis] wu.
[224-225 An . . . hand.] ri.
230 in tr ic a te and] ab . d el. "in fin ite passion"
i230— 233 It . . . co m p eers.] in se rtd . ri.
1235 (read lines)] in se rtd . a f t. "d etail."
■237 th o u g h t] riu .
i237— 238 Who . . . ideas.] in te rl. ri. w ith c a re t.
i247-248 I . . . study.] in te rl. ri.
1253 o r im p o ten t] in te rl. w ith c a re t.
1258 S pencer] in te rl. w ith c a re t.
|260 th a t . . . c e n te rs.] in te rl.
1261 Mr. Booth] ab . d el. "him "
|262— 264 He . . . m e lo d ra m a tica lly .] in se rtd . from 13v. HG has so in d icated
i w ith draw ing o f le ft-p o in tin g fin g er a f t. "elbow ."
|268 by . . . flam e] in te rl. ab . d el. "in"
274-275 Though . . . rock.] in se rtd . r i
279 indeed] in te rl. w ith c a r e t
279-280 No . . . e x p ressio n .] riu .
284 fingers] in se rtd . ri.
285 m u ltip lied ] a f t . d el. "added"
285-287 m u ltip lied . . . in v e stig a tio n .] riu .
288-289 I tu rn . . . actio n .] ri. A d e co ratio n follow s "actio n ," p erh ap s to in d ic a te
a pause.
288 I have n o t tim e] ab . d el. "despairing"
292 in to . . . song.] in te rl. ri. j
298 sm oked g la s s .] riu .
300 m edium ] ab . d el. "p ersp ectiv e"
307-310 As . . . passion.] ri.
309 and th e] ab . d el. "w hich express"
310 passion.] ab . d el. "language."
313-314 The . . . to n e ] riu .
to n e ] ab. d el. "em otion"
sp eech-] in se rtd . ri.
317-318 or . . . convulsive] in te rl. ri. w ith c a r e t
322 w ords] riu .
c rie s] riu .
324 "rig h t p ro n u n ciatio n ] ri. fo r q u o ta tio n m arks only
325 by . . . A ] in te rl. ri. w ith c a re t
327-328 In f a c t 7". . u n w ritten .] in se rtd . ri.
333 grouping] in te rl. ri. w ith c a r e t ________________
218
339 and scu lp tu re] ri. ab . d el. u n d ecip h erab le c a n c e lla tio n t
342 o f th e ir] in se rtd . ri.
344 o u tlin e ] riu . |
346-347 G rouping . . . em o tio n s.] riu .
353 p ic tu re ] in te rl. ri. w ith c a re t
356 o f speech] in te rl. w ith c a re t
357 in crease.] Follow ing th is w ord is a w avy-line d eco ratio n .
358 In sp iratio n ] ri.
360 or p o rtra it] in te rl. ri. w ith c a re t
giveing] ab . d el. "p u ttin g "
362 a rt] in te rl. ri. w ith c a re t
363 o r allow ed] in te rl. w ith c a re t
379-380 js . . .jit,] riu .
382 11 m u st] riu .
393 id eas on] in se rtd . ri.
;395 fo r . . . to n e .] a f t. d el. "upon sound"; riu .
;397 P itc h ] riu .
,397-398 fo rc e . . . sound w av es.] riu .
!401 into] ri. fo r la s t tw o le tte r s only
402-403 ev ery . . . e le m e n ts ] riu .
'404 and] ri. o v er "an"
! the] in te rl. ri.
| of th e ir m ix tu res] in te rl. ri.
:405 stu d en t] in s e rtd . ab . ri. a t to p o f 20v.: "(24)" This can n o t be a n o te
I o f elap sed tim e sin ce th irty -m in u te m ark w as in scrib ed a t line 256.
;408 I . . . each .] in s e rtd . ri.
1410-411 And . . . values] in te rl. ri.
,413 Both . . . ra te .] in te rl. ri.
!414 fo r in stan ce] in te rl. ri. w ith c a re t
417 P a u se .] riu . w u.
pause] riu . wu.
,421-423 The sw ift . . . scen e.] r i. a f t. del. "T h ere is no pause h e re , no h altin g "
426-428 J u st . . . eq u al tim e .] in se rtd . ri.
:430 ex cells.] a f t. is del.: "L et us see why."
435 exam ple] ab . d el. "in stan ce"
457-460 The sp eech . . . d ream s.] in se rtd . ri.
462 also . . . it.] ri.
also] ab . d el. "shown" |
464 fle e t as] ri. ab . d el. "like" j
lik e th e step ] in te rl. w ith c a r e t j
465 tra ilin g sable] in te rl. w ith c a re t
468 m elody] a b . d e l. "pich"
470 th e voice] in te rl. j
471 sp ecific] in te rl. ri. w ith c a re t 1
475-477 aw akening . . . m ean s.] riu . i
476-477 th e to n e] HG's co n n ectio n of u n d erlin e fo r th e se tw o w ords is n o t
re ta in e d due to page b reak .
479-483 This . . . in it.] in se rtd . ri. !
■ 487 B ut . . . con v erg e.] in se rtd . ri.
502-503 B ut . . . com m on.] riu .
506 m ingled] in te rl. ri.
,507 vague] in te rl. ri. w ith c a r e t ______________________
219
512 suprem acy] in te rl. ri.
513-514 Though . . . such.] in s e rtd . ri.
520 ex tran eo u s . . . r e s u lt] riu .
523 m uch] ri. ab . d el. "a"
524 to o g u tte ra l] riu .
J to o ] ri. is fin a l "o"
526 e ith e r] a f t. d el. "Salvini"
la c k s] riu .
536-537 te n d en c y to] in te rl. w ith c a r e t
537 While pauses] in te rl. ab . d el. "and"
540 in ten sity ] a f t . d e l. "speakers"
o f th e em o tio n .] ri.
541 th e force] ri. is "the"
of an em o tio n is:] ri.
542 calm .] ab . d el. "ground-sw ell"
552 a t th e th ro a t] in te rl. w ith c a re t
560 into] ab . d el. "w ith"
564 ] R ep re se n ts a 2 ?/8 " ru le a f t. "ex pression."
|567 such] ab . d el. "he"
602 Thus] a f t. a blank sp ac e o f 1/3 page
'613 wand] ab . d e l., "pow er"
616 gross] ab . d el. "rude"
1638 failin g b re a th .] a b . d el. " to tte rin g step "
^39 ag e and decay] ab . d el. "decay and d e ath "
640 and d eath ] ab . d el. "chill"
2201
D ivision o f L eav es
The follow ing ta b le shows how G arlan d 's in scrip tio n is divided among!
th e leav es o f th e so u rce d o cu m en t. The line n u m bers r e fe r to th is te x t. Thej
w ord "blank" in d ic a te s th e re is no v erso in scrip tio n on th a t le a f. All o f G arland's!
in scrib ed page num bers a p p ea r a t to p c e n te r o f le a f . i
A bb rev iatio n s: r . = re c to v. = verso ri. = w ritte n in red ink
L eaf
N o.
l r .
I
I v .
2 r.
2 v .
3 r.
3v.
f -
4 v.
5 r.
5v.
6 r.
6 v .
7 r.
j?v.
8r.
8 v .
9 r.
9v.
jlOr.
10v.
; l l r .
|llv .
<12r.
'12v.
;13r.
13v.
Line
N o.
[T itle
le a f]
1
[T itle ]
15
30
42
55
68
93-99
82
105
121
134
149
167
179
194
209
224
244
262-
F irst Word
of L eaf
Edwin
L adies
Edwin
Begin . . . p la y .] D oes n ot
ap p ea r in th is te x t as it is
G a r la n d 's n o te to h im s e lf. See
e d ito ria l e m en d a tio n s, lin e 15.
his own
o f in fo rm atio n
Now
reh ash ed
th e em otions
I say . . . lin e s .] G a rla n d
in d ic a te s th is as m a te r ia l to be
in se rte d fo llo w in g "B row n" on
6 r . , lin e 92 th is t e x t .
A ll
b la n k
in
He
From
b la n k
th e d e ft
o th e rs
A lth o u g h
And . .
G a rla n d .
H G 's In scribed
P age N um bers
m ight] C a n c e lle d by
See e d ito ria l
em en d a tio n s, lin e s 1 9 4 -1 9 5 .
And
th e doubts
An
b la n k
to
He . . . m e lo d r a m a tic a lly .]
G a rla n d in d ic a tes th is as
m a te ria l to be in se rte d
2 ri.
3 ri.
4 ri.
5 ri.
6 ri.
7
8 r i.
9
10
11
12
221
L eaf
N o.
1 4 r .
1 4 v .
1 5 r.
1 5 v .
•16r.
II 6 v .
jl7 r.
jl7 v .
<18r.
Il8v.
Il9 r.
1 9 v .
■ 2 O r .
■ 2 0 v .
2 1 r.
21 v .
2 2 r.
22v.
2 3 r .
23 v .
2 4 r.
24 v .
2 5 r.
25v.
2 6 r.
26v.
2 7 r.
27v.
2 8 r.
28v.
2 9 r.
29v.
Line
N o.
261
281
295
309
325
333
348
362
377
391
405
421
425
441
455
474
488
502
518
530
544
559
575
591
605
629
F irst Word
o f L eaf
fo llo w in g "e lb o w " on 1 4 r .,
lin e 262 th is te x t.
n o s tril
b la n k
in a w fu l
and
to n es
th e d ra m a tis t
P erh ap s
b la n k
He
p re e m in e n t
So
th e
stu d e n t
The sw ift
T he em o tio n
b la n k
th e
fifty m in u tes
th e re
And
su b jec tiv e
b la n k
th e vague
b la n k
im p u ted
How
and
This
th is
King
V oices
b la n k
HG's Inscribed
P ag e N um bers j
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
222]
L i n e - E n d H y p h e n s
T he follow ing is a list o f G arlan d 's lin e -e n d hyphenations in th e source!
^document, none o f w hich have been re p re se n te d in th is te x t. The diagonal line|
in d ic a te s w here G arland divided th e w ord. In h y p henating a w ord G arlan d would
|often add a second hyphen on th e co n tin u ed lin e. T hese have b een tra n sc rib e d
h e re . 1
| i
11 p re e m -/in e n t ;
*43 p e r-/p e tu a te
47 p ro p o r-/-tio n a le
113 in te r-/-d e p e n d e n c ie s
114 c onspi c -/-u o u s
144 re d ic -/-u lo u s
150 h a lf-/tin ts
170 S h a k -/-esp e are a n
314 s p e e c h -/-a rtis t
336 d e m i-/-tin ts
383 a n /o th e r
]412 m is-/ap p reh en sio n
,544 c o n -/s tric tio n s
223
R e f e r e n c e N o t e s
32 H enry Irving (1838-1905), B ritish a c to r-m a n a g e r, who m ade six v isits
to A m erica b e tw ee n 1883 and 1903, a c tin g in such ro les as ShylockJ
H am let, M acbeth, and R ich elieu . Irving gave sev eral le c tu re s on a ctin g
( a t H arv ard during 1884. i
i50 H enry E. D ixey (1859-1943), A m erican a c to r, had his g re a te s t success
I in th e m usical Adonis (1884) w hich in clu d ed a c e le b ra te d spoof o f Henry(
j Irving. I
I !
55-56 G arland assigned a ll o f th e se fig u res to th e old er "v ital" school o f a ctin g
th a t em p h asized d e c la m a to ry pow er: F ran co is-Jo sep h T alm a (1763-1826),
renow ned F ren ch a c to r, who w ro te a book on a c tin g , Q uelques reflex io n s
sur L ekain e t sur F a rt th e a tric a l (1825), w hich H enry Irving had tra n s la te d
in to English in 1883; S heridan K now les (1784-1862), Irish a c to r-p la y w rig h t,
fam ous fo r such v eh icles fo r A m erican a c to rs as W illiam T ell (1825)
and The H unchback (1832); G eorge F re d e ric k C ooke (1756-1812), B ritish
a c to r, w hose su ccess in A m erica in 1810 in th e role o f R ic h ard III was
seen as having in a u g u ra ted th e " sta r sy stem " in A m erica; Jo sep h F ro b ish er
w as a p ro m in en t e lo cu tio n ist who opened th e C ollege o f A ctin g and O ra to ry
in New Y ork w here he published th e te x tb o o k A ctin g and O ra to ry (1879). '
65-69 G arland is c itin g Irving's p re fa c e to th e English tra n s la tio n o f T alm a’s
a c tin g book. E n title d "An Id eal A cto r," it ap p ea re d in th e B oston Evening
| T ra n sc rip t on Ju ly 10, 1885.
91-92 H erm ann von H elm h o ltz (1821-1894), G erm an sc ie n tis t and philosopher,
w hose book On th e S ensations o f T one (1863) w as a g re a t ad v an ce in
th e field o f physiological a c o u stic s; C h arles D arw in (1809-1882), th e
fam ous English s c ie n tis t w hose ev o lu tio n ary th e o rie s w ere c a rrie d fo rw ard
in his book w hich G arland re lie d on m ost heavily h e re , The E xpression
of E m otion in Man and A nim als (1873); P aolo M an teg azza (1831-1910),;
Ita lia n d o c to r and an th ro p o lo g ist, c o n d u cte d im p o rta n t re s e a rc h in thej
physiology o f re p ro d u c tio n and published p ro lifically , including a book
on D arw in in 1868; H e rb ert S pencer, (1820-1903), B ritish philosopher,
and psych o lo g ist, who e x ten d ed D arw in's th e o rie s into so cia l, political,!
and econom ic c o n te x ts, and w hose The P rin cip les o f P sychology (1855)
a n tic ip a te s Jung's th e o ry o f ra c ia l m em ory and a rc h e ty p e s; Jo h n Fiske;
(1842-1901), A m erican philosopher and p ro fesso r o f h isto ry , w as a follow er,
of S p en cer and helped to p o p u larize o p tim istic so cial ev o lu tio n in such|
w orks a The D estin y o f Man V iew ed in th e L ight of his O rigin (1884);
M oses T rue Brown (1827-?), A m erican e d u c a to r and G arlan d 's f ir s t m en to r,
held th e C h air o f O ra to ry a t T u fts U n iv ersity from 1866-1890, and founded
th e B oston School o f O rato ry in 1884 o f w hich G arland w as a fa c u lty
m em b er. Brown published The S y n th e tic Philosophy of E xpression (1885)!
w hich G arlan d p ro o frea d .
i
123 Tom m aso Salvini (1829-1916), Ita lia n a c to r , m ade five A m erican visits|
b e tw ee n 1873 and 1889, sp ecializin g in S h ak esp earean tra g e d y . His
p e rfo rm a n c e as O th ello w as so n o to rio u s fo r its vio len ce th a t m any1
A m erican a c tre s s e s re fu sed to be his D esdem ona. Salvini c o -s ta rre d '
224
se v e ra l tim e s w ith Edwin B ooth, playing O th ello to B ooth's Iago. On
th e day G arland gave th is le c tu re , Salvini w as playing L ear a t th e B oston
M useum . j
145 G o tth o ld E phraim L essing (1729-81), G erm an d ra m a tis t and c ritic , who
has been c alled "th e firs t m odern a e s th e tic ia n " fo r his tr e a tis e , L aocoon
(1766), w hich arg u es fo r a R o m an tic c o n ce p tio n o f form as th a t w hich
springs from a d ra m a tis t's vision of life . L essing's re je c tio n o f classicism 1
help ed give rise to th e G erm an E n lig h ten m en t in w hich G oethe'
p a rtic ip a te d . i
202 W illiam R ussell (1798-1873), S c o ttish e lo c u tio n ist, who e m ig ra te d to 1
M assach u setts w here he b ecam e a lo cally known e d u ca to r and a u th o r
o f such w orks as P u lp it E locution and L essons in E n u n ciatio n . j
223 Edm und C la re n c e S ted m an (1833-1908), A m erican p o et and c ritic , w hose
g re a te s t c o n trib u tio n w as th e ed itin g o f a se rie s o f an thologies o f A m erican
lite ra tu re . S ted m an 's la u d ato ry review o f Edwin B ooth's a c tin g a p p ea re d
in th e A tla n tic M onthly in May 1866, w h ere S ted m an coined Booth asj
"N atu re's sw e e t in te rp re te r."
j
235 G arland would have been c itin g lin es from M acbeth and H a m le t. N e ar
, th e end o f th e le c tu re a t lin e 528, G arlan d say s, "In th e passag es I have
I n o ted from M acbeth and H am let . . . ."
i
|269 P robably th e m inor A m erican p o et G eo rg e S hepard B urleigh (1821-1903),;
i who w ro te a num b er o f p an egyrics to th e g re a t ex p lo rer o f th e R ocky
M ountains, C olonel Jo h n C . F rem o n t. A ro m a n tic poem by B urleigh,
• "B eauty a C re a tiv e S p irit," ap p ea re d in th e B oston Evening T ra n s c rip t1
on O c to b er 24, 1885.
274 R ich elieu is th e title c h a ra c te r o f R ic h e lie u , o r th e C on sp iracy (1838),
j th e play by B ritish d ra m a tis t and n o v elist E dw ard B ulw er-L y tto n (1803-73).
1280 P e sc a ra is th e v illain in The A p o state (1817), th e p lay by B ritish d ram atist!
R ich ard L alor S heil (1791-18 5 l t ;
393 Ja m e s R ush (1786-1869), A m erican phy sician and psychologist, and son;
j o f th e fam ous P h ilad elp h ia d o c to r B enjam in R ush. Jam e s R ush's book,
The Philosophy of th e H um an V oice (1827), w as q u ite popular throughout;
th e n in e te e n th c e n tu ry as an early m ed ical ap p ro ach to th e su b je c t ofi
e lo cu tio n . R ush also w ro te H a m le t, a D ra m a tic P relu d e (1834).
402 L aw ren ce B a r re tt (1838-91), A m erican a c to r and th e a te r m an ag er, who
w as closely a sso c ia te d w ith Edwin B ooth. B a r re tt played w ith B ooth
in H am let in 1862 and m ain tain ed th e rela tio n sh ip th rough 1887 w hen
th e tw o co n d u cted a S h ak esp earean to u r. In his own rig h t, B a rre tt was]
an acco m p lish ed a c to r , judged by som e a su p erio r tra g e d ian to B ooth.
B a rre tt su cceed ed in rev iv in g A m erican p lay w rig h t G eorge H enry B oker’s
F ra n c e sc a da R im ini in 1883, and e a r lie r in 1877-78 had su ccesses in
tw o plays by W illiam D ean H ow ells, A C o u n te rfe it P re se n tm e n t (1877)
_______arid Y orick's Love (1878).
583
589
i
i
225
C h arles B arron (1840-1918), A m erican a c to r, who m ade his d e b u t in 1861
in R ic h elie u . B arron o fte n played in Edwin B ooth's p ro d u ctio n s.
i
H ere "K lang" is d eriv ed from th e G erm an w ord "K lan g farb e" w hich m ay
be tra n s la te d in to English as "tim b re ." !
i
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1
■ ' " ' 226]
CHAPTER SEVEN 1
"ON THE PLAYS CURRENT":
THE RISE OF REALISM IN THE AMERICAN DRAMA
M any of G arland's le c tu re s d eserv e c lo ser stu d y . D uring his long life;
i
(
G arland sp en t fa r m ore tim e on th e le c tu re c irc u it th a n he e v e r did a t his deskj
i
w riting fic tio n . T h a t he did so su g g ests th e le c tu re w as a d o m in an t literary !
I
form in A m erica in th e la te n in e te e n th c en tu ry , a c u ltu ra l form w e a re only
beginning to m ake visible.
j D uring th e p eriod 1885-91 G arland w as a p ro lific w rite r and d e liv e rer
o f le c tu re s , m any of w hich, like th e B ooth le c tu re , he hoped to publish. One!
ienormous u n d ertak in g w as a series o f th irte e n le c tu re s G arland g ran d ly title d , i
!
'T he E volution o f A m erican Thought" (#465a-j). T o tallin g 350 le av e s in
m an u scrip t, th is w as an a tte m p t a t an A m erican lite ra ry h isto ry from "The
C olonial P hase" to th e p o e ts o f "The New E ldorado" like B ret H a rte and Joaq u in
!
M iller. Such in d u stry soon a ttr a c te d th e a tte n tio n o f th e e d ito r of th e B oston
E vening T ra n sc rip t, E dw ard C le m en t, who in tro d u ced G arlan d to W illiam D ean
i
H ow ells. S om etim e in th e la tte r p a rt of 1887 G arland had his firs t m eetin g
w ith H ow ells a t The Elm s H o tel in B oston. This m om ent m ark ed th e beginning
i
I ,
o f w hat J a y M artin has c alled G arland's " re a listic in te rlu d e ."
P a rtly as a re su lt o f H ow ells's generous a ssistan c e w hich led to p u b licatio n ,
o f G arland's early d e sc rip tiv e sk etc h e s o f p ra irie life , and p a rtly as a resu lt]
| i
o f th e B ooth le c tu re , "P ro fesso r G arland" found h im self in dem and as a
I I
c o m m e n ta to r on A m erican re a lism . G arland co n tin u ed his in te re s t in th e th e a te r
I
and jo in ed th e n o u v eau -rich e who w ere flocking to th e B oston M useum to see
the M ulligan plays o f E dw ard H arrig an and th e fa rc e s o f C h arles H oyt. G arland
was now in a good position to o ffe r guidance to th e se p lay g o ers on w h at to think
227|
of th e A m erican d ram a v is-a-v is th e e m erg in g realism in o th e r fo rm s such asj
th e novel. j
I
This p o sitio n w as co n sid erab ly en h an ced once G arland m et Jam e s A.'
H ern e in e arly 1889. We have seen how G arland follow ed th is m e etin g w ith'
a n e a r fra n tic program o f p layw righting and d ram a activ ism . One o f its p ro d u cts
was an 1889 m an u scrip t o f a le c tu re , "On th e Plays C u rre n t," w hich stan d s as;
one o f our m ost u sefu l surveys o f th e la te n in e te e n th cen tu ry A m erican d ram a,
a ffo rd in g us a ric h e r insight to a form o f w hich we s till know c o m p arativ ely
little .
I T e x t u a l H i s t o r y
The so u rce d o cu m en t on w hich th is p re se n t c lea r te x t e d itio n is based
I
is th e au to g rap h m an u scrip t o f 27 le av e s in th e H am lin G arland P ap ers (#483).
[There a re tw o co v er sh e e ts folded around th is m an u scrip t w hich G arlan d has
I
used to id en tify it as an "A rtic le ," and has d a te d it as 1894. T h ere is little reaso n
i
to a c c e p t e ith e r G arland's id e n tific a tio n or d a tin g .
As to d atin g , th e re is little doubt th a t G arland's p o st-d a tin g o f 1894
i
I
is in c o rre c t, alth o u g h it is u n d erstan d ab le how la te in life w hen he w as o rg anizing
his p ap ers he m ight a sso c ia te th is te x t w ith his essay on th e d ram a th a t ap p eared
in C rum bling Idols (1894). G arland's firs t b io g rap h er, Je a n H ollow ay, has p o in ted
Jout how "G arland's m em ory as to d a te s has p roved in a c c u ra te in so m any in stan ces
th a t it has seem ed w iser h e re to rely ch iefly on th e ev id en ce o f his c o n tem p o rary
notebooks and co rresp o n d en ce . . ." (33). In his notebook #17 d a te d M arch
3, 1886, new sp ap er clippings from m ost o f th e plays G arland m entions in his^
'le c tu re can be found. M oreover, none o f th e plays G arland discusses in his le c tu re
could have been co n sid ered c u rre n t in 1894. The la te s t play G arlan d c ite s is
H erne's D riftin g A p art, w hich he saw in J a n u a ry 1889. B ut G arland m akes no
228
mention whatsoever o f Herne's epoch-marking Margaret Fleming, first performed
July 4, 1890. As Garland was intensely involved with the production of this
play, it is unlikely he would have failed to include it in his lecture unless thJ
play had not yet been produced. Indeed, the value of presenting this lecture
h e re re s ts in its being a snapshot o f th e A m erican d ram a ju st b e fo re M arg aret
I i
1
F lem ing a lte re d th e lan d scap e.
F u rth e r ev id en ce from w hich to m ake a m ore a c c u ra te d a tin g o f th is1
le c tu re com es from G arland's discussion o f Ibsen in th is m an u scrip t. He in d ic a te s
i
ithat he has re a d Ibsen but n o t y e t seen any o f his plays. We do know th a t G arland
I
re a d th e E rn est R hys ed itio n o f Ibsen published in 1888, and th a t G arlan d saw!
I
his firs t p e rfo rm an c e o f Ibsen in B oston on O c to b e r 30, 1889, w hen he saw The
D oll's H ouse. Thus th e com position o f th is le c tu re m an u scrip t m ust have o c cu rred
I
so m etim e b etw een Ja n u a ry 1889, w hen he saw H ern e's D riftin g A p a rt, and
O c to b er 30, 1889, w hen he saw The Doll's H ouse.
As to G arland's lab elin g o f th is m an u scrip t a s an "A rticle," one can only-
say th e e x te rn a l and in te rn a l ev id en ce w arns ag ain st a c c e p tin g w hat w as p ro b ab ly
I
an in a d v e rte n t e rro r. In G arland's m eticu lo u sly k e p t reco rd s o f m anuscript!
subm issions to p erio d icals, no such a rtic le can be found. While it is possible]
G arland co m p leted th is w ork and d ecid ed a g a in st su b m ittin g it, th e rh eto rical!
c h a ra c te ris tic s o f th is te x t m ake it fa r m ore lik ely i t w as m ean t to be a le ctu re.:
Such fe a tu re s as "I re p e a t," "To illu s tra te ," an d "B ut I h e ar som eone saying,"
n o rm ally signal an o ral p re se n ta tio n . F u rth e rm o re , in speaking o f B ronson
H ow ard's su ccessfu l The H e n rie tta (1887), G arlan d only in tro d u ces th e su b je c t
b u t does n o t develop his discussion on p ap er as one would fo r a p rin ted a rtic le .
S ince th e re seem to be no le av e s m issing a t th is p o in t in th e d o cu m en t, one
229
m ay assum e th a t as an e x p erien c e d le c tu re r G arlan d n eed ed only to n o te to
'him self a play such as H ow ard's he knew q u ite w ell.
We do not know fo r c e rta in w hen or even if th is le c tu re w as publicly
d eliv ered , b u t as G arland had a read y -m ad e a u d ien ce in th e classes he ta u g h t
a t th e B oston School o f O ra to ry u n til 1891, it is lik ely he gave it th e re all or
!
in p a rt. The im p o rta n t point is th a t th is le c tu re m an u scrip t is in d ic a tiv e of:
! I
i
jG arland's p a rtic ip a tio n in a c ritic a l discussion o f th e A m erican d ra m a th a t was
ju s t beginning. In it G arlan d ex ten d s som e o f H ow ells's ad u m b ratio n s th a t
I
I
ap p ea re d in six s e p a ra te m onths in H arp er's M onthly in th e "E d ito r's Study"
during 1889-91. The w ork o f both m en firs t b ro u g h t w ide a tte n tio n to th e idea
I
th a t th e re m ight be so m eth in g one could call an A m erican d ram a.
i
i I n t r o d u c t i o n
j
| This le c tu re re p re se n ts a serious a tte m p t by one who w as deep ly involved
in th e realism m ov em en t to re c o n cile notions o f th e popular versu s th e lite ra ry .
T h at is, G arland seek s to subsum e th e d ram a, long dism issed as pure
I
e n te rta in m e n t, under th e b an n er o f p rogress, and th u s o f re a lism . The le c tu re
also fu rth e r re v e als th e th e o ry of sc ie n tific ev olution th a t w as th e underpinning:
o f G arland's approach to lite ra ry h isto ry , and it broadens our understanding!
i ;
of G arlan d 's own b ran d o f re a lism and his co n trib u tio n to th e lo c al co lo r school. j
i
W hat d istinguished H am lin G arland's d ra m a tic c ritic ism from th a t o f ■
i
lis co n tem p o raries w as his au d ien ce. N in e tee n th c e n tu ry d ram a c ritic s usually
fe ll in to one o f tw o c a te g o rie s: play re v ie w ers, lik e C lem ens and D re iser early ;
in th e ir c a re e rs, who w ere sa la rie d new sp ap er em p loyees passing ju d g m en t onj
!
perfo rm an ces so th a t th e a te r-g o e rs could decid e how to spend th e ir m oney;'
or acad em ics like G eorge P ie rc e B aker o f H arv ard and B rander M atth ew s of]
C olum bia who o ffe re d c o m p a ra tiv e an alyses and h isto rie s fo r th e c o n sid eratio n ;
o f serio u s d ram a stu d e n ts. When th e tw e n ty -fo u r y ear-o ld G arlan d cam e to
B oston in 1884, he had n e ith e r th e e x p erien c e to sec u re a n ew sp ap er post nor
th e ed u catio n to be a d m itte d to th e acad em y . So a f te r a y e a r o f in te n se read in g
and avid th e a te rg o in g , G arland took a job as a le c tu re r in A m erican lite r a tu r e
during th e su m m er sessio n o f th e B oston School o f O ra to ry . T h ere G arland's1
au d ien ce w as co m p rised la rg e ly o f v a catio n in g w om en sc h o o ltea ch e rs from
n earb y tow ns. Soon G arlan d w as being in v ite d in to th e p arlo rs o f th e school's
p a tro n s to d eliv er evening le c tu re s to th o se who so u g h t c u ltu ra l e d ific a tio n .
Thus G arland's au d ien ce w as th e e m erg in g bourgeoisie who sought guidance
on w h at to th in k ab o u t th e ir n a tiv e d ram a. O ne n o tes how in th is p a rtic u la r
le c tu r e G arland re fe rs to th e "m illions o f people [who] su p p o rt H oyt's fa rc e s
and pour th e ir m oney lik e w a te r in to his m an ag ers hands" (150-51).;
i
R e p re se n ta tiv e s o f th e se m illions cam e to G arlan d 's le c tu re s and th e re b y issued
G arland a m an d ate to re c o n cile ro m a n tic pop u lar e n te rta in m e n ts on th e sta g e
w ith re a lis tic lite ra ry a ch ie v e m en ts in th e novel. This w as no easy m an d ate
|to fu lfill, b u t G arland does su cc e ed in th is le c tu re , a t le a s t in p a rt, by p ro ceed in g
i
w ith a tw o -p a rt p ro g ram . i
I
F irst, he founds his th e o ry o f lite ra ry realism upon th e p rin cip le of;
p e rsp e c tiv e . This co n n o tes a d ram a th a t o ffe rs a b ro ad er view o f A m erican
life , and in ev itab ly , as in w hat he calls th e B order D ram a, th is view c o n tra sts
w ith th e d ram a o f c ity life . This expansive p rin cip le o f p e rsp e c tiv e p e rm its
G arland to value ev en th e fa rc e s o f H oyt sin ce " th e re a re b its o f life sc a tte re d ;
h ere and th e re giving color to th e h o rse-play" (182-83).
Second, having a ssim ila te d A m erican d ra m a to th e realism m o v em en t
w ith th e p rin cip al o f p e rsp e c tiv e , G arland d raw s upon th e D arw inian th e o ry
o f s c ie n tific ev o lu tio n in o rd e r to stu d y th e g e n re o f d ram a as if it w ere a
231
biological sp ecies. Indeed th e very form o f th is le c tu re , w ith its fo rm al
c a te g o riz a tio n o f th e d ra m a in to th re e d istin c t classes, is th a t o f a scientific^
stu d y . N ote G arlan d ’s lan g u ag e: j
In sc ie n tific te rm s , th e A m erican public had n o t developed to ’
th e p o in t o f em o tio n ally ap prehending . . . its im m e d ia te
surroundings. (38-40) i
To illu s tra te my p o in t le t us ta k e an a v e ra g e ex am p le o f th e species,
o f play. (50-51) I
[F orgiven] is th e h ig h e st d ev elo p m en t th u s fa r o f th e B order
D ram a. (85-86) |
It m ust n e v er be fo rg o tte n even fo r a m o m en t th a t th e se plays
a re signs o f th e com ing A m erican d ram a. (138-39) !
i
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G arland is o p e ra tin g w ithin th e m a in stre am o f ev o lu tio n ary criticism |
p ra c tic e d by H ow ells, T hom as S e rg e a n t P erry , and o th e rs. This is a crucial'
p o in t, fo r it su g g ests why H ow ells, Ja m e s, C ran e, and even D reiser and London
I
co n tin u ed to w rite plays d e sp ite re p e a te d d isap p o in tm en ts w ith th e A m erican
s ta g e . G iven ev o lu tio n ary th e o ry as a c o n te x t, th e se w rite rs could ra tio n a liz e
jtheir p e rsiste n t p lay w rig h tin g on th e grounds th e y w ere p a rtic ip a tin g in th e
I
;n atu ral ev o lu tio n o f a g en re th a t w as in a lo w er s ta g e o f d ev elo p m en t. This
i
fre e d th em to re m a in c o m m itte d to th e m ore highly d eveloped sp ecies o f the|
i
i
novel, a ll th e w hile doing w hat th e y could to ad v an ce th e d ram a. j
I
G arlan d ’s le c tu re also re v e als m any o f his own p erso n al co n cern s and
a ttitu d e s w hich a ffe c te d his a rt. His n o m e n c la tu re , "B order D ram a," is the!
e a rlie s t use on re c o rd fo r a te rm to w hich G arland would re tu rn fo r his M iddle
B order au to b io g rap h ies, 1917-1928. P sy ch ologically, G arland m ay be said toj
have m ain tain ed a "b o rd er consciousness" all his life in th a t he lived along lines
o f d e m a rc a tio n se p a ra tin g co u n try and c ity , sex u a lity and rep ressio n , and
u ltim a te ly , su ccess and fa ilu re . F or G arland th e ’’b o rd er" w as an e la s tic te rm
th a t sh ifte d to id e n tify new g eo g rap h ies w hen m o re and m ore o f th e old ones
232
fe ll to u rb an ized , in d u stria liz ed h o m o g en izatio n . G arland sp en t th e y ears
1890-1910 in p e rp e tu a l m otion, trav e llin g fro m M exico to th e Yukon in se a rc h
of th e "p ersp e c tiv e , c o n tra st" w hich could re a ssu re him th e re would alw ays
oe id e n tifia b le b o rd ers b etw een se ts o f hum an v alu es.
G arland's "bo rd er consciousness" is fu rth e r re fle c te d in th e inherent!
I
c o n tra d ic tio n one sees in his life-lo n g p re o c cu p a tio n w ith fin a n c ial su ccess.
i !
On th e one hand, G arland in his le c tu re c a s tig a te s th e cu p id ity of th e a te r!
m an ag ers and "th e v a st arm y o f m en who 'knock plays to g e th e r’ to win dollars" j
(199-200). On th e o th e r, G arland uses m oney as th e m easu re fo r judging the
su ccess o f "M r. H ow ells [who] is n o t in d an g er o f starv in g on tw e n ty thousand!
a y ear" (261). The im p licatio n w as th a t H ow ells's m oney was "clean " sin ce
it d eriv ed from genuine lite ra ry ach ie v e m en t. B ut G arland h im self n e v e r found
a w ay to reso lv e th e p erso n al a rtis tic c o n flic t b e tw ee n th e q u est fo r lite ra ry ^
e x ce lle n ce and th e p u rsu it o f popular su ccess. This le c tu re its e lf sp eak s d ire c tly
to th is c e n tra l c o n flic t th a t has alw ays a ffe c te d th e dev elo p m en t o f th e A m erican!
I i
th e a te r. |
j D esp ite his c o n cern fo r fin an cial su ccess, G arland w ould re m a in firm
in a b asic te n e t o f H ow ellsian realism : th e em phasis on c h a ra c te r o v er p lo t.
G arland begins his discussion of c h a ra c te r plays by a sse rtin g , "This s o rt o f play
j
has one distinguishing m e rit, it m akes th e p lo t absurdly superfluous" (95-96).
It w as a c ritic a l com m onplace a t th e tim e to ta g re a lis tic w orks n o t as sto rie s
b u t as "stu d ies." So in th e s p irit o f Zola's e x p e rim e n ta l m ethod, G arlan d a d o p ted
jthe in d u ctiv e ap p ro ach o f a sc ie n tific in v e stig a tio n in n oting "th e te n d en c y
in th e se b e tte r co m ed ies to stu d y re a l people in re a l situ a tio n s" (136-37). As
a c ritic , G arland w as able to em ploy th is m eth o d and m ake a c o n trib u tio n to
th e rise o f realism in th e A m erican d ram a by assailin g p layw rights fo r th e ir
233
im possible villains and in cred ib le p lo t tu rn s. B ut th e perso n al tro u b le fo r G arland
th e a r tis t, as th e to n e of his le c tu re m ay d e m o n stra te , w as th a t his c a p a c ity
fo r irony w as n o t as fully developed as th a t o f his m e n to r H ow ells, w hose re a lis tic
novels o fte n included and ev en fo reg ro u n d ed th e v ery plot co in cid en ces G arland
i
disliked. The re su lt, e sp e c ially in G arland's own plays, is m uch ta lk and little
i
a c tio n . !
!
A lthough th is ap p ro ach w as not a re c ip e fo r b o x -o ffice su ccess, G arland
t
should be c re d ite d in his le c tu re fo r bro ach in g a new d ra m a tu rg ic th e o ry n e a rly
eig h t y ears b e fo re it gained w ide a c c e p ta n c e th ro u g h B elgian p lay w rig h t M aurice]
S
M aeterlin k 's essay, "The T rag ic in D aily L ife" (1896). M aeterlin k in sisted that!
I
th e re w as g re a t d ram a in seein g an old m an s e a te d in his a rm c h a ir w aitin g
p a tie n tly , b ecau se "m o tio n less as he is, [he] does y e t liv e in re a lity a deeper,!
m ore hum an, and m ore u n iv ersal life th an th e lo v er who stra n g le s his m istress
. . ." (31). This is p re c ise ly w hat G arland se e s in D enm an Thom pson's Josh u a
W hitcom b w hen "Jo sh u a w inds th e clock in th e old h o m estead k itc h e n w hile
i
h is s is te r k n its p lacid ly in an old arm ch air" (132-34). G arland says people enjoy
S eeing such fa m ilia r re p re se n ta tio n s b ecau se th e re is "a grow ing love fo r re a l
th in g s, a grow ing a p p re c ia tio n o f th e ir sig n ific a n ce , th e ir m y stery and w orth"
(179-81).
B ut G arland's p e rsp ic a c ity in a n tic ip a tin g M aeterlin k 's d ra m a tu rg y w as
not th e only in sta n c e o f lead ersh ip in his le c tu re . His analysis o f Ibsen's w ork
h e re p re -d a te s G eorge B ernard Shaw 's in flu e n tia l The Q u in tessen ce o f Ibsenism
(1891) by a t le a s t a y e ar; H ow ells's essay on Ibsen did n ot a p p ea r u n til 1895.
We have seen how G arland d ire c tly tra n s m itte d Ibsen to Jam e s A. H erne, who
e n listed G arland's aid in producing M arg aret F lem in g in 1890, a play d ram a
h isto ria n W alter M eserve says " in itia te d th e p erio d o f m odern d ram a in A m erica"
234|
(191). O f co u rse, M eserve acknow ledges his d eb t to th e s till sta n d a rd d ram a
h isto ry o f A rth u r Hobson Q uinn, who in tu rn re lie d heavily on H am lin G arland
n o t only fo r re c o n stru c tio n o f th e lo st te x t o f M arg aret F lem ing b u t fo r the'
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e sse n tia l sto ry o f A m erican d ram a in th e la te n in e te e n th c en tu ry . Indeed, m uch
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jof G arland's lan g u ag e from th is le c tu re found its w ay in to Q uinn's H isto ry (1927).:
In a 1926 le tte r to G arlan d , Quinn asks him to w rite a biography of H erne for'
the D ictio n ary o f A m erican B iography, saying, "I have su g g ested to [th e ed ito r]
jthat you a re th e one m an to do th e a rtic le on Jam e s A. H erne" (#3187). It
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is th e re fo re no o v e rs ta te m e n t to say th a t m uch o f our own view of la te n in e te e n th
c en tu ry A m erican d ram a has been shaped by H am lin G arland.
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j If G arland has n o t re c e iv e d th e fu ll c re d it he d eserv es fo r his activ ities!
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in th e d ram a, it m ay be due to th e m arg in alizatio n by h isto rian s o f c e rta in form s
o f d iscourse like th e le c tu re . H isto rio g rap h y has alw ays p riv ileg ed th e published
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jtext as ev id en ce, in p a rt b ecau se it so o fte n is ail th e ev id en ce th e re is, and
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in p a rt b ecau se c o n tem p o rary acad em ic v alues m ay le a d to an assum ption of
h ig h er q u ality for published te x ts . The case o f H am lin G arland and th e volum inous
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p ap ers he le f t us, un d erlin es th e im p o rtan ce to h isto ria n s o f unpublished le c tu re
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n o te s and o th e r e p h em e ra l fo rm s o f d isco u rse. When a v ailab le , th e se m ust
be included fo r stu d y if one w ishes fo r a m ore re a lis tic h isto rio g rap h y w hose j
,"only c rite rio n is life ," to use th e w ords o f H am lin G arland.
A N o t e o n t h e T e x t
B ecause th e re a re no e d ito ria lly supplied v a ria n t read in g s and b ecau se
i t is in freq u e n tly rev ised by G arland, th e p re se n t ed itio n o f th e so u rce do cu m en t
has been designed as a c le a r read in g te x t fo r th e m odern re a d e r. j
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___________ j
235
E d ito rial in te rv e n tio n has b een k ep t to a m inim um and in a ll cases w here
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it has been d eem ed n e ce ssa ry , an em en d atio n has been re c o rd ed in th e ap p aratu s'
follow ing th e te x t. |
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One ex cep tio n has b een th e sile n t c o rre c tio n of G arland's handling o f
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'play title s . As a m a tte r o f convention all play title s a re und erlin ed ; G arland
n o rm ally used q u o ta tio n m arks and did not s e p a ra te a series o f plays w ith com m as.'
A lso, G arland o fte n in c o rre c tly used q u o ta tio n s around c h a ra c te r n am es, and
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th e se have been rem o v ed . F u rth e r, w hat G arland has in scrib ed as a single dash’
is re p re se n te d h ere by double hyphens.
One o th e r sp e c ia l c irc u m sta n c e is th a t th e firs t tw o leav es o f th e so u rce
(docum ent a re m issing, so th e p re se n t te x t begins w ith w hat we h av e. In a t e x t
'of n e arly 3,500 w ords, th is re p re se n ts th e loss o f ab o u t 250 w ords o f introductory!
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m a te ria l. Its ab sen ce does n ot im p air th e se lf-c o n ta in e d in fo rm atio n im p a rte d
in th e b alan ce o f th e do cu m en t.
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I R e fe re n c e n o tes a re provided follow ing th e te x t th a t give b rie f background
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in fo rm atio n on e ac h o f th e m any nam es and plays G arland c ite s in th is le c tu re .
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A ll would have been fa m ilia r to G arland's au d ien ce, but som e a re less so now
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even to stu d e n ts o f A m erican d ram a.
B i b l i o g r a p h i c a l D e s c r i p t i o n
C ita tio n : PAGES FROM AN ARTICLE ON THE PLAYS C U RR EN T: a. m s.; ink;
ite m #483 o f H am lin G arland P ap ers, D oheny L ib rary , U n iv ersity o f S ou th ern
C alifo rn ia .
T itle : N one. T h ere a re tw o sh e e ts, each 8 1" x 11", folded folio around m an u scrip t
as co v er sh e e ts . In G arland's hand on firs t co v er sh e e t, re c to : P ages from an
a rtic le 0 on th e plays c u rre n t 8 in 1894, by I H am lin G arland; on second cover,
s h e e t, re c to : C losing pages of an B a rtic le on "C u rre n t— B Plays" by 8 Hamlin!
G arland D W ritten in 1894—; on second co v er s h e e t, verso: A rtic le on c u rre n t
plays, by 8 H am lin G arlan d a b o u t 1894.
C o llatio n : 27 le av e s, unbound; le a f 6" x 9 i" ; 24 lin e b lu e-ru led w h ite; w a te rm a rk e d
"H u rlb u rt P a p e r Co"; n u m bered a t to p c e n te r: 3-18 [19] 20-29; no verso
in scrip tio n .__________________
236]
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.C o n ten ts: L e c tu re m an u scrip t, in co m p lete, f ir s t tw o le av e s m issing; pp. 3-29:;
te x t; in freq u e n tly rev ised in ink; good condition.
'D ates: C om position c. Ja n u a ry -O c to b e r 1889; unpublished.
ON THE PLAYS CURRENT
The atm o sp h ere is g e ttin g m a g n etic and th e younger w rite rs a re 1
feelin g a new in sp iratio n . They begin to fe e l th e stim u lu s o f th e newj
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sp irit. j
L eaving g e n e ra l co n sid eratio n s fo r th e tim e le t m e run o v er som e1
o f th e plays and give som e ideas w hich w ere su g g ested to m e by th e
m ore re p re se n ta tiv e . R oughly, all th e A m erican plays I have seen m ay
be classed under th re e heads.
F irst and fo re m o st, B order D ra m a s: plays o sten sib ly d ep ictin g
scen es and c h a ra c te rs on th e fro n tie r, in th e m ining cam ps, e tc . This
class o f plays is n o t only th e la rg e st and m ost su ccessfu l b u t one o f th e
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m ost sig n ific a n t. It m ay be called th e firs t ap p ro ach to th e fa ith fu l
handling o f A m erican m a te ria l, its w rite rs a re th e p ioneers in th e lite ra ry
sense. 1
T hese plays m ay be said to have a risen from th e lite r a tu r e o f
th e Eldorado, from th e su ccess o f B ret H a rte and Joaquin M iller, in th e ir
stu d ies o f a new and th rillin g life . N ot th a t th e y a re im ita tio n s a lto g e th e r,'
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b u t th e ta s te o f th e public s e ttin g th a t w ay, th e p lay -w rig h ts have gone,
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w ith th e c u rre n t. In th is class fo r ex am p le a re M 'Liss, The D an ites in i
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th e S ie rra s, F o rty -N in e , My P a rtn e r, E agle's N est, K it th e A rk an sas!
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T rav e lle r and various o th e rs. O f fa r h ig h er lite ra ry m e rit th a n th e average!
a re D avy C ro c k e tt and F o rg iv en .
The firs t co n sid eratio n w hich com es to th e stu d e n t o f A m erican,
th o u g h t is th a t th e re is th ro u g h o u t th e s e plays th e sam e g re a t e lem en t'
o f success nam ely p e rs p e c tiv e . T hey d eal w ith m a te ria l re m o te ,
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"p ictu resq u e." T hey ap p eal to th e c ity p a tro n of th e d ram a irresistibly!
238]
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b ecau se th e m a te ria l has g re a t fo rc e in its e lf, no m a tte r how crudelyi
p u t on th e sta g e . T he villains a re h a iry and rag g ed as Ita lia n brigands,
or g litte r in a ll th e gold and glory o f th e ra ttle -s n a k e . T he saloons a re
d elig h tfu lly p rim itiv e and filled w ith th e m ost phenom enal c h a r a c te r s .’
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N othing is co m m onplace, all has p e rsp e c tiv e . E ffe c ts a re b ro ad co lors
laid on heavily. ;
Now all th is is sig n ific a n t w hen we re m em b er th a t during th e
w hole o f A m erican d ra m a tic w ritin g , th e d ram a has had a lm o st noth in g
to do w ith re a l A m erica, but has been fo rm ed upon th e B ritish com edy
o r ro m a n tic d ram a. A m erican m a te ria l had no d ra m a tic v alue to th e
play. —W riters a t le a s t, and th e public even w hen it had risen to th e
p o in t o f d esirin g it, had no ch an ce to pass ju d g m en t upon w h at it re a lly
p re fe rre d . In s c ie n tific te rm s, th e A m erican public had n o t developed
to th e p o in t o f em o tio n ally ap prehending and a rtis tic a lly s ta tin g its
im m e d ia te surroundings. The n ear w as p ro saic and valu eless. A m erican
life w as to o p o w erful, lack in g c o n tra s t, th e re fo re d ra m a tis t and public
looked aw ay to th e old w orld, to th e p a st, to m o d ificatio n s o f th e
fe u d a listic d ram a fo r re lie f and re c re a tio n .
B ut n a tu ra lly th e g row th o f c itie s b rought c o n tra st, th e gro w th
o f c o m fo rt and opulence b rought, o r is bringing, a p p re c ia tio n o f re a l
A m erican p re se n t life , and la st, grow ing ed u catio n and in d ep en d en ce
u n ite to bring ab o u t a n a tiv e d ram a. Thus th e n a tiv e d ram a began som e
y ears ago w ith a stu d y o f th e p henom enal and th e sen satio n al, re c eiv in g j
its firs t g re a t im p etu s, I re p e a t, from Jo aq u in M iller and B ret H a rte . |
To illu s tra te m y p o in t, le t us ta k e an a v e ra g e exam ple o f th e sp ec ie s j
o f play: My P a rtn e r so w ell played by Louis A ldrich. H ere we havej
239
a play dealin g w ith m odern A m erica. F irs t o f a ll it seeks and o b tain ^
f
p e rsp e c tiv e . The sce n e is lo c a te d in th e S ie rras. T h ere is a ll the|
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p ic tu re sq u e a c c e sso rie s, re d sh irts, p isto ls, chinam en, v ig ilan tes, canyons!
e tc . The lead in g c h a r a c te r Jo e S aunders is a good one, genuinely human.!
M ajor B ritt (c a p ita lly a c te d ) w as ju st a little im possible. T hese c h a ra c te rs
and a ll c o n n ec te d w ith th em w ere good.
T h ere w as how ever an im possible v illain , also an im possible h ero in e,
fig u res show ing th e tra n s itio n a l s ta g e o f th e d ram a, re lic s o f th e ro m a n tic
b lo o d -an d -d ark n ess. My P a rtn e r re s te d fo r its su ccess upon th e m ost
ad m irab le m o tiv e, a frien d sh ip b e tw ee n tw o m en. One can n o t to o strongly,
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p raise such genuine, m odern and hum an w ork. The po in t to be observed
is th a t side by side w ith re a l people w e re p laced villains, hero in es and!
b u tle rs from th e tim e -h o n o red B ritish com edy, p ersonages u n re a l, having
no reaso n fo r being th e re .
On a s till h igher plain is D avy C ro c k e tt w hose c e n tra l c h a ra c te r'
is very b e au tifu l and a lto g e th e r genuine, b u t its im possible g irl, old Squire,!
and th e lik e, co n v en tio n al fig u res, spoil th e e ffe c t. One could s it all;
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night and liste n to D avy's co u rtsh ip or w a tc h his going ab o u t th e c o tta g e.j
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S till, th is play is n o t s tr ic tly m odern and does n o t co v er m y point so
fully as F orgiven as p lay ed by F re d e ric k B ryton.
F orgiven is by all odds th e b e st d ra m a o f its class on th e sta g e .
It has m ore body th an th e D an ites or F o rty -N in e , covers m ore ground;
w ith o u t fo rcin g , and has less o f th e c o n v en tio n al th a n My P a r tn e r . It
can depend upon so m eth in g m ore th a n its p e rsp e c tiv e . It has c h a ra c te r
and lite ra ry q u ality .
240
T h ere is alm o st no fuss or shouting in it. The c o n v ersatio n is
n a tu ra l and easy. The hero in e stra n g e to say has c h a ra c te r! The villain
also has c h a ra c te r and looks th e g en tlem an , as a ll su ccessfu l villains
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m ust. The scen e changes from New O rleans to th e plains o f New M exico
and c o n tra st is easily and ra tio n a lly a tta in e d . B arring th e custom ary,
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old m aid e te rn a lly w ooed by th e m id d le-ag ed w idow er, th e play has no
c h a ra c te rs w hich a re n o t hum an and p ro b ab le, su ite d to th e tim e and
p la ce . The B luff G am b ler, th e M exican, th e tra m p , e tc ., all good. No
w onder th is play is su ccessfu l, it d eserv es it. It is th e h ig h est dev elo p m en t
th u s fa r o f th e B order D ram a. B ut e sse n tially , p e rsp e c tiv e , c o n tra st
is th e m o tif o f th e B order D ram a.
Second C la ss. H ere w e m e et w ith a curious d ev elo p m en t, a m odern
th in g , I th in k I m ay say an A m erican th in g , " C h a ra c te r P a rts." Plays
w here th e re is one c h a ra c te r, all o th e rs being m erely a c c e sso rie s. In
th is division we have R ip Van W inkle, The M ighty D ollar, C olonel S e lle rs,
K it, Jo sh u a W hitcom b, Dan D arcey and o th e rs o f th e sam e n a tu re : th a t
is, w here th e in te re s t and th e su ccess o f th e play re s ts upon one
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p red o m in an t c h a ra c te r—usually an e c c e n tric one.
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This so rt o f play has one d istinguishing m e rit, it m akes th e plotj
absurdly su p erflu o u s. W herever th e a c tio n does n o t sp rin g from th e
c h a ra c te r it is o f no v alu e o r in te re s t. O bserve th is in th e com edies,
o f Edw ard H arrig an . T hese plays a re c h a ra c te r plays b u t d iffe r from
th e o th e rs nam ed by having a ra th e r la rg e r group. Old L av en d er and
Jo shua W hitcom b a re p recisely th e sam e so rt o f play and equally
m e rito rio u s—fo r th e y a re m e rito rio u s—and possess th e sam e fa u lts. They
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a re loosely c o n stru c te d , flim sy as to plan (th ey have no p lo t) and have
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no v ery high lite ra ry value a t any p oint.
Y et th e y a re prodigiously in te re stin g and sig n ific a n t in w h at th ey
in d ic a te . F irs t o f a ll o b serve th e y a re w ritte n by m en who know their!
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te rrito ry w ell. T hey a re stu d ie s ab so lu tely fa ith fu l a t m any p o ints of;
th e life and p lace th e y aim a t d ep ictin g .
When D enm an Thom pson d e p ic ts a Y ankee fa rm e r, th e m o n stro sity
o f th e sta g e is o u t o f business, ju st as M r. H arrig an 's N egro o r Irishm anj
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or T ram p m akes a ll th e co n v en tio n al fig u res o f th e m e lo d ra m a tic s ta g e
shadow s—s c a r e-cro w s.
T hese c h a ra c te r plays a re usually funny—th e A m erican public
is in satiab le in its dem and fo r hum or—b u t th e fun o f Old L av en d er and
Joshua W hitcom b is q u ite d iffe re n t fro m th a t o f B ardw ell S lo te in The
M ighty D o llar. A t th e ir b e st th e se la te r c h a ra c te r co m edies have gone
beyond th e fa rc ic a l. T h eir c h a ra c te rs begin to be funny w ith o u t know ing
it.
This is a v ery sig n ific a n t fa c t an d shows a tra n s itio n from th e
funny to th e hum orous, shows also re a l life . To illu s tra te . A drunken
m an is usually am using or p a th e tic or disgusting w ith o u t being aw are
o f it. A child is in v ariab ly am using w hen it is m ost serio u s and w hen|
it would be am using it is usually tire s o m e —to anybody but its p a re n ts, j
(This brings us to th e v ery c e n te r o f th e qu estio n , W hat is hum or? But
w e a re s ta tin g fa c ts not answ ering q u eries.) So Sm oke th e N egro in:
H arrig an 's Old L av en d er is a m ost ad m ira b le p o rtra itu re b ecau se while!
1 !
m ost am using to us he is unconscious o f it a ll. So of Dan D a rc e y . But
on th e c o n tra ry B ardw ell S lote striv e s to be funny, knows he is funny,
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150
242j
and in e f f e c t is fa rc ic a l. You refu se to b eliev e in his re a lity , he seem s
a person a c tin g a p a rt. !
A gain Jo sh u a W hitcom b is tou ch in g , b rav e, h o n est; Old L avender
is p a th e tic and genero u s w ith o u t know ing it. This is th e s e c re t also o f
th e charm of J e ffe rso n 's R ip Van W inkle. So w hen Jo shua winds th e
clock in th e old h o m estead k itch en w hile his s is te r k n its p lacid ly in an
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old arm c h air, one fe e ls a little ash am ed fo r sm iling a t th e hom ely w ays
o f tw o estim ab le p eople. So re a l and so unconscious a re th ey .
B ut th is is only a phase o f th e la rg e r m ovem ent w hich is th e
ten d en cy in th e se b e tte r com edies to stu d y re a l people in re a l situ a tio n s.
It m ust n e v er be fo rg o tte n even fo r a m o m en t th a t th e se plays a re signs
o f th e com ing A m erican d ram a. They a re fe e le rs p u t fo rth slow ly,
te n ta tiv e ly , p recu rso rs leading th e w ay fo r m ore la stin g ach ie v e m en t.
The c ritic who fo rg e ts th is, or fails to see it is not alive to one o f th e
m ost im p o rta n t o f a ll lite ra ry m ovem ents.
I do not h e s ita te to say th a t th e q u estio n , W hat is our d ram a likely
to be? is o f m ore m om ent ev en th e n th e q u estio n co n cern in g our fiction.i
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The pow er o f th e s ta g e in creases from y e a r to y e ar, its e ffe c t is already]
in calcu lab le fo r it goes in to ev ery v illage, re a c h e s a lm o st e v ery ey e.
T hese plays a re w o rth y th e c ritic 's b e st th o u g h t n o t only fo r w hat
th e y fo re te ll b u t fo r th e lig h t th e y throw upon th e public. He is no student]
who th inks th e am u sem en ts o f th e people b e n ea th his n o tic e —th e fa c t
th a t m illions o f people su p p o rt H oyt's fa rc e s and pour th e ir m oney like
w a te r in to his m an ag er's hands is a very im p o rta n t d ev elo p m en t.
B ut a f te r all th e q u estio n w hich com es to m e w hen I look upon
th e la s t and b e st class o f plays, plays d ealin g w ith so cia l p roblem s and
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so cial fa c ts , Why a re people so deeply in te re s te d in th e se th in g s? is th e
m ost im p o rta n t co n sid eratio n .
Why th is am azin g a c tiv ity in a kind of w ork unknow n in A m erica
»
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a few y ears ago? Why a re w e crow ding to th e th e a te r to see New Englanc
fa rm e rs, sh ifty N egros, b a rb a ric , childish m en, b o o t-b lack s—in sh o rt
re a l p eo p le. Why do we begin to d em an d th a t th e th in g sh all be as re a l
as possible? T h at th e b o o t-b lack sh all sp eak a genuine d ia le c t, b laek -b o o ts
sk illfully, live his life b e fo re our ey es? !
For a long tim e it w as urged an d has been urged o f la te by Mr.
S tedm an th a t th e lack o f d ram a in th e U nited S ta te s w as b ecau se of
la c k o f d ra m a tic c o n tra st. Social lin e s w ere n o t sharply draw n. The;
c o n tra st o f c ity to co u n try w as n ot su ffic ie n tly m arked nor th e c ity -life |
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d ra m a tic enough to give rise to a d ram a. |
B ut m a n ife stly th is is in som e m easu re a begging o f th e qu estio n .
It is an assu m p tio n th a t th e A m erican d ra m a m ust be like th e E lizabethan;
d ram a or th e ro m a n tic d ram a, in ste ad o f being as it m ust be a dram aj
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n ev er b e fo re seen in any land or tim e . Now th is id ea o f p ersp ectiv e,!
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c o n tra st, explains a p a rt b ut I am g e ttin g m ore and m ore to th in k but
a sm all p a rt o f our problem .
It is tru e th a t it explains why th e co u n try m an d elig h ts in seeing
th e c ity p u t re a listic a lly b efo re his ey es in th e d ram a. It ex p lain s also!
1
why c lasses a re in te re s te d in seein g th e u n fa m ilia r life of th e underw orldj
o r upper-w orld s e t fo rth . B ut it does n o t explain th e p ro fo u n d er query |
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why we enjoy seein g th e things put in to th e d ram a w hich a re p e rfe ctly !
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fa m ilia r to us and w hich we could see a t any tim e and do see in o rd in ary
w alks. The only ex p lan atio n fo r th is is th a t th e re is a grow ing love for
2441
180 re a l th in g s, a grow ing a p p re c ia tio n of th e ir sig n ific a n ce , th e ir m y ste ry
and w o rth . I
So even in such fa rc ic a l p ro d u ctio n s as H oyt's "com edies" there:
a re b its o f life s c a tte r e d h e re and th e re giving co lo r to th e h o rse-p lay .
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T h ere a re m o m en ts o f k een p leasu re e x p erien c e d a t seein g th e Railw ay;
!
185 sta tio n or th e p h o to g rap h er's c a r, s e t fo rth w ith its ty p es of)
c h a ra c te r-m o m e n ts w hen th e a c to rs c e a se to c o n to rt and begin to a c t.
But th e re is a n o th e r class o f plays w hich has m ore prom ise than.
B order D ram as, C h a ra c te r Plays or slap -b an g fa rc e s . We m ay call th ese'
com edy d ram as—o r b e tte r s till, A m erican plays. T h ere m ust com e a]
190 new w ord to d e sc rib e th e se pro d u ctio n s m uch as w e n eed a new w ord
fo r our sty le o f fic tio n w hich is n o t ro m an ce o r novel acco rd in g to th e
old m eaning o f th e se te rm s .
To th is class o f plays belong B ronson H ow ard's plays, G ille tte 's
H eld by th e E nem y, J a s . A. H erne's D riftin g A p a rt and H e a rts o f Oak,
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195 The W oman H a te r by Lloyd, and o th e rs. In th e se th e re is an a tte m p t
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a t lite ra ry e x c e lle n c e , and also tru th in re p re se n tin g so cia l life . They
f
a re by no m eans c le a r o f co n v en tialism s in sp eech and p lo t. T h ere s till'
lin g e r in m ost of th em v illains, funnym en, e tc . and th e lan g u ag e is o fte n
s tilte d and flo w ery b u t s till th e y a re to be c re d ite d w ith n o b ler aim s
200 th a n th e v a st a rm y of m en who "knock plays to g e th e r" to win d ollars. |
i
i
Mr B ronson H ow ard has w ritte n in The H e n rie tta a n o ta b le dram a.
i
on an am b itio u s th e m e . I
B ut in g e n e ra l te rm s it m ust be said th a t our b e st d ram as thus
fa r a re occu p ied w ith sto rie s or w ith odd g ro tesq u e c h a ra c te rs ; theyi
205 a re n ot w orthy to stan d beside th e new A m erican novel. T hey have not
I
2 4 5 1
I
sco p e and sig n ific a n ce enough. T hey do n ot su ffic ie n tly em body thej
age and its th o u g h t. T hey a re to o obviously seek in g im m e d ia te e ffe c tsj
and im m e d ia te m oney re tu rn s, one o f th e g re a te s t b a rrie rs to ad v an c e . !
I do not p o in t to any one d ra m a tis t as a m odel. I do n o t b eliev e
210 in m odels, th e only c rite rio n is life . Y e t H enrik Ibsen th e g re a t N orw egian
has, it seem s to m e, ta k e n fro n t ran k in d ep ictin g life in la rg e form s;
on th e sta g e . His Enem y o f S o ciety fo r exam ple is a p ic tu re o f so c ie ty
e v ery w h ere in A m erica, as w ell as th e old w orld w h ere th e d e sire for:
do llars lead s to a building up o f a hollow d e c e itfu l co n v en tio n ; lead s
215 to founding c itie s on sew ers; to crow ding m en and w om en and ch ild ren
to th e w all and to th e c o m p le te p ro s titu tio n o f th e public co n scien ce
to a reig n o f g re e d , selfish n ess and sham .
In Ibsen’s d ram as th e w inds o f th e p re se n t blow . T he m en th in k
m odern th o u g h ts, th e p lo ts a re such as rise n a tu ra lly o u t o f m odern
]220 c h a r a c te r and th en d en o u em en t follow s in lo g ical o rd e r. It is e le c tric a l
to re a d such d ram as, to h e a r th em w ould be a priv ileg e. C o n v en tio n al
h ero es and h ero in es, th e funny m an, th e heavy v illain , th e s o u b re tte ,
e tc . a re a ll lo st sig h t o f. He is d eep ly in e a rn e s t and his purpose is to
d e p ic t m odern life , m odern passion in m odern m ethods. A la ck o f either!
225 o f th e se re q u isite s would pro d u ce an ab o rtio n , to g e th e r th e y producej
i
a m a ste rp ie c e . i
I
The h ig h er class o f A m erican d ram as th e re fo re m ust n o t bej
I
stu m b lin g d isco n n e c ted c h a ra c te r stu d ie s, n e ith e r m ust th e y be sen satio n al'
m elo d ram as w ith th e ir " re a lis tic ” ta n k s and horses—and la stly th e y m ust
i
230 n o t im ita te Ibsen o r any o th e r d ra m a tis t, b u t th e y m ust be stu d ie s o f
246
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life, o f social life , and must have breadth and compactness of form,-
cumulative interest, and depth and sincerity of purpose. j
They must be sections o f American life, with a central group!
of figures whose history justifies the beginning and the end of the dramaJ
Around these there must be the coming and going of fe e t. To them must
come words of the world's thought, and in their eyes must be reflected
the distinctive thoughts and em otions of our age and land.
Hum or m ust n o t be s e t o ff as th e p a rt o f a funny m an, nor villainy
fo r th e v illain . A t som e tim e in th e ir liv es m ost m en a re hum orous and
villainous. The sam e c h a ra c te r m ay be a ll p a rts . The funny m an m ay
[
be h ero ic—th e h ero lu d icrous a t tim e s—fo r so it is in life . The one
c rite rio n fo r th is d ram a, I re p e a t, is life , life , life!
B ut I h e ar som eone saying "th is d ram a w ill not su cceed ." I ask,.
How do you know it w ill n o t su cceed ? It has n o t y e t been trie d . But
th e d ra m a tis t says th e m an ag er says th e public w ill n o t go to see such,
plays.
I ask ag ain , How does he know? B ut tru th to say , th e m anagers!
o f A m erica a re n o t th e m en m ost likely to know w hat w ill su cc e ed onj
I
th e sta g e . T h eir "study of th e public" is a t b e st a su p e rfic ia l one. Has!
i
it e v e r o c cu rred to th em to ask w hat it is th a t m akes th is o r th a t play
su cceed ? H ave th e y re a liz e d th a t th e public th e y m e e t is a f te r all b u t1
a sm all p a rt o f th e public? G ran ted th a t th e v a st m ass o f th e a te r-g o in g '
people go to see H oyt's fa rc e s, it still re m a in s tru e th a t th is m ass isj
b u t p a rt o f o v er six ty m illions and th a t w ith p ro p er plays th e th e a te r-g o in g |
public can be in c re a se d . T h ere s till rem ain s a public to w elcom e th e |
I
A m erican d ram a. I
247;
I
\
To illu s tra te . O f th e six ty m illions o f people in A m erica, a larg e
p a rt re a d sen sa tio n al novels from th e dim e novel to R id er H aggard, but'
a t th e sam e tim e th e re is a public fo r th e novels o f M essrs. H ow ells,
260 Ja m e s, C ab le, C raddock, K irkland, and th e re s t o f A m erican n o v elists.
Mr. H ow ells is n o t in d an g er o f sta rv in g on tw e n ty thousand a y e a r. C able
has an en co u rag in g c lie n te le .
So th e re is a ch an ce fo r th e genuinely re a listic d ra m a , a d ram a
th a t is re a listic a lly A m erican in c h a r a c te r and s itu a tio n , th o u g h t and
265 passion, ra th e r th a n in fire-en g in e s and w a te r-ta n k s. T hese " re a listic "
d ram as a re no m ore n a tiv e to us th a n th e sto rie s o f R id er H aggard. They
I a re a tra n s itio n from th e old to th e new and have th e hideous in co n g ru ities
i involved in th e change.
! It can co n fid en tly be e x p e c te d th a t th e changes in pro g ress in
!
270 th e novel w ill find c o u n te rp a rt in th e d ram a, fo r bo th cam e upon dem and
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and, broadly speaking, th e dem and fo r tru th is as likely to p ro d u ce th e
1
i sam e re su lts in th e d ram a as in th e novel. The public w ill h av e w hat
it w an ts in th e long run and th e m an ag ers w ill be as e a g e r to s a tisfy
dem and fo r a h ig h er d ram a as a low er. 1
275 As a fin al w ord in th is co n n ectio n : It w ill be o b serv ed th a t l|
ev ery w h ere in sist on th e f a c t th a t realism or A m ericanism does not com ei
I
upon th e o ry b u t d e sire, co ndition of th o u g h t. The public o f Mr. H o w ells;
and his fellow s do n ot re a d his books and uphold them so m uch b ecau se
o f th e au th o r as b ecau se th e y love re a litie s , and th e y love th em more^
280 and m ore.
The ro m an cers can n o t seem to a p p re c ia te th is new p o in t o f view ,
i
y e t th e p o in t o f view e x ists. To c a ll th is novel or d ram a "dry," "flat"!
and "vulgar" proves noth in g save th a t it is so to th e person th u s read in g
I
it. B ut th e re a re re a d e rs, and a la rg e body o f re a d e rs, who find th e se
285 sam e p ro d u ctio n s sig n ific a n t, deep and s y m p a th e tic —not upon th e o ry ,
I
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n o t o u t o f co n sid e ra tio n fo r th e a u th o rs, b u t sim ply b ecau se th e y havej
a passion fo r tru th ra th e r th an ro m a n c e. U nless th is is k ep t in m ind
th e m ost m ark ed in ju stic e is done th e lo v ers o f th e tru e d ram as and novels.
This sam e love fo r th e tru e , fo r th e m odern and d e m o c ra tic w ill
290 y e t produce and m ain tain upon th e s ta g e d ram as o f A m erican life as
I
genuine, as s y m p a th e tic and as e le c tric as th e d ram as o f Ibsen. D ram as
w hich w ill te a c h th e lev elin g up o f ran k s, p e ac e n o t w ar, love and
sy m pathy, n o t h a te and p reju d ice. The w o rn -o u t p lo ts and c h a ra c te rs
o f th e m elo d ram a and classic tra g e d y w ill no longer m asq u erad e as'
295 A m erican d ram a. A m erican life w ith its hopes and fe a rs, la u g h te r and
te a rs w ill h ave found its way upon th e new sta g e .
H am lin G arland
249
E d i t o r i a l E m e n d a t i o n s
il P age th re e o f th e so u rce d o cu m en t begins w ith "all." This is a p p a re n tly
th e la s t w ord o f a se n te n c e begun on th e p reced in g page th a t is one of
tw o m issing le av e s. The p re se n t te x t begins w ith th e d o c u m e n t’s firs t
co m p lete se n te n c e .
2 in sp iratio n . They] in sp ira tio n , th ey
( 6 seen] seen,
8 fo rem o st,] fo re m o st j
17 w ay,] w ay I
23 is th a t] is, th a t
25 p ictu resq u e."] p ictu resq u e".
31 on] on,
•35 d ram a.] d ram a
37 ju d g m en t] ju d g em en t j
45 b ro u g h t, . . . bringing,] b ro u g h t . . . bringing
:46 la st,] la s t 1
;49 im p etu s, . . . re p e a t,] im p etu s . . . re p e a t
50 po in t,] point
51 play: My P a r tn e r ,] p lay. "My P a rtn e r"
54 v ig ilan tes,] v ig ilan tes
j canyons] canons
i® ® My P a rtn e r] This d ram a !
63 villains,] villains '
67 genuine,] genuine
g irl,] g irl
Squire,] Squire
68 fig u res,] fig u res
■ 7 0 S till,] S till
84 e tc .,] e tc
86 B order D ram a] b o rd e r d ram a
| c o n tra st,] c o n tra st
87 D ram a] d ram a
^3 is,] is
109 H arrigan's] H arrig an s
116 fa rc ic a l.] fa rc ic a l
123 q uestion,] qu estio n ,
jl 27 funny,] funny i
130 b rav e,] b rav e I
h onest;] h o n est, ;
132 W inkle.] W inkle" j
Jl 3 3— 4 in an old] in old
143 q uestion,] q u estion
144 be?] be
147 c r itic ’s] c ritic s !
150 H oyt's] H oyts 1
151 m anager's] m an ag ers
160 possible?] possible.
165 nor] or j
169 d ram a, instead ] d ram a, in ste a d I
171 c o n tra st,] c o n tra st
174 d ram a. It] d ram a, it
176 fo rth . But] fo rth , but
182 H oyt's] H oyts
187 But] but
189 still,] still
190 productions,] p ro d u ctio n s
193 H ow ard’s] H ow ards
195 Lloyd,] Lloyd
198 villains,] villains
e tc .] e tc
j204 c h a ra c te rs;] c h a ra c te rs ,
;210 life . Y et] life , y e t
211 has, . . . m e,] has . . . m e
218 dram as] d ram a's
'222 m an, . . . v illain , . . . so u b re tte ,] m an . . . villain . . . s o u b re tte
229 "realistic"] " re a listic " G arland m eans th e te rm iro n ically as it m ight
apply to A ugustin D aly’s fam ous m elo d ram a U nder th e G aslight w hich
fe a tu re d a re a l tra in riding down a tra c k . A pp aren tly G arland has
underlined it fo r iro n ic em phasis.
230 d ra m a tist,] d ra m a tis t
|238 villainy] villainly
242 re p e a t,] re p e a t
244 How . . . su cceed ? It] how . . . su cceed , it .
247 ag ain , How . . . know ?] again how . . . know . ’
;2 53 H oyt’ s] H oyts
259 M essrs.] M essers:
265 ra th e r th an in] ra th e r in
271 and,] and
272 d ram a as in] d ra m a in
282 "dry,"] "dry"
284 it. But] it, b u t
! re a d e r, . . . re a d e rs,] re a d e rs . . . re a d e rs
286 au th o rs,] au th o rs
j '
•293 sym pathy,] sy m p ath y
18-21
i
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51
,71
f
91-92
i
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99
150
163
193-195
251
R e f e r e n c e N o t e s
The p lay w rig h ts and th e d a te s o f f ir s t p erfo rm an ces: C lay M eredith'
G reene (1850-1933), M 'Liss (1878), an a d a p ta tio n o f th e B ret H a rte 1
sto ry , and F orgiven (1885); Jo aquin M iller (1841?-1913), The D an ites
in th e S ierras (1877) and F o rty -N in e (1881); B artle y C am pbell
7T843-1888), My P a rtn e r (1879); th e tw o au th o rs o f E ag le’s N est: A ]
T ale o f '70 (1885) w ere A rden R . Sm ith and Edwin A rden; T. B. Walden'
(1811-1873), K it, th e A rkansas T ra v e lle r (1871); F ran k M urdoch1
(1843-1872), D avy C ro c k e tt (l8 7 2 j| a veh icle fo r th e a c to r Frank'
M ayo (1839-1896). !
Louis A ldrich (1843-1901) p lay ed th e ro le o f Jo e S aunders, th e hero
and rough-hew n p a rtn e r in a C alifo rn ia gold m ine. S aunders is falsely
a ccu sed o f m urdering his un p rin cip led p a rtn e r.
F re d e ric B ryton ( ? - 1902) p lay ed Jo h n D iam ond, "com m only called
th e 'Ja c k o' D iam onds.' " The play w as billed as "A D ram a o f In ten se
H um an In te re s t," in w hich lo v ers to rn asunder by a sch em in g villain
a re ev en tu ally re u n ite d . G arland p a ste d in to his 1886 n o teb o o k a
new sp ap er clipping o f th e p laybill. The synopsis o f th e fo u rth a c t:
"F orgiveness ch ain ed th em in bond e te rn a l."
The p lay w rig h ts and th e d a te s o f f ir s t p erfo rm an ces: Jo sep h Je ffe rso n
(1829-1905), who also a c te d th e le a d ro le , Rip Van W inkle (1865);
B enjam in E. W oolf ( ? - 1901), The M ighty D ollar (1875); Sam uel
C lem ens (1835-1910) w ith G eorge D ensm ore, C olonel S e lle rs, produced
as The G ilded Age (1874). This play is to be d istin g u ish ed from an
unproduced sequel, C olonel S ellers as a S c ie n tist (1883), w hich w as
a c o lla b o ratio n o f C lem en s and W illiam D ean H ow ells. D enm an
Thom pson (1833-1911) w ro te and s ta r re d in Josh u a W hitcom b (1878).,
Dan D arcey (1887) w as w ritte n by Ja m e s C onnor R oach.
Old L av ender (1878) w as one o f th e b iggest h its fo r H arrig an , who
w as also w ell know n fo r his M ulligan plays o f e th n ic New Y ork city',
c h a ra c te rs. i
I
C h arles H oyt (1860-1900) ach iev ed a phenom enal p o p u la rity w ith ’
such fa rc e s as A _ Bunch o f Keys (1883), _ A P arlo r M atch (1884), and
A T rip to C hinatow n ^1891 Jl T hese plays, lik e H arrigan's, o fte n fe a tu re d '
m usic.
i
Edm und C la re n c e S ted m an (1833-1908) w as a p o e t in th e g e n te e l
tra d itio n and a c ritic o f m ajor im p o rtan c e w hose an thology, A L ib rary
o f A m erican L ite ra tu re (11 vols. 1888-1890) w as ap p earin g a t th e ’
tim e G arland probably p re p a red th is le c tu re . S ted m an gave little
sp ace to th e d ram a in his anthology.
The p lay w rig h ts and th e d a te s o f f ir s t p e rfo rm an c es: B ronson Howard,
(1842-1908), The H e n rie tta (1887); W illiam G ille tte (1855-1937), H eld;
252
221
258
259-260
I
J
by th e E nem y (1886); Jam e s A. H erne (1839-1901), H e a rts o f Oak.
Tl879) and D riftin g A p art (1888); D avid D e m arest Lloyd, The Woman!
H a te r (18861 I
I
1
G arland's copy o f th e E rn est Rhys ed itio n o f The P illars o f Society!
and O th e r P lay s (London: C am elo t, 1888) co n tain s a g re a t d eal of,
m arg in alia. His co m m en t h e re su g g ests he had n o t y e t seen a|
p erfo rm an c e o f Ibsen. N ote G arland's close a tte n tio n to language!
in speaking o f "hearing" plays ra th e r th a n seein g th e m . ’
H. R id er H aggard w ro te ad v en tu re ro m an ces in im ita tio n o f R o b ert
Louis S tev en so n 's T rea su re Island. H aggard's King Solom on's M ines
(1887) w as ch u rn ed o u t in six w eeks and sold hundreds o f thousands
of copies.
R e p re se n ta tiv e w orks o f th e a u th o rs G arlan d m entions: W illiam D ean
H ow ells (1837-1920), The R ise o f Silas L apham (1885); H enry Jam e s
(1843-1916), T he B ostonians (1886); G eorge W ashington C able
(1844-1925), The G randissim es (1880); C h arles E g b ert C raddock was
th e pseudonym o f M ary M urfree (1850-1922) w hose firs t collection:
of lo c al-co lo r s to rie s w as In th e T en n essee M ountains (1884); Joseph
K irkland (1830-1894), Z ury: The M eanest Man in Spring C ounty (1887).
253
C H A P T E R E I G H T
T H E S W E E T D R E A M O F I D E N T I T Y :
G A R L A N D ' S 1 9 2 7 D R A M A T I Z A T I O N O F R I P V A N W I N K L E
j"Does nobody know m e? Is th e re nobody h ere knows m e?" j
I R ip Van W inkle I
" i
Even though G arland gave his w ife and d au g h ters no ch o ice in m oving
i>ack to New Y ork C ity in 1916, he could n o t p re v e n t th em from com plaining
I
a b o u t being cooped up in a se v e n th -flo o r a p a rtm e n t. The su m m er of 1917 w as
ty p ic a lly hot and hum id in th e c ity and in an a tte m p t to fo re s ta ll a fam ily
in su rre c tio n , G arland snuck o ff to th e C atsk ills to se a rc h fo r a su m m er re sid en c e .
He su cceed ed in finding a ru stic cab in in th e idyllic com m unity of O n te o ra P ark
i :
n e a r T an n ersv ille, New Y ork. On A ugust 2, 1917, G arland and his g ra te fu l fam ily,
I
s e ttle d in fo r w hat would be th e f ir s t o f te n happy sum m ers. It w as in O nteora!
th a t G arland w ro te m ost o f th e la st th re e volum es o f his M iddle B order
I
j
au to b io g rap h ies. !
! i
As G arland n e ared th e end o f th e fin al volum e, B ac k -T ra ilers o f th e ;
M iddle B order (1928), a w elcom e o p p o rtu n ity cam e fo r a new p ro je c t. G arland,
of course had all along been a c tiv e as an a n ti m odern d ra m a c ritic , but now
jWith his re p u ta tio n as an A m erican sage secu red , th e ch an ce cam e to w rite
a n o th e r play. As G arland te lls it in his m an u scrip t d ra ft o f A ftern o o n N eighbors:
L ast au tu m n D r. E dw ard Jo n es, P re sid e n t o f th e [O n teo ra] Colony,
announced th a t he w ould build and p re se n t to th e C lub, a co m p lete
and u p -to -d a te little th e a te r, and th e building is now su b sta n tia lly
read y fo r its fo rm al d ed icatio n . When he and Miss Viola S u tto n
asked m e to su g g est a play fo r its opening bill, I re p lie d , "Why
n o t produce an e arly ’R ip Van W inkle’? (#1 pp. 547-547a)
I
G arland's reco m m en d atio n w as im m ed iately a c c e p te d and he was
com m issioned to produce a sc rip t. Thus th e sto ry o f G arland's c a re e r as a
playw right, w hich w as previously th o u g h t to have ended w ith th e M iller of
254
B oscobel (1909), can now be e x ten d e d w ith c e r ta in ty a t le a s t u n til Ju ly 16, 1927.
On th a t evening th e O n te o ra Club p re m ie re d H am lin G arland's d ra m a tiz a tio n
of Rip Van W inkle, th e te x t o f w hich is now p re s e n te d h ere.
T e x t u a l H i s t o r y a n d I n t r o d u c t i o n
G arland's fin al ty p e sc rip t o f his R ip Van W inkle (#2106), on w hich th is
I
I
itext is based, w as th e th ird o f th re e m an u scrip t d ra fts in th e H am lin G arland
I I
'P apers. This th ird fa ir copy is strik in g ly d iffe re n t from G arland's f ir s t tw o
I I
a tte m p ts . Since it w as th e one th a t w as p e rfo rm e d in th e O n teo ra th e a t e r ,1
it is th e lo g ical ch o ice fo r th is te x t. But th e sto ry of th e co m p o sitio n al process;
th a t brought G arland to th is fin al p e rfo rm ed v ersio n is an absorbing one. This
s to ry show s once ag ain how w ary one m ust be in rely in g on G arlan d 's published
m em o irs fo r in fo rm atio n on his d ram a c a re e r, and it o ffe rs insight to G arland's;
read in g o f Irving's classic ta le and to th e w ay he p erceiv ed his own p la ce in
A m erican le tte r s . For G arlan d w as q u ite lite ra lly th e R ip Van W inkle o f A m e ric an 1
lite r a tu r e in th e sen se th a t he to o s le p t fo r th e tw e n ty y ears aw ay from New-
Y ork 1896-1916. Like R ip, G arland re tu rn e d fin ally as an an ach ro n ism , and,|
I
to apply Irving's w ords, "w as re v e ren c e d as one of th e p a tria rc h s o f th e v illa g e ,1
and a ch ro n icle o f th e old tim es." Thus G arlan d 's decision to d ra m a tiz e R ip !
iVan W inkle m ay be seen as an adoption o f i t as a p erso n al alleg o ry fo r his q u est
fo r id e n tity .
Like m illions o f A m erican s in g e n e ra tio n a f te r g e n e ra tio n , G arland's
im ag in atio n had been c a p tu re d by W ashington Irving's "R ip Van W inkle" (1819).
F or th e young G arland th e p rim e a ttr a c tio n w as Irving's use o f A m erican m aterials;
i
in d e p ic tin g th e d is tin c t C atsk ill region and its c h a ra c te rs . B ut it is im p o rta n t
to re c a ll th a t during th e la te n in e te en th c e n tu ry Irving's sto ry w as tra n s m itte d
255]
to m any A m ericans n o t th ro u g h th e o rig in al te x t b ut thro u g h th e a c to r Josephj
J e ffe rso n 's sta g e a d a p ta tio n . From 1866-1903, Josep h J e ffe rso n m ade R ip Van'
W inkle one o f th e g re a te s t su ccesses in A m erican th e a te r h isto ry , his nam e
\ j
b ecom ing a synonym fo r th e title c h a ra c te r. D uring th e la te 1880's in Boston,'
G arlan d saw J e ffe rso n in th is play. For good m easu re, his clo se frien d Jam e s
I
A. H erne h im self w ro te and played in his own v ersion, now lo s t, o f R ip in th e
jl870's. (T here w ere tw e n ty o th e r s ta g e versions o f Rip co p y rig h ted b etw een
i
1870 and 1915.) So G arlan d had long been n e a r th e popular phenom enon th a t
jwas R ip Van W inkle.
<
j As a lite ra ry h isto ria n G arland would o f co u rse be in te re s te d in W ashington
i
Irving as th e f ir s t A m erican m an o f le tte r s to win an in te rn a tio n a l re p u ta tio n .'
I
jBut v ery e arly in his c a re e r as he w as w ritin g his m assive se rie s o f le c tu re s,
1
j"The E volution of A m erican Thought" (1885-87), G arland te n d e d to devalue
Irving's w ritin g s as "im ita tio n s o f A ddison" (#465d p. 200). As a ro m a n tic who
w as try in g to in v en t A m erican ism , G arland m ost valued o rig in ality , and Irving
1
w as n o t as A m erican to G arland as, fo r ex am p le, Poe and H aw th o rn e.
B ut as G arland grew to becom e a lead in g ex p o n en t o f reg io n alism in
lite ra tu re , he w as m ore w illing to give Irving his due fo r having c re a te d the'
C atsk ills as a d istin c t reg io n . And o f course once G arland m oved to th e C atsk ills
in 1917 he fe lt m ore deeply Irving's in flu en ce in a reg io n th a t to th is day is
known as Rip Van W inkle co u n try . The o ld er G arland u ltim a te ly cam e to a sso c iate
th e s e ttin g o f Irving's s to ry w ith th e v alue o f p a trio tism . Upon his fam ily's
re tu rn to O n te o ra from th e ir 1923 trip to E ngland, G arland re m a rk e d : !
If I had any doubt o f m y d a u g h ters' lo y a lty [to th e U. S.],
it w as d isp elled on th e follow ing day w hen, ju st a t su n se t, our|
tra in cam e o p p o site th e loom ing m asses o f th e C atsk ills. B eneath
a sky of fla m e color, p u rp le and gold, lay th e bro ad H udson running
sile n tly re fle c tin g on its sm ooth su rfa c e th e splendor o f hills and
256]
I
)
clouds. It w as a gorgeous and fittin g re tu rn to "our hills" and
"our stre a m ." (N eighbors 104) !
\
T he sam e y e a r G arlan d d e m o n stra te d his lite ra ry p a trio tism and deep
i
I
co n cern fo r solidifying an A m erican tra d itio n w hen he w ro te A rch er H untington
i
o f th e A m erican A cadem y: |
W hat would you think o f m aking a fe a tu re o f th e A m erican;
w rite rs o f 1824 fo r our tw e n tie th an n iv ersary o f n e x t y ear? C ooper
and Irving would be th e p rin cip al fig u res b u t B ryant had w ritte n
se v e ra l poem s. If w e could have som e re fe re n c e to th e se w rite rs
and perh ap s a c ase in w hich som e o f th e ir mss w ere ex h ib ited ,
it would be sig n ific a n t of our gro w th as a n atio n . C o o p ers SPY
and . . . Irvings RIP VAN WINKLE would have g re a t in te re s t. (29
Nov 1923 #2298)
So w hen in S ep tem b er 1926 G arland's neighbor D r. Edw ard Jo n es in v ited
him to s e le c t a play fo r th e opening o f th e O n teo ra T h e a te r, th e ch o ice o f R ip
|Van W inkle w as no c asu a l re c o m m en d atio n by G arland. When Jo n es and th e
jdram atic d ire c to r of th e new th e a te r, Miss Vida S u tto n , approved G arland's
id e a , G arland s e t to w ork on tw o fro n ts: he beg an his own o riginal d ra m a tiz a tio n
s tra ig h t from th e Irving sto ry and he m eanw hile w ro te his frien d A rth u r Hobson
i
Quinn fo r in fo rm atio n on th e m any previous s ta g e v ersions o f R ip.
B ut b efo re piecing to g e th e r th e r e s t o f th e co m p o sitio n al s to ry , one,
t
t
should tu rn to G arland's acco u n t o f his in v o lv em en t in th e R ip Van W inkle 1
I
p ro d u ctio n in A ftern o o n N eighbors ( 1 9 3 4 ) . In tw o s e p a ra te sec tio n s, pp. 3 4 4 - 4 6 j
and pp. 4 1 9 - 2 0 , G arlan d a ss e rts th a t his o rig in al su g g estio n w as to s ta g e "th e
second version" o f R ip, presum ably th e a d a p ta tio n by English p lay w rig h t John
K e rr p erfo rm ed in 1 8 2 9 . A ccording to G arlan d , a f te r sending fo r a copy o f
th is ra re item from A rth u r Hobson Q uinn, G arlan d and Vida S u tto n te rm e d th e
K err version a "ludicrous m elodram a" and a d e b a te ensued o v er how to p ro ceed : {
i
F or som e days I m used on th e th e m e and ev en w en t so
fa r as to sk e tc h o u t a scen ario w ith Miss S u tton.
257]
Som e o f my frien d s urged m e to w rite an e n tire ly newj
play . . • and I was te m p te d to tr y it. . . . "If I should a tte m p tj
a d ra m a tiz a tio n , I w ill k eep w ith in th e lines o f th e o rig in al
(346)
H aving le f t th is c le a r im pression th a t he n ev er w ro te a play o f R ip , G arland
skips to opening n ig h t, s ta tin g sim ply th a t th e y d ecid ed to sta g e th e old K e rr1
version fo r its "h isto ric a l valu e."
i
W hatever G arland's in te n tio n s—and one in te n tio n m ay have been to co n ceal
fa ilu re —his acco u n t is a t odds w ith th e av ailab le ev id en ce. F irst, as G arland's'
w ith A rth u r Hobson Quinn su g g ests, G arlan d 's o riginal
re co m m en d atio n to sta g e R ip could n ot have re fe rre d to a p a rtic u la r version
sin ce he knew nothing ab o u t th e various early versions u n til a f te r Quinn gave]
him th e in fo rm atio n . The p o in t is th a t in G arland's published a c c o u n t o f th e '
play sele c tio n , th e decision w as d e fin itiv e from th e very firs t to do th e early
i
K err version, w hen in f a c t th e only d ecision w as to do a_ version of R ip , pending
th e o u tco m e o f G arland's re se a rc h .
Second, G arland is being disingenuous in saying he w as te m p te d to w rite,
his own d ra m a tiz a tio n of R ip , fo r th e irre fu ta b le ev id en ce is th a t G arland did j
i
i
indeed co m p lete his own d ra m a tiz a tio n th a t w en t fa r beyond sk etch in g out:
i
| i
"a sce n a rio ." N ot only do we have G arland's firs t d ra ft o f his d ra m a tiz atio n ,!
jwe have a second d ra ft b ased on th e firs t, and th e e n tire ly new th ird d ra ft'
p re se n te d h ere. W hile it is tru e th a t th is th ird m an u scrip t is v ery close to th e
jKerr versio n , th e decision to produce G arland's th ird m an u scrip t grew out of
G arland's own co m p o sitio n al p ro cess and n ot o u t o f an a p rio ri decision to produce
th e o ld er version fo r its h isto ric a l v alu e. ,
I would th e re fo re o ffe r th is as th e m ost likely co m p o sitio n al scenariol
fo r th is te x t o f R ip Van W inkle:
i
co rresp o n d en ce
258
When D r. E dw ard Jo n es so lic ite d G arlan d 's opinion as to an ap p ro p riate;
play fo r th e opening o f th e O n teo ra th e a te r , G arlan d did su g g est R ip and o ffe re d
to co n su lt w ith A rth u r Hobson Quinn as to th e b e st version to use. It is possible;
i
th a t G arland s ta r te d im m e d ia te ly on his own d ra m a tiz a tio n , b u t it's alm ost!
c e rta in th a t he did so a f te r receiv in g Q uinn's l e t t e r o f S ep tem b er 19, 1926. In:
jthis le tte r Quinn su rv ey ed th e fo u r m ajor v ersions o f R ip; th e John K err version
(1829), th e C h arles Burke version (1850), th e T. H. L acy version (c. 1850), and:
th e Joseph J e ffe rso n versio n (1865). G arlan d knew only th e J e ffe rso n v ersio n
I
and had re je c te d it as a p o ssibility. Quinn rep lied :
If you th in k Je ffe rso n 's v ersio n is "bad" I can assu re you,
th a t th e o th e r versions a re w orse. I see no sp ecial sig n ifican ce,
in a rev iv al o f e ith e r (Burke] or [Lacy]. T h ere m ight be some;
in te re s t in p re sen tin g [K err] as th e firs t version of "R ip" th a t
has survived, b u t it is n ot a very good play. (29 S ep t 1926 #3187) i
G arland w as also w o rried ab o u t co p y rig h t fe e s, a n o th e r reaso n to re je c t
th e m ore re c e n t J e ffe rso n version s till under co p y rig h t. Quinn a rra n g e d toi
send G arland copies o f th e K err and B urke versio n s, b u t added a possible solution
to G arland's s e le c tio n problem : 1
I
! Why d on't you do as all th e r e s t did? T ake th e old m a te ria l
and w rite a new "R ip Van W inkle," no one could say a w ord about,
th a t! (#3187) '
!
If he had n o t done so alread y , G arlan d th e n began his own d ra m a tiz a tio n .
W orking quickly as usual, G arland soon fin ish ed a tre a tm e n t com prising a
co m p leted A ct I and d e ta ile d scen ario s o f A cts II and III (#210a). This fir s t
m an u scrip t o f 32 le av e s is b o th ty p ed and au to g ra p h , w ith e x ten siv e revisions,
I
In G arland's hand. On th e title page a p p ears, " F irst d ra ft acco rd in g to scen ario .":
Thus w hile it m ay be tru e as G arland says th a t he "sketch[ed] out a sce n a rio
w ith Miss S u tto n ," G arlan d did n o t go on to re v e a l th e w hole tru th : he ad v an ced
259
fa r beyond th is sce n a rio to w rite th e e n tire play on his own; th e m an u scrip t
o f th is " firs t d ra ft" b ears ev id en ce o f no o th e r hand b u t G arlan d ’s. j
i
This firs t d ra ft w as th e re fo re th e second s te p in w hat ap p ears to be a
consciously co n ceiv ed plan to produce G arland's new versio n o f R ip . The O n te o ra
T h e a te r's Vida S u tto n and D r. E dw ard Jo n es m ust h ave given te n ta tiv e ap p ro v al
to G arland's d ra ft b ecau se G arland ad v an ced th e p ro je c t to a second d ra ft (#210c)J
This second d ra ft is a c lea n re ty p in g th a t follow s th e fir s t on n e arly e v ery p o in t.1
i
Indeed, th e re is n o t a single revision by hand in th is ty p e sc rip t th a t ends,
curiously, a f te r b ut six le a v e s. j
] The po ssib ility e x ists th a t ad d itio n al le av e s o f th is second d ra ft have!
i
been lo st, b u t w h e th er th is is so or w h e th er G arlan d sim ply sto p p ed w ork, we;
do know th a t th is d ra m a tiz a tio n by G arland w as n o t th e one u ltim a te ly chosen
i
fo r p ro d u ctio n . T h ere w as a v ery good reaso n fo r th is: th e copies o f th e Kerr.
I
and B urke versions w hich Quinn had prom ised to send fin ally a rriv e d . As "bad"j
i
as th e se versions m ay have b een , th e y w ere su p erio r to G arland's on tw o co u n ts.1
F irs t, th ey p re sen te d re a d y -to -u se te c h n ic a l in fo rm atio n on sce n e ry and co stu m es
w hich G arland could n o t provide. Second, th ey w ere e ffe c tiv e e n te rta in m e n ts
w hile G arland's play w as a s ta tic c h a ra c te r p iece.
The re a d e r o f G arlan d 's fir s t tw o d ra fts w ill see little re sem b la n c e to
th e Irving sto ry . R ip's w ife Jo h an n a is indeed a te rm a g e n t b u t in th is c ase shej
is ju stifia b ly so b ecau se o f R ip's in a b ility to re fo rm —and re fo rm is R ip's s ta te d
goal. O ut o f th e blue com es new s th a t R ip's ric h U ncle P e te r has died and leftj
him a goodly sum on w hich R ip th ro w s a p a rty fo r his frien d s. Jo h an n a crash es
th e p a rty , disbelieving R ip's sto ry ab o u t an in h e rita n c e , and s e ts R ip to flig h t
on a sto rm y n ig h t. R ip sleep s th e re q u isite tw e n ty y e ars and re tu rn s to d iscover
th a t his w ife has died and th a t th e tow nspeople assum ed he had abandoned h er
260
:o live alone on his in h e rita n c e . J u s t as R ip is about to be siezed fo r m aking
o ff w ith th e m oney and, in e f f e c t, killing his w ife, he produces th e old c e r tif ic a te
signifying his u n sp en t in h e rita n c e , w hich he th e n passes on to his d a u g h ter Ju d ith .
Rip Van W inkle fin ally ach iev es id e n tity and re s p e c ta b ility as a good m an. j
G arlan d 's rew o rk in g o f Irving’s sto ry w as no m ore lib e ra l th a n previous;
a d a p ta tio n s, b u t it w as n o t good d ram a. H ad G arlan d stu ck to tu rn in g R ip V an
w inkle in to th e p e rso n ific a tio n o f re fo rm , th e play m ig h t have w orked, how ever
m uch it m isreads Irving. B ut G arland w anders o ff in to fran k ly tire so m e
are se n ta tio n s o f lo c al co lo r. When G arland re c e iv e d th e K err and B urke v e rsio n s,1
I
even he could see th a t th e y w ere b e tte r plays. O ne su rm ises th a t G arland th o u g h t’
(discretion to be th e b e tte r p a rt o f valo r and su p p ressed his early d ra m a tiz a tio n s;
l j
in fav o r o f e ith e r K err or B urke's play. B ut w hich one? j
!
S ince G arland w as th e only one who had th e ra re K err versio n , it w as
i
le who c o n tro lled th e se le c tio n of it as th e basis o f th e O n teo ra p ro d u ctio n .:
H ere it w ill do to o ffe r a sc h e m a tic of th e m ajo r versions o f Rip as co m p ared
to Irving's sto ry , a f te r w hich it m ay be c le a re r w hat G arland saw in th e K e rr'
i
I
jversion:
IRVING (1819) |
| l
R ip is a g o o d -n a tu re d h en p ecked husband w ith a "te rm a g e n t w ife." His
i
g re a te s t e rro r w as "an in su p erab le av ersio n to all kinds o f p ro fita b le lab o u r." j
He had a son R ip, "an urchin b e g o tte n in his own likeness," and a dog W olf, also-
te rro riz e d by D am e Van W inkle. R ip's m a rria g e b eco m es increasin g ly u n b earab le, j
I i
y e t he and Wolf endure. By ch an ce w hile "on a long ram b le" R ip en co u n ters;
th e little m en who play nine-pins, and a d rau g h t from th e ir flagon se ts him j
to slee p fo r tw e n ty y e a rs. When he re tu rn s to his v illag e, "T here w as a busy,j
ru stlin g , d isp u tatio u s to n e ab o u t it." R ip le a rn s th e in n k eep er N icholas V edder
(has died and th e sch o o lm aste r Van B um m el has gone o ff to C ongress. R ip finds
|
his d au g h ter, Ju d ith G ard en ier, and w ith little ado an old w om an villagerj
I |
jrecognizes R ip. R ip quickly ''resu m ed his old w alks and h ab its" and was
"re v eren c e d as one o f th e p a tria rc h s o f th e v illag e." W ith his w ife having died,|
R ip w as fre e o f " p e ttic o a t g o v ern m en t" and c o n te n t to live o ut his days te llin g
I
his s to ry to th e v isito rs to Mr. D o o little 's h o tel.
K ERR (1829)
I
K e rr, an Englishm an, adds to th e sto ry f ir s t th e m o tiv e o f a contract-
b etw een R ip and his devious landlord, D errick Van Slous: D errick 's son H erm an
i
is to m arry R ip's child d a u g h ter L ow enna, who has ju st in h e rite d a fo rtu n e.
i
jBut w ishing to give Low enna a ch an ce to m arry whom she p leases, R ip in se rts
I
ja clau se in th e c o n tra c t allow ing him to n u llify th e d eal an y tim e w ithin tw e n ty
1
'years. A t th e sam e tim e a love sto ry is added w ith tw o new c h a ra c te rs,
i
K n ick erb o ck er th e sch o o lm aste r, and A lice, s is te r to R ip. In th is incarnation,;
R ip is a c aro u ser and a drunk whom D am e Van W inkle h arasses a t e v ery tu rn .!
I
1
When R ip com es hom e drunk one nig h t, th e D am e ro u ts him from hom e,
iw hereupon he m e ets th e m ountain sp irits and sleep s fo r tw e n ty y e a rs. When
R ip re tu rn s , th e evil H erm an is ab o u t to e n fo rc e his claim to Low enna whoj
now is in love w ith h e r cousin G u sta ffe . A co u rtro o m scen e ensu es in w hich
R ip p re se n ts h im self a t th e e le v e n th hour and e x ercise s th e rep u d ia tio n clause
in th e m a rria g e c o n tra c t. R ip is re lie v ed to le a rn o f his w ife's d e ath and th e
play ends w ith a to a s t by R ip, "H ere's to your h e a lth , and your fam ily 's health,J
and m ay you all liv e long and pro sp er." T h ere a re also se v e ra l p a trio tic sp eech es
i
in th is version, and K nick erb o ck er's e le c tio n to C ongress is given p ro m in en ce. j
I
This is indeed classic m elo d ram a th a t sh ifts th e fo cu s to th e union of
tru e lo v ers. H ere R ip is m uch m ore a p a rt o f th e e sta b lish m e n t th a n he is in'
Irving's s to ry . All fu tu re s ta g e versions a re b ased on K err and n o t Irving's story.j
R ip's drinking beco m es his key c h a ra c te r t r a it and th e play's running jo k e. K err
idoes not em ploy d ia le c t for th e dialogue. j
I
BURKE (1850) |
This version follow s K err w ith a few sm all m o d ificatio n s. B urke's dialogue
;is w ritte n in d ia le c t and, m ost sig n ific a n tly , in ste a d o f slyly re jo ic in g a t his
w ife's d e ath , R ip is kind in saying, "she vas de w ife o f my bosom , she w ar m ine
frou fo r all d a t." B urke’s Rip is so m ew h at m o re m ellow and lovable and som e
o f th e su b -p lo ts o f K err, w hile re ta in e d , a re re d u c ed in fav o r o f em phasis on
R ip as a com ic c h a ra c te r.
i s
! A copy o f th e S am uel F ren ch ed itio n o f th is B urke play is to be found
in G arlan d 's p ap ers w ith his m an u scrip ts of R ip Van W inkle.
(LACY (c. 1850)
| This follow s th e A c t I o f K err and B urke, b u t A ct II is a lte re d . In th is
I
lease D am e Van W inkle is aliv e and re m a rrie d to N icholas V edder upon R ip's
[return. R ip enjoys th e sp e c ia l rev en g e o f see in g V edder ty ra n n iz e o v er his1
ex -w ife. The love sto ry is re ta in e d but th e re is no ending co u rtro o m scen e;
I ,
R ip sim ply produces th e m a rria g e c o n tra c t and H erm an is th u s fo iled .
JE FFER SO N (1865)
This m ost fam o u s v ersio n a c te d fo r y e ars by Joseph J e ffe rso n was in
!
f a c t th e p ro d u ct o f a c o lla b o ratio n b etw een J e ffe rso n and Dion B oucicaultJ
U nlike th e previous versions in tw o a c ts , th is v ersio n is in th re e a c ts , y e t thej
p lo t is sim p ler so as b e tte r to serv e Je ffe rso n as a v eh icle. In th is play D e rrick
Von B eekm an is th e villain who seek s Rip's s ig n a tu re on a c o n tra c t w hich would
i
i
relin q u ish R ip's ow nership to his land. R ip is sk e p tic a l and re fu ses to sign.'
A fte rw a rd s R ip is d riv en o u t by his w ife G re tc h e n and w hen he re tu rn s afterj
-
263
tw e n ty y ears G re tc h en is m a rrie d to D errick who has ta k e n c o n tro l o f Rip's
p ro p e rty . R ip is a t som e pains to prove his id e n tity , b u t w hen he prod u ces th e
old c o n tra c t o f sale , D errick is exposed as a c h e a t and R ip and G re tc h en a re
I
reunited happily. The love sub-plot concerning Rip's daughter and her cousin
jare retained but further deemphasized.
W hatever G arland m ay have th o u g h t o f th is version, it is fa r and aw ay
th e b e st play of R ip w e h av e. T he J e ffe rso n v ersio n even claim s som e lite ra ry
I
m e rit in its tr e a tm e n t o f R ip's illite ra c y as th e reaso n he could be bilked by.
D errick . T h ere is no q u estio n it is th e m ost se n tim e n ta l and co m passionate'
I
I
,in reuniting Rip and his w ife. Yet it shares with the others the exploitation
Jof Rip's intem perance, the presentation of the love sub-plot of Rip's daughter,!
'and the acknowledgment by Rip of his need to reform—all o f which have nothing'
f
w h atso ev er to do w ith Irving's sto ry .
F a c ed w ith such optio n s, G arland chose to base his new v ersio n larg ely
I
on K err. Indeed, G arland's te x t follow s K err's so closely th a t G arlan d 's reaso n s
I
j
jfor se le c tin g th e K err te x t b eco m e m ore sig n ific a n t th a n th e a c tu a l a lte ra tio n s
he m ade.
I
One p ra c tic a l reaso n for choosing th e K err te x t o v er th e B urke te x t
w as th a t K err did n o t em ploy d ia le c t o th e r th an a few co n v en tio n al D utch
ex pressions fo r th e purpose o f lo c a l color. The B urke te x t w ould have been
e x tre m e ly d iffic u lt for O n te o ra 's a m a te u r a c to rs to p e rfo rm , so G arlan d 's ch o ice
of K err w as e x p ed ien t. B ut his se le c tio n o f K err also coincided m ore clo sely 1
to his own e a rlie r versions o f R ip w hich also did not em ploy d ia le c t. F or G arland,
d ia le c t w as alw ays clo sely c o n n ec te d to lite ra ry realism and sin ce G arlan d readilyj
acknow ledged th a t th e play o f R ip w as "ludicrous m elo d ram a," th e re w as no
reaso n to hold to th e sta n d a rd o f re a listic lite ra ry th eo ry .
264
I
i
The K err te x t to u c h ed an even d e e p e r chord in G arland. A t th e end
o f A ct II, Scene 2, K err in se rts a b rie f b it o f business b etw een K n ickerbocker,1
now a C ongressm an, and a young g irl nam ed Sophia. K nick erb o ck er's w ife c a tc h e s
him m aking an im p ro p er ad v an ce upon Sophia and d rives th e "vile Lothario'!
I
o ff. Sophia th e n re c ite s th e poem , "The Indian M aid," w hich re h e a rse s th e
I
fa m ilia r G arland th e m e th a t m en a re false gross anim als and th a t as th e m ore
p e rfe c t sex, w om en m ust e x ercise "ch a ste p ru d en ce." F o r G arland th is scen e
>
w as o f m ore th a n a ca d e m ic in te re s t. He had b een try in g to fend o ff his younger
d au g h ter's su ito rs fo r som e tim e . C o n stan ce G arlan d was th en n o t q u ite tw e n ty
and she had announced h e r en g ag em en t. G arlan d p rev ailed upon C o n stan ce
to p erfo rm in th e O n te o ra play, hoping to k eep h er out o f c irc u la tio n fo r th e
su m m er. C o n stan ce's o ld er s is te r M ary Isab el re c a lle d th is su m m er in h er own
m em oir:
The only th in g th a t re a lly w o rried D addy th a t su m m er
w as C onnie's ro m an ce w ith Jo e [H arp er o f th e publishing H arp ers].
1 She w as v ery young and sin ce Jo e had to spend a lo t o f tim e on
his ran ch in A rizona and on th e W est C o ast w ith his m o th e r, D addy
k e p t hoping it would a ll blow o v er. (100) j
I
G arland's hopes fo r R ip as th e w edge b e tw e e n his d au g h ter and h e r fia n c ee
w ere dashed w hen Jo e H arp er rem ain ed in O n te o ra to ta k e a p a rt in th e play
h im self. M ary concludes:
We gave th e old play "R ip Van W inkle" th a t sum m er, w ith C onnie
and Jo e as th e beguiling young lo v e rs. By th e end o f th e su m m erj
my s is te r had m ade up h er m ind and th e re w as an au tu m n w edding
a t G ray L edge. (100) j
Beyond th e m a tte r o f se le c tio n , G arlan d did m ake sev e ra l changes in
th e K err te x t th a t in th e a g g re g a te a re sm all b u t te llin g . N ear th e end o f th e
I
firs t scen e o f A ct I R ip sings a w arning song a b o u t th e burdens o f m a rrie d life
j
(th is te x t, lines 276-94). This song is from K err, b ut G arland d e le te s th e third
sta n z a w hich m oans how th e w ife "rules th e ro o st." A gain in A ct I, Scene 4,
265
G arlan d elim in a te s R ip's D rinking Song w hich blam es his drinking on his w ife.
i
The e f f e c t o f th e se changes is to d eem p h asize K err's overdone c h a ra c te riz a tio n
of D am e Van Winkle as th e te rm a g e n t sh rew . In G arlan d ’s v ersio n , th e D am e
com es in fo r a less stin g in g in d ic tm e n t and m ore resp o n sib ility is assigned to
R ip. This coincides w ith G arlan d 's b e lie f th a t drunkenness is a p erso n al m oral
w eakness found in th e w eak er m ale sex. I
Though G arland w as a p ro fessed p a trio t, he also so fte n e d K err's jingoism.^
As an E nglishm an, K err m ade a su ccessfu l c a re e r out o f a d ap tin g p lays fo r
j
A m erican au d ien ces who in 1830 w ere q u ite in th e m ood fo r K err's c ra fty
i
assu ran ces th a t A m erican s had in d eed founded a new n a tio n d is tin c t from G re a t
B ritain . N early one hundred y e ars la te r, even G arland could see th e fic tio n
of an A m erican n a tio n th a t b eliev ed it had c u t its e lf o ff fro m E ngland. So a t
ithe beginning o f A ct II, Scene 3, G arland has c u t K err's Song o f G lee th a t rejo ices,'
j
"C olum bia's s ta r is rising." A t th e end o f th is sam e scen e G arlan d also cu ts
I
th e second s ta n z a o f an e le c tio n song th a t m ocks E uropean p rid e to th e advantage'
o f "freeb o rn " A m erican s. T hese and o th e r changes m ake G arlan d 's v ersio n o f
Rip Van Winkle an even m ore un ified s ta te m e n t th a n K err's ab o u t th e challenge^
I
o f ach iev in g a p erso n al id e n tity .
W ith his version o f R ip Van W inkle c o m p le ted , G arland o n ce m o re donned
his old h a t as p u b licity m an in drum m ing up a tte n tio n fo r his new p ro d u ctio n
o f R ip . Few co m m unity th e a te rs in A m erica a t th e tim e could have co u n ted
on one o f its m em bers to call upon frien d s a t th e New Y ork T im es to cover|
its opening. The O n teo ra th e a te r w as th e b e n e fic ia ry of th e H am lin G arland
p u b lic ity ju g g e rn a u t. G arlan d in v ited m any o f his fam ous frien d s to see Rip,
including a young Brooks A tkinson, d ram a c r itic o f th e T im es. G arlan d w ro te
A tkinson:
266
C ould you co m e up fo r th e d a te th e 16th o f Ju ly? I hope it w ill
be possible fo r you to g e t aw ay fo r a n ig h t. I
The th e a te r is e n tire ly m odern in s ta g e m ach in ery and
lig h tin g eq u ip m en t. I v e n tu re to say th a t no L ittle T h e a te r even
j in New Y ork is m ore p e rfe c t . . . .
I As I am la rg e ly resp o n sib le fo r th e se le c tio n of th is play
fo r th e opening p e rfo rm a n c e , I am esp e c ially anxious th a t it should
prove a c re d it to th e th e a te r and th e club. W hile in a cc o rd a n ce
' of th e ru les o f th e club no p e rfo rm a n c e s open to th e g e n eral public
! a re possible, in v ita tio n s w ill be s e n t o u t r a th e r w idely to th ose
i sp ecially in te re s te d in th e L ittle T h e a te r M ovem ent. If you can
use a sh o rt a r tic le ab o u t it, I w ill see th a t it is p u t in shape and
som e p h o to g rap h s ta k e n of both th e o u tsid e and th e inside, to g e th e r
w ith a lis t o f th e c h a ra c te rs and a c to rs. (25 Ju n e 1927 #885)
A tkinson w as on v a c a tio n and unable to a tte n d , b u t he acc o rd e d G arland
I
th e re s p e c t due th e D ean of A m erican L e tte rs :
M r. M arkel as Sunday e d ito r should have firs t call on your
fe a tu re a r tic le if it is n o t to o la te fo r his frig h tfu lly a n te d a te d
m ag azin e. O th erw ise w e should e sp e c ially enjoy an a rtic le o f
| 1000-2000 w ords from your p e n , if possible fo r th e Sunday d ra m a tic
! page. Mr. John B yram , my a s s is ta n t, w ill co m m u n icate w ith you.
; U nless th e a rtic le w as from your h ig h ly -ad m ired pen, we h ard -b o iled
I new sp ap erm en would sadly lack th e en th u siasm we ought to have
ab o u t th e su b je c t. (3 Ju ly 1927 #885) ;
For u n d eterm in ab le reaso n s, G arlan d n e v er g o t his a rtic le in, b u t his
R ip Van W inkle did p re m ie r as sch ed u led on Ju ly 16, 1927. A ccording to G arland's
m em oirs it w as a su ccess, b u t tw o a sp e c ts o f his co m m en ts seem sig n ific a n t.
F irs t, G arland's p re o c cu p a tio n w ith th e play's c o stu m es re in fo rc e s his view
i
o f w om en as fem ale fu rn itu re : "C o n stan ce w as th e ingenue of th e p ie c e , and
h e r c o stu m e was c alled a 'w ow ,' w h a tev e r th a t m ay m ean" (N eighbors 420)J
To G arland a ll fe m a le acco m p lish m en t w as invisible sav e fo r a w om an's value
I
as d e c o ra tio n , an a ttitu d e th a t n e ce ssa rily a f f e c te d his h isto rio g rap h ic a l w ork.
Second, th e re is a ric h irony in th e re v iv a l o f th e old ta le R ip Van W inkle
serv in g G arland as a sym bol o f th e m odern e ra su re o f th e p a st:
As w e cam e o u t of th e door a t elev en o 'clo ck , th e y ard , fillec
w ith th ro n g in g m o to r c ars, fo rm ed a v io len t c o n tra st to th e fa rm
w agons and K erosene la n te rn s o f th e "O n teo ra' p a rtie s o f tw e n ty
______________ y ears ago . . . . To my w ife I said, "G one is th e sim ple life o f
267
e arly days in O n teo ra. Luxury such as th is m ay be d e b ilita tin g ,1
b u t th e tim e has com e for you and m e to ta k e th e risk of sharing’
it." (N eighbors 420) ;
W hat G arland w as sh arin g in through his in v o lv em en t w ith th is p ro d u ctio n
j°f Rfo Van W inkle—w h e th e r he knew it o r n o t—w as th e sellin g o f A m erican.
'lite ra ry h isto ry as a to u ris t a ttr a c tio n . Indeed, no b e tte r ex am p le o f th e
acco m m o d atio n b e tw ee n A m erican c o m m ercial c u ltu re and A m erican literature^
I
i i
can be found th an in th e kind o f phenom enon th a t has produced M ark Twain'
ste a m b o a t rid es on th e M ississippi and John S tein b eck clam chow der in M onterey.;
G arlan d ’s se le c tio n o f R ip Van Winkle fo r his O n te o ra th e a te r in d ic a ted not
only his y earn in g fo r an A m erican lite ra ry tra d itio n b u t his w illingness to co n v ert
!that tra d itio n in to a m a rk e ta b le com m odity. And on th is sc o re G arlan d m ay
t
have in a d v e rte n tly seen to th e h e a rt o f W ashington Irving's s to ry ab o u t a'
i
c o u n te r-c u ltu ra l d ropout who u ltim a te ly is d e ftly subsum ed and proudly displayed
by th e squadrons o f th e new A m erican m id d le-class. !
O ne fin al p erso n al and h isto ric a l n o te is in o rd e r. A ll his life G arland
b a d cham pioned th e c o n ce p t o f te m p e ra n c e . Indeed, te m p e ra n c e to G arland
m e an t n o t only a b ste n tio n fro m alco h o l b u t a conscious seek in g o f th e via m edia
in a ll hum an b ehavior including sex u a lity . B ut G arland's R ip Van Winkle!
I
unq u estio n ab ly is a p lay th a t m akes a joke a b o u t in te m p e ra n c e and a t th e endj
R ip is fre e a t la s t to drink in p eace. T h at is, n o t re fo rm ed . So w as G arlandj
re c a n tin g his lo n g -stan d in g prin cip les? In p a rt th is m ay be tru e . G arlan d h ad
alw ay s been a te e to ta le r u n til he re tu rn e d to New Y ork in 1916. T h ere th e
c o m fo rts o f club life m ade it a c c e p ta b le to him to sh a re a glass o f w ine now
■
and th e n . B ut th is did n o t so m uch r e f le c t a re je c tio n o f th e v irtu e o f te m p e ra n c e
as it did th e ab sen ce o f th e psychological fe a r th a t had fo rc e d G arlan d into
te m p e ra n c e in th e firs t p la ce . To G arland te m p e ra n c e had been a response
268 ’
i
to th e deep fe a r he fe lt o v er giving in to th e an im al in him self. A t th e age:
o f six ty -sev e n G arland's p erso n al fe a rs, or a t le a s t o p p o rtu n ities fo r te m p ta tio n ,
w ere lessen ed and he could th e re fo re ta k e a drink—and allow R ip to havej
his—w ith o u t seein g it as th e firs t s te p to d e p ra v ity . j
By 1927, som e te m p e ra n c e ad v o ca te s lik e G arlan d who had been
i
in stru m e n ta l in bringing a b o u t P ro h ib itio n in 1919, began to ru e th e ir v icto ry J
The law had su cceed ed in giving rise to o rg an ized c rim e ; ra m p a n t co rru p tio n
in g o v ern m en t b ecam e a f a c t o f life in th e 1920's. T he drive to re p e a l P ro h ib itio n
I
began a lm o st as soon as it w en t in to e f fe c t, w ith G arland's s ta t e o f New York'
i
jdelivering th e d e ath blow in 1923 by rep ealin g its e n fo rc e m e n t a c t. (The
(A m endm ent would n ot be o ffic ia lly re p e ale d u n til D ecem b er 5, 1933.) G arland's
■play th e re fo re could be a ta c it ack n o w led g m en t o f a p o litic a l e rro r by th e
jtem p eran ce m o v em en t, and it is c e rta in ly an o v e rt s ta te m e n t o f to le ra n c e th a t
[a d rin k e r like R ip w ould have to be w elcom ed back in to so cie ty .
i
R ip Van W inkle is th e firs t hom eless m an in A m erican lite r a tu r e . D riven
;out o f his hom e and re tu rn in g to find it has vanished, R ip is consigned to an'
j i
jold ag e on th e fro n t porch o f th e village h o te l. B ut in th is v ery hom elessness;
he has ach iev ed an id e n tity . Indeed, he has earn ed th e position and th e rig h t,
as it is p u t a t th e end o f G arland's play, "to s e t m y self dow n, [and] te ll my
s to rie s . . . to a ll th o se who have p a tie n c e to liste n to m y w onderful dream
on th e C atsk ills." In th is la s t play, as in his firs t, H am lin G arland w as w ritin g
his auto b io g rap h y .
A N o t e o n t h e T e x t
The so u rce o f th is p re se n t c le a r te x t ed itio n o f G arlan d 's R ip Van Winkle
is th e carb o n ty p e sc rip t o f 62 le av e s in th e H am lin G arland P a p e rs (#210b). This:
m an u scrip t w as ty p ed by G arland's d au g h ter M ary Isabel and is e x cep tio n ally
269
clea n , b earin g no su b sta n tiv e revisions in G arlan d ’s hand. C a re has been ta k e r
to p re se n t th e body o f th e te x t p re c ise ly as w ritte n , though som e e m en d atio n s
o f fo rm a t and a c c id e n ta ls have been m ade. Such em en d atio n s include: j
|l. F o rm a t |
! In a c c o rd a n c e w ith th e c u rre n t co n v en tio n s o f publishing play te x ts ,
a ll c h a ra c te r cues have been expanded and c a p ita liz e d and a ll s ta g e d ire c tio n s1
have been tr e a te d as c o m p le te se n te n c e s w ithin p a re n th e se s. G arlan d h im self
d o u b le-u n d erlin ed m ost o f th e c h a ra c te r cues by hand, p erh ap s in d ic a tin g th e se
cues should be c a p ita liz e d . So, fo r ex am p le, w h at ap p ears in th e so u rce do cu m en t
'as:
I
i C laus—(advancing from tab le) C om e, w e h av e e m p tie d our cup; '
J i
has been a lte re d to:
I
|
! CLAUSEN. (A dvancing from ta b le .) C o m e, w e have em p tied our cup;
! All such changes have been m ade sile n tly w ith o u t being re c o rd e d in th e
a p p a ra tu s follow ing th is te x t. Som e few a lte ra tio n s req u irin g sp e c ia l or e x te n siv e ;
I |
in te rv e n tio n have been re c o rd ed in th e a p p a ra tu s. j
2. Spelling '
M ary Isabel w as indeed G arland's d a u g h te r in co n tinuing his many;
m isspellings. H er spellings and h ab its o f in scrip tio n have g en erally b een re ta in e d
fo r tw o reaso n s: 1) As a m a tte r o f e d ito ria l in te re s t, th e re is so m e v alue in
m aking M ary Isabel's sp ellin g and in scrip tio n re a d ily av ailab le sin ce she ty p ed
■most o f h e r fa th e r's m an u scrip ts a f te r _ A Son o f th e M iddle B order (1917). 2)j
I I
jWith a w ork like R ip Van W inkle th a t em ploys e arly n in e te e n th c e n tu ry and!
re g io n a l d ia le c t, th e re is alw ays a q u estio n a s to w h eth er a "m isspelling" isi
«
in ten d ed . Thus c e rta in spellings like "oblidged" and "induldged" have been|
re ta in e d . >
270]
Spellings th a t a p p e a r to be obvious ty p o g rap h ical e rro rs have been
c o rre c te d . In a few o th e r case s, spelling has b een m ade c o n siste n t if th e sam e
w ord has been sp elled d iffe re n t w ays in th e d o cu m en t. All em en d atio n s o f spelling
have been re c o rd ed in th e a p p aratu s.
3. P u n c tu a tio n
The g ra m m a r and p u n c tu atio n o f th e so u rce d o cu m en t have been re ta in e d ,
including th e m any fa ilu re s to use possessive ap o stro p h es—ag ain probably
G arland's leg acy to his d a u g h te r. W here th e very few em en d atio n s in a c c id e n ta ls
have been m ade to p re se rv e th e sense, th ey a re re c o rd e d in th e a p p aratu s. !
One a sp e c t o f m ech an ics has been sile n tly em ended th ro u g h o u t. In th e
Ity p escrip t, th e fir s t w ord follow ing an in te rje c tio n or e x cla m a tio n is ra re ly
c a p ita liz e d . In such c ases th e w ord has b een c a p ita liz e d to em p h asize w hat
is p ro p erly th e s ta r t of a new se n te n c e . Thus:
i
Fie upon you, K nickerbocker! you scan d alo u s m an
now becom es: ^
l ;
F ie upon you, K nickerbocker! You scan d alo u s m an j
T here is a p age m issing (p. 61 o f 64) in th e so u rce d o cu m en t, b u t th e
I
w an t o f it does little to im p air th e sense o f w h at is happening. It is lik ely th a t
th e m issing page follow s th e K err version in w hich K n ick erb o ck er co n firm s
i
R ip's id e n tity by giving him a drink. In th is te x t th e m issing page is in d ic a ted
by ellipses.
This so u rce d o cu m en t is in very good co n d itio n , probably ow ing to its
being th e carbon copy k e p t for s a fe ty . The o rig in al copy w as lik ely used as
th e p ro m p t copy, b ut it is n ot e x ta n t. The play has n o t been published, b u t
j
it is based clo sely on th e old K err version w hich w as published but is exceed in g ly
ra re . The G arland version w as co m p ared to th e L e n fe ste y 's E dition o f th e K err
271
play a t th e U n iv ersity o f P ennsylvania, as w ell as to a ty p e sc rip t copy o f th e
published K err play a t th e U n iv ersity of W ashington. P a rt o f th e v alu e o f th is
te x t lies in m aking m ore a v ailab le w h at in la rg e m easu re w as th e R ip Van W inkle
th a t held th e s ta g e in th e p erio d 1830-50.
B ibliographical D escrip tio n
A fo rm a l b ib lio g rap h ical d e sc rip tio n o f th is d o cu m en t a p p e a rs in C hapter,
Ten along w ith d e scrip tio n s o f a ll o th e r e x ta n t G arland p lay m an u scrip ts.
i
272
R IP VAN WINKLE
i
I
A C T I. |
SCENE I.
(A stra g g lin g villag e w ith a sm all house o f E n te rta in m e n t b e arin g
I
a sign w ith th e n am e o f G eo rg e th e T hird, w hose n am e is u n d e rw ritte n .1
I
The house is on th e le f t, in th e fro n t o f w hich a ru stic ta b le and th re e
c h airs. VEDDER, KNICKERBOCKER and RORY d isco v ered a t ta b le
5 drinking and sm oking.)
i
i SOLO AND CHORUS.
I
In n a tiv e land w h ere flow s th e R hine,
In in fan cy w e cu lled th e vine;
And though we to ile d w ith p a tie n t c are,
iIO B ut poor and sc a n ty w as o u r fa re ;
By p e tty d esp o ts reig n ed ;
T ill, te m p tin g w aves w ith anxious to il,
; We lan d ed on C olum bia’s so il
1 And e v ery bliss a tta in e d .
15 We saw no p a lac e re a r its h ead ,
I To sh am e th e m eaness o f o u r shed;
I And co m p eten c e a g en ero u s soil
R ew ard s us though we slig h tly to il.
F or e v e r blessed be th e hour
20 The w an d erer lan d ed on th is sh ore;
F or e v e r b lessed be th e hour
We re a c h e d C olum bia's happy shore!
(A t th e fin ale o f th e song CLAUSEN and d iv ers m ale and
fe m a le VILLAGERS e n te r and join in th e la st lines.)
25 R O RY . So, lads and lasses;—d ay ’s w ork being ended, you a re now
p rep arin g fo r re s t, to re c ru it y o u rselv es fo r th e lab o u r o f to -m o rro w .
(R ising.) Y et it w on’t be a t a ll p ro p e r to pass m y house, w ith o u t your
evening cup—bless you, a dram does a w orld o f good. (A side.) Always;
an eye to business; I’ve a keen look o u t fo r cu sto m ers.
2731
!
CLAUSEN. Why, ho n est R ory; t'w a s fo r th a t v ery purpose wej
cam e h ith e r: th e re fo re b e stir y o u rself; fo r w e're going to have o u r evening
d an ce and th e n w e're o ff.
R O RY . Y e sh an t be d e ta in e d a m in u te, neighbors—alw ays an1
e y e to business! (H asten s in to th e house. VEDDER and K NICKERBOCKER
rise.) 1
VEDDER. N eighbor C lausen, on yo u r w ay h ith e r, saw you our
frien d R ip Van W inkle? We have been w aitin g fo r him an hour, and w hen
th e re 's a cup o f good liquor to be sh ared , 'tis a w onder he should be th e
la s t a t a m e rry m eetin g —tis q u ite o u t o f his w ay—a th irs ty soul!
CLAUSEN. No; w e have b een husking—a ll th e folks w ere su rp rised
a t R ip's ab sen ce; sin ce he seldom su ffe rs a jo llific a tio n to go by him .
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. T ruly, th e m an who tu rn s up his nose a t good
liquor is e ith e r m ad or stu p id , as w e D u tch m en have it, and as R ory has
it in p a rtic u la r; now I do n o t. (D rinking.) T h e re fo re I can be n e ith e r
one n o r th e o th e r—b u t c u t no jokes on frien d R ip; re c o lle c t I’m to be
a m em ber o f his fam ily , and any in su lt o ffe re d to him I ta k e in sin g u lar
n u m b e r--it to u c h es my honour, and s a tis fa c tio n m ust be th e w ord, as
F ren ch m en have it.
CLAUSEN. Well said, D om inie! B ut as to Van W inkle, w e have!
j
seen noth in g o f him sin ce m orning, and th e n he w as stra y in g a cro ss thej
m ountain w ith his gun on his shoulder, as u sual. R eally , w ith o u t wishing!
to sp eak ill o f an y one, R ip is one o f th e la z ie s t, g o o d -te m p e re d , idle,
drunken, c a re le ss, b e st-h e a rte d fello w s th a t e v e r lived—n ev er doing
a hand's tu rn fo r h im self, b u t fo r o th e rs lab o u rin g w illingly from m orn
to n ig h t, and as fo r liquor— j
(RORY re e n te rs w ith jug and cans.) j
I
R O R Y . Eh! Who calls fo r liquor! No callin g tw ic e w ith m e. A lw ays
an eye for business! j
CLAUSEN. No one called fo r liq u o r; w e w ere b u t talk in g o f the^
failings o f o u r frien d R ip. You know how fond he is o f a little drop. ;
R O RY . Like him all th e b e tte r fo r it. (A side.) G ets boozy fiv e ’
tim e s w eekly; alw ays an ey e to business. B ut w h at do you th in k of his'
w ife? T h ere's a she-devil!
GIRL. Oh! For sh am e, Rory!
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. I do m ain tain she is B eelzebub in propria
p ersona; if she w as m y w ife I'd serv e h e r as English husbands do when
ta c k le d to a te rm a g e n t.
GIRL. And p ray , w h at do English husbands do?
CLAUSEN. A ye, le t's know w h at th e English husbands do.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. C lap a h a lte r round th e ir m a te 's n eck and
sell h e r to th e b e st bidder: th a t is, if one can be caught! Egad, D am e
Van W inkle w ouldn't have a single bidding, did th e folks know h e r as well'
as I do.
GIRL. F ie upon you, K n ick erb o ck er ! You scan d alo u s m an—a 1
p re tty co m p lim en t to our sex!
CLAUSEN. (A dvancing from ta b le .) C om e, w e have em p tied '
our cup; so now for a d an ce and th en good ev ening to you, neighbors.
(M usic and d an ce, and th e n ex eu n t CLAUSEN and
VILLAGERS.)
VEDDER. So, K nick erb o ck er, you a re re a lly d e term in e d to m arry,
I
R ip's s is te r—th e p r e tty A lice! j
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Y es: d e te rm in e d to be a p riso n er in H ym en’s
chains—as lo v ers have it. I’ve got R ip's c o n sen t, I h av e g o t h e r co n sen t,
I
I
and my own co n sen t. |
VEDDER. B ut have you th e D am e’s co n sen t? T h a t's th e grand
q u estio n . j
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. T h ere I'm dished and done up brow n! C onfound
h e r, she's alw ays p ra tin g o f th e g re a tn e ss o f h er fam ily , and th a t should
a c e rta in re la tio n in P ennsylvania die in te s ta te , th a t sh e'll be rich as
a Jew —would you b eliev e it, she calls m e a long, scrag g ly , m o n g rel-b red ,
o u tlan d ish an im al, and th a t I look like tw o d e al board s g lued to g e th e r!
She says I h a v en 't m eans o f earn in g a livelihood—now h av en 't I b eeh
sch o o lm aste r—k e p t a sem in ary fo r young g en tlem en ? !
I
VEDDER. T rue: y e t re c o lle c t, you have lo st a ll your sch o lars,
i
fo r in ste ad o f te a c h in g th em all th e ir p ro p er lan g u ag e, you v ersed th em
in h a lf English, h a lf D utch.
I
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T h ere's no o ccasio n rem in d in g a m an of his
m isfo rtu n es. Y aw , M ynheer: I have been u n fo rtu n a te and given up
sch o ol-keeping, b u t I have been ju s t eng ag ed as head c le rk to SquireJ
D e rrick Van Slous—th e re 's p ro m o tio n fo r you, as th e arm y h ave it, and
eg ad , th e re a re few fa m ilie s now th a t w ouldn't be proud o f Mr
K nick erb o ck er's a llia n ce .
VEDDER. 'G ad, h e re com es A lice, and w ith h e r R ip's d au g h ter
and nephew —a f te r all, R ip's a g o o d -h e a rte d fello w , fo r on his b ro th e r's
d e ath he to o k th e boy and, sp ite o f m isfo rtu n es, has b een a second fa th e r
i
to him . I
110
115
120
I
i
1 2 5
130
276!
i
(VEDDER AND K N ICK ERBO CK ER r e tir e to ta b le . E n te r
ALICE w ith G U STA FFE and LOW ENNA.)
ALICE. C om e along, lo ite re rs! Woe b e tid e us w hen w e g e t hom e
fo r having ta rrie d so long! W hat w ill th e D am e say? j
G U STA FFE. W ell, A lice, and is th a t our fa u lt? You have beenj
up and down th e lane a dozen tim e s looking fo r th e sch o o lm aste r, and.
i
i
read y to cry your ey es o u t b ecau se you co u ld n 't see him .
ALICE. Hold your tongue, sir, and d on't be so p e rt—its no such>
th in g I te ll you.
G U STAFFE. Oh I know b e tte r; b ecau se you to ld m e to ta k e
Low enna to th e m ill, w hilst you cro ssed th e field and knocked a t his
i
m o th er's c o tte g e : you know you w as jealo u s, fe a rin g h e had gone to!
c o u rt th e m iller's d au g h ter.
ALICE. How do you know th a t, my little p e rt one?
LOWENNA. Oh! We p eep ed th ro u g h th e h ed g e, and saw you, and
seein g is believing. Oh, you w as m on stro u s jealo u s, on finding he w asn't
a t hom e.
ALICE. Jea lo u s, indeed! I jealous! No, I n e v er w ish to se e his!
i
i
ugly fa c e again!
I
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. (A dvancing.) Say n o t so, sw e e t blossomj
o f th e valley, fo r in th a t c ase I shall shoot m y self in d esp air; fo r, whatj
is life w ith o u t you?
ALICE. Shoot yourself! D on't do th a t! F o r th en your g h ost mightj
h a u n t me!
GUSTA FFE. And I'm su re you w ould sooner have him th a n his(
f
g h o st, w ouldn't you, A lice?
1 3 5
140
1 4 5
150
1 5 5
277j
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T h at boy has w it!—No w onder; J. ta u g h t him!
B ut A lice, sw e e t A lice, c a n 't I com e and see you fo r h alf an hour th is
evening, w hen th e old folks a re o u t o f th e w ay?
I
ALICE. N ot fo r th e w orld; w as D am e Van W inkle to find you
i
in h e r house, I d o n 't know w h at would be th e consequence. |
LOWENNA. A lice, don't you know m o th er alw ays goes o u t for!
an hour in th e evening, to se e h e r neighbor D am e W rigrim ?
G U STA FFE. Oh y es; and th e y do say D am e W rigrim o fte n g e ts
fuddled, and I fe a r A unty w ill g e t in to th e sam e n au g h ty trick s! !
LOW ENNA. Now w as you to com e and throw som e g ra v e l a t thej
w indow , th e re ’s no know ing but you m ight se e A lice.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T h at's an uncom m on c lev e r little g irl, though.
I d idn't te a c h h er; b u t as fo r D am e Van W inkle, I m ean to tu rn o v er a
new le a f w ith h er; th e n ex t tim e we m e e t I m ean to pluck up courage,:
and say to h e r—
DAME. (W ithout.) Why A lice! A lice! W here a re you, w ench!5
Odds boddikins and pins! B ut you sh all h av e it w hen I c a tc h you! \
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T h ere she is! H aven't a n o th er w ord to say!
fo r m y self—D um bfoundered a t h e r fir s t clack . \
i
ALICE. Y es, tis D am e Van W inkle!
CH ILD REN . R un, A lice run!
(ALICE, GUSTAFFE and LOWENNA run o ff R.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER L.)
t
R O R Y . (A dvancing from ta b le w ith VEDDER.) Egad! T he D am e's
to ngue is a p e rfe c t sca re cro w .
278!
I
VEDDER. The sound o f h e r v o ice s e ts th e m running ju s t as if
she w as one o f th e m ountain sp irits, o f whom w e h e a r such ta lk —b u t
160 w h ere th e d eu ce can R ip be all th is w hile?
(RIP is h eard singing w ith o u t.) ;
R O RY . T alk o f th e dev il and his im p ap p ears! ;
(RIP e n te rs rig h t w ith gun and gam e bag, singing. HeJ
ad v an ces c a re le ssly as RO RY and VEDDER r e tir e to ta b le and drink.)
165 R IP. R ip, R ip, w h at w ill you m ake o f it now? Thou a r t a sad
i
dog and th a t's th e tru th o n 't. T h at th o u a r t idle th e re is no denying,'
and unlucky in e v e ry th in g you a tte m p t is a s till m o re d ep lo rab le fact!|
Now did I s t a r t o ff th is m orning w ith fu ll d e te rm in a tio n o f being
in d u strio u s, and fillin g my bag w ith g am e, to sell a t to m o rro w 's m a rk e t.
170 On th e ro ad to th e fo re s t who should I m e e t b u t Van B ry an t, th e one
ey ed se rg e a n t, who in sisted on my having a glass w ith him ; b u t plague:
| ta k e it, w e drank h a lf a dozen a p e ic e —tw as all o u t o f pure good n ature;,
fo r I had n o t done so th e se rg e a n t would have been so drunk th a t he couldl
i
n o t have seen o u t o f his o th e r eye, and th en who knows if e v e r he couldl
I
175 have found his w ay hom e. W ell, o ff I s ta r ts again, and who should I stu m b le
o v er b u t old D am e G riskin, carry in g a la rg e b a sk e t o f provisions; and
I
I
I couldn't do less th a n help h e r hom e w ith h e r load, poor soul! She to o
in v ite d me to drink a little glass: tru ly though I only to o m ed o u t half!
a b o ttle , and th e old w om an drank no m ore th a n m y self, y e t she g o t so
180 to p heavy th a t I w as oblidged to tu c k h er up in bed, b e fo re ta k in g my;
i
le a v e —th e n aw ay I w en t to th e m ountains, and though I saw double, d e u c e 1
a single bird could I shoot! A lto g e th e r, m ethinks I've m ade a p re tty days)
w ork o f it; and w ith th e row and th e rum pus th a t m ay be e x p e c te d from!
279]
my am iab le rib a t hom e, I shall finish th e evening in th e u su al way! R eally
I
185 I m ust m ake an a lte ra tio n in things—I m ust re fo rm nor drink any more^
saving w hen I'm dry. Y es, w as anybody now to o ffe r m e a cup o f liquor]
I'd say to him , in a p o lite m an n er,—
(VEDDER who has ad v an ced , hands RIP a horn.) ]
—h e re 's your good h e a lth , and your fam ily's good h e a lth s, and
190 m ay you all liv e long and p ro sp er. (D rinks.)
VEDDER. Why, neighbor, w e fe a re d from your long s ta y that,
som e o f th e elfin goblins o f th e m ountains had got hold o f you; w here
I
th e ta rn a tio n h ave you been, frien d Van W inkle? 1
R IP. Oh, v ery busy; had a h ard days w ork o f i t —n o th in g slipped
195 th ro u g h my fin g ers th a t w ere com e a ta b le .
R O R Y . (A dvancing on rig h t o f R IP.) B ut th ey 'v e slipped thro u g h
your bag, fo r tis full o f em p tin ess. (E xam ining bag.)
R IP. C u t no jokes on my bag, or I shall give you th e sack , nor
| ta k e a n o th e r glass a t your house. Why, I'm th e b est c u sto m er you e v er
I
200 cau g h t—egad, its enough to be b u llied by one's w ife a t h o m e, w ith o u t1
1
having ev ery pum pkin c u ttin g cap ers a t m y expense a b ro ad —b u t it's all:
o v er; I'll n ev er drink ag ain . j
VEDDER. (Fills R ip's cup.) T ill y o u're dry, as you re m a rk e d . j
R IP. H ere's your good h e a lth , and your fam ily 's good h e a lth s ,’
205 and m ay you all liv e long and p ro sp er. (D rinks.)
VEDDER. And now , frien d R ip, s it down and sm oke a pipe and
m ake y o u rself c o m fo rta b le .
R O R Y . A ye, p rith e e do, n eighbor R ip. (A side.) A lw ays an eye
to business!
210
215
1220
225
230
" " 280|
j
R IP. Now d o n t te m p t me! My m ind's m ade up to be so b er and
in d u strio u s fo r th e fu tu re ; fo r though disow ned by rich re la tio n s whd
do allow enough to k eep th e w olf from th e door, y e t it behooves a m an
I
o f fam ily to look a f te r his a ffa irs, and m an ag e— ;
VEDDER. Ah, could you but c o n triv e to m anage your w ife—
|
R IP. Do w h at? Phoo, nonsense! Hold your ton g u e—th e m an's
m ad. C an you fly to th e m oon on a p ap er k ite ; can you drink up th e w a te rs
o f th e Hudson or p o c k et one o f th e C a tsk ill m ountains; can you p re v e n t
R ory th e re from c h risten in g his liquor? Do th e se , and you w ill be able
to m anage my rib; b u t be it as it w ill I'll drink no m o re. (C rosses R.) :
VEDDER. C om e, one d rau g h t fo r frien d sh ip . (P re se n tin g it.) J
R IP. I w ont to u ch it—co n scien ce fo rb id s.
R O RY . C om e, lay hold. (RIP sh ak es head.)
VEDDER. W ell, if you w ont, I c a n t help it. (R e tire s to ta b le .)
R IP. T h ere's boldness! I've conquored te m p ta tio n . B ravo reso lu tio n !
Egad, re so lu tio n you shall have a glass fo r th is. |
. 1
R O R Y . H ere's a glass a t your se rv ic e —and as fo r th e c o n te n ts'
i
I'll w a rra n t it genuine and no m istak e. |
R IP. H ere's your good h ealth and your fam ily 's good h e alth and
m ay you all liv e long and pro sp er. (S its and drinks.)
VEDDER. I say , R ip, in your m o u n tain ram b les did you e v e r light,
on any o f th e q u eer beings who, tis said , h au n t th e se p a rts —th e s p irits <
o f th e C atsk ill?
R IP. N ot I; and th a ts a w onder—fo r I'm g en erally fo rtu n a te inj
fallin g in w ith sp irits—guess I am .
281
235 R O RY . (H anding him a cup.) A ye, th a t you are! A lw ays an eye
to business. C om e, q u a ff, lik e as you a re —a jo lly boy.
R IP. T hank you, R ory. H ere's your good h e a lth and your fam ily's
good h e a lth , and m ay you a ll liv e long and p ro sp er. C e rta in ly , th e re
i
a re m any stra n g e s to rie s to ld ab o u t th e se m o u n tain s. Old D addy H udson's
240 g host th e y say ram b les am o n g st th e m . Do you know an y th in g ab o u t th e m ,1
N icholas V edder? B ut spin your yarn sh o rt.
j
VEDDER. Why y es, R ip, fo r c e rta in ; m y g re a t-g ra n d fa th e r told
my g ra n d fa th e r, and my g ra n d fa th e r to ld my fa th e r, and my fa th e r to ld
m e a sto ry a b o u t th e se m ountains th a t is enough to frig h te n any b u t
I
i 2 4 5 a p ig -h ead ed D u tch m an .
I
< i
j R IP. You shall te ll us th e sto ry : m e an tim e, h e re 's to your
! I
g ra n d fa th e r's g randson's good h e alth , and m ay you all liv e long and p ro sp er. !
VEDDER. Now fo r my g re a t g ra n d fa th e r's sto ry : You m ust know
i th a t som e tw o or th re e hundred y ears ago—
250 R IP. How! Two o r th re e hundred y e ars ago! Oh w ell! 'spose sto rie s
i
lose n o th in g by carry in g : tw o o r th re e hundred y ears you say ? I
VEDDER. Y es, ab o u t th a t tim e p a st a fam o u s p ira te and sm uggler
in fe ste d th e H udson; he c a rrie d his d e p re d atio n s to an unm en tio n ab le
|
e x te n t—a very sea sa rp e n t b u t—and being a t len g th pursued by a su p erio r
255 fo rc e , w ith whom he w as aw are th a t it w as vain to co n ten d , he sought]
i
re fu g e w ith his crew in th e m ountains o f th e C atsk ill, w h ere, in som e,
I
s e c re t cav ern th e y co n cealed th e ir ill-g o tte n plunder. G old w as p len ty
b u t provisions soon ran sc a n t. T hey w ere a t th e ir w it's ends w hen, tis
said , th is ta rn a l p ira te sold h im self to th e ev il one on co n d itio n of being|
260 allow ed to re v isit th e se m ountains o nce e v ery f if ty y e a rs, to play theirj
265
2 7 0
i
i 2 7 5
2 8 0
2 8 5
290
se v e ra l g am es and gam bols as th e y w ere w ont to do w hen th e y w ere
i
alive! Now, w hen my g re a t g ra n d fa th e r—so he to ld his son and so his
son to ld m e—m y g re a t g ra n d fa th e r chancing to pop upon th em
in a d v e rte n tly —no wish o f his, I guess—a t one o f th e ir se m i-c e n tu ry 1
|
v isita tio n s, th a t he w as so sc a re d as sc a rc e ly to know w h e th e r he stood
on his h ead or his h eels. The la tte r how ever serv ed b e tte r th a n th e form er;'
fo r in his frig h t he tu m b led in to a sw am p, and his m outh g o t so stu ffe d
w ith m ud th a t he w as unable to sp eak w ith an audible v oice during th e
re m a in d er o f his life .
R IP. W hat a cram m er! Egad! It w an ts w ashing down though.—
RO RY . R ip, give us a sta v e fo r n ig h t is draw ing on; and should
your w ife be as usual lik e th e n ig h t haw k on th e w ing, w e should soon
have to m ake a c le a ra n c e .
R IP. G uess as how we should sca m p e r lik e your g re a t g ra n d fath er.,
W ell-talking o f w ives, you sh all h e a r R ip Van W inkle's opinion o f th em
b e fo re and a f te r m atrim o n y .
Now lis t my frien d s to cau tio n 's v oice,
E re th e m a rria g e knot you tie ;
The d eu ce it is w ith shrew to splive
T h ere's no one can deny.
i
ALL. T h ere's none w ill th a t deny;
No—none w ill th a t deny. 1
R IP. M aids a re syrens w hilst th e y 're single— i
S ca rc e a w ord th e ir tongues can try ; :
B ut w hen m arried th e y can jin g le— !
W hat husband can deny? !
ALL. Oh, no one w ill deny, deny; !
We w ont th a t tru th deny. !
R IP. And y e t th e re is a charm a b o u t th e m
Though a t tim e s th e y sp eak so high;
We c a n 't do w ith th e m nor w ith o u t th e m ,
T h ere's nobody can deny. j
295
300
305
310
315
2831
ALL. T h a t nobody can deny, deny,
No—nobody can deny. I
I
DAME. (W ithout.) I h eard , you la z y drunken v arm en t! Odds
i
boddikins and pins b u t I'll s tr e tc h your e a rs w hen I g e t hold of them ! i
i
R IP. The devil's le t loose his imp! I say, V edder, w hat a happy
th in g it would be w ere my dam e to tu m b le in to a bog and g e t to n g u e
tie d lik e yo u r g re a t g ra n d fa th e r—b u t ta k e c a re or you'll a ll nap.
(H urry. All rise . R IP sn a tc h e s b o ttle and craw ls under
ta b le . E n ter th e DAME in a ra g e from th e rig h t.)
DAME. W here is th is w icked husband o f m ine? Odds boddikins
and pins I h e ard his voice! You've hid him som ew here! You ought to
be ash am ed of yo u rselv es to inveigle a husband from a te n d e r loving
spouse; b u t I'm put upon by a ll b ecau se th e y know th e m ildness o f my
te m p e r. (They laugh.) Odds boddikins and cu rling irons, but som e o f
you sh all laugh th e o th e r sides o f your m ouths fo r th is e ffro n te ry . I'll
s c ra tc h , I'll pull your p a te s fo r you!
(She ch ases th em round. In th e scu ffle th e ta b le is u p set
and R IP is d isco v ered w ith th e b o ttle to his lips. DAME se iz e s him by(
I
th e e a r and brings him fo rw ard .)
Oh! You R ip o f a ll Rips! W hat have you to say fo r y o u rself, eh?
RIP. H ere's your good h e alth and m ay you live long and p ro sp er.
(A side.) H er h e a lth indeed! Lord fo rg iv e m e fo r lying! (D rinks.)
DAME. I'm cool—th a t is to say n o t v ery h o t; b u t th e m ild est tem p erj
in th e w orld would be in a passion a t such tr e a tm e n t. G et h o m e, youj
drunken m o n ste r, or I sh an t be able to k eep my hands o ff you! i
I
(She d rives him o ff.) j
320
325
!
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J
330
i
i
335
340
284
i
SCENE n .
A CHAM BER IN THE HOUSE OF SH ERIFF. |
i
(Scene play ed b e fo re c u rta in .) ;
(
(E n ter DERRICK and K N ICK ERBO CK ER.) '
D ER R IC K . No, sir, le t th e se p ap ers be copied im m e d ia te ly and
see th a t th e d e sp a tc h es a re fo rw ard ed to New York; be c a re fu l of m istak es,
fo r I’m a m an o f business and few w ords. This done, yo u r fu rth e r
a tte n d e n c e fo r th e ev ening can be d ispensed w ith.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. E v ery th in g shall be e x e c u te d to your honor's
s a tisfa c tio n ; fo r in th is business I'm q u ite a t hom e, as th e English have it.
D ERRICK . Y es, I u n d erstan d you was brought up in England.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. When b u t a boy I w as ta k en th ith e r fronv
Y arm any by my fa th e r and brought up a t one o f th e ir p rin cip al co lleg es—a
c h a rity school.
D ERRICK . A c h a rity school!
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. I p ick ed up som e u seful le arn in g ; and if;
flogging could have added to my p ro ficie n c y , fo r th e re w as no w an t o f
th a t, I should have been a t th e h ead o f th e school; b u t such w as n o t my!
d estin y —it w as to ra m b le , sir—to find my w ay to th is land o f happiness,
i
w hich w as in th e c a p a c ity o f c lerk to a tra d e r who in ten d ed opening
a sto re in th is p la ce , b ut w hose view w ere c u t o ff during th e voyage*
by a sudden g ale w hich cap sized th e ship and only le f t us tim e to effect-
I
a landing in th e long b o a t, w ith such a rtic le s as w e had on our back s. j
D ER R IC K . R a th e r an om inous co m m en cem en t, it m ust be'
<
I
co n fessed .
285
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Lord bless you, sir, I have been c o n sta n tly
I
used to d isap p o in tm en ts, th e re fo re n o th in g ch agrins m e. j
D ERRICK . It a p p ea rs so from th e re p o rts th a t have re a c h e d m e.
I
W ell, be b ut fa ith fu l to your duty and hope fo r a change in your fo rtu n e s.’
You m ay be assu red o f my en d eav o rs fo r your p ro m o tio n . 1
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Thanks, Mr B u rg o m aster. (A side.) See how
it is—th e re w ill be good luck for m e in th e long run; yes, I sh all be a
g re a t m an a f te r a ll, m a rry my little A lice and—b u t I m ust finish my
ta sk and th en to my ap p o in tm e n t. D uty firs t, love a fte rw a rd s. (E xit.)
D ERRICK . (A lone.) Should th e p re se n t a p p lic atio n fa il I am a
ru in ed m an; all m y sp ecu latio n s w ill be fru s tra te d and m y d u p lic ity
exposed: yes, th e d issip atio n o f my son m ust in ev itab ly prove his ru in
a s w ell as m ine. To supple his w ants th e public m oney has b een em ployed
and if unable to re p la c e it, heaven knows w h at m ay be th e co n seq u en ce.
B ut my son is now p laced w ith an ab le a d v o c a te in New Y ork, and should
he pursue th e rig h t p a th , th e re m ay be s till hope o f his re fo rm a tio n .
HERM AN. (W ithout.) My fa th e r, you say , is th is w ay?
D ERRICK . W hat voice is th a t? My son! W hat can h av e re c a lle d
him th u s suddenly! Som e new m isad v en tu re? Oh my forboding thoughts!,
I
(HERMAN e n te r.) H erm an, w hat brings you back? A re all my c a u tio n s1
th u s lig h tly re g a rd ed th a t th e y can ta k e no hold upon your co n d u ct? j
HERM AN. You have good cau se fo r w arm th , sir; b u t le a rn th e
reaso n o f my diso b ed ien ce e re you condem n. B usiness o f im p o rtan c e
had urg ed m e h ith e r—such as co n cern s us both m ost in tim a te ly . >
D ERRICK . Som e fresh e x tra v a g a n c e , no doubt, to d rain m y little ;
le f t and s e t a h o st o f c re d ito rs loose upon m e. j
HERM AN. N ot so sir; b u t th e re v e rse . L ist! You know ourj
neighbor, Rip Van Winkle! i
D ERRICK . Know him ? A ye—his idleness is p ro v erb ial. You havej
i
good cau se to re c o lle c t him to o , sin ce tw a s by his co u rag e your life was
p re serv e d w hen a tta c k e d by th e fam ish ed w olf.
HERM AN. H e has a d a u g h te r s c a rc e ly seven y e ars old; now th e
a tto rn e y whom I serv e has b een em ployed to draw up th e w ill and s e ttle
th e a ffa irs o f th e g irl's a u n t, w ho, fo r som e slig h t o ffe re d by Van W inkle,
has long sin ce d iscard ed th e fam ily . A t th e lady's d e a th th e w hole of
h e r im m ense w ealth in cash and land, is th e in h e rita n c e o f th is g irl who
is, a t th is m om en t, th e ric h e st p resu m p tiv e h eiress in th e land. '
!
D ERRICK . W hat co n n ectio n can Van W inkle's fo rtu n e have w ith
ours? 1
HERM AN. L isten! W ere it possible to p ro cu re his sig n a tu re to
a c o n tra c t th a t his d a u g h ter w hen o f a g e, should be m a rrie d to m e, on
th is se c u rity m oney m ight be ra ised by us to any am o u n t. Now, my good
fa th e r, am I co m p rehensible?
D ERRICK . T ruly, th is seem s no visionary d ream lik e th o se in;
i
w hich, w ith fa ta l p e rtin a c ity you have so o ft induldged; and on re c o lle c tio n
th e re n t o f his te n e m e n t is in a rre a r ; tw ill o ffe r fa v o ra b le opportunityj
fo r my callin g and sounding him —th e c o n tra c t m ust be your c a re . j
HERM AN. Tis a lre ad y p re p a re d and lack s only his sig n a tu re .
i
L aw yers who w ould do ju s tic e to th e ir c lie n ts m ust n o t pause a t:
i
co n scien ce—tis e n tire ly o u t o f th e q u estio n w hen th e ir ow n in te r e s t is
co n cern ed .
2 8 7
D ER R IC K . H erm an, I like n o t th is b la ck -leg m anner o f p ro ceed in g
395 y e t it augurs th a t th o u w ilt be no p e ttifo g g e r. I'll to Van W inkle s tra ig h t,
i
and though n o t le g alize d to a c t, y e t in th is c ase I can do w ork w hich
ev ery ho n est law y er would sco rn . (E xit.)
I
HERM AN. T ru e; th e h o n est la w y er liv es by his re p u ta tio n and
i
th e re fo re pauses to u n d e rta k e a c ase he knows unjust; b u t how e a sily
'400 a re som e duped! C an my fa th e r fo r a m o m en t suppose th a t th e ran k
!
! w eeds o f youth a re so easily u p ro o ted ? No. W hat is to be done, good
fa th e r o f m ine, but to serv e m yself? Y oung m en o f th e p re se n t ag e can n o t
live w ith o u t th e m eans o f e n te rin g in to its v a rie tie s and th is supply w ill
h e n c e fo rth en ab le m e to do so to th e fu lle s t e x te n t o f my am b itio u s
'405 w ishes. (E xit.)
i
j S C E N E in.
i INTERIOR OF R IP ’S CO TTEGE.
t
(D oor L. G lazed window o p posite R . C lo set b etw een window and
door. L arge c lo th es b ask et filled w ith linen and an arm c h air a t R . A
!
ta b le w ith pen and ink and tw o ch airs in ad v an ce o f door. P e d la r's c lo th e s 1
1
410 and cloak hanging on arm ch air. Broom lean in g ag ain st c h air. ALICEj
s ittin g in arm c h air w ith GUSTAFFE and LOWENNA on each arm .)
I
ALICE. Now, m y d e a r good ch ild ren , do go to bed fo r w hen your
m o th er re tu rn s , L ow enna, w h at a p ie ce o f w ork th e re would be should
she find you s till up.
415 G U STA FFE. D on't be in such a h u rry , A lice; I w ant to s it up and.
bid U ncle good n ig h t.
4 2 0
1425
i
430
435
4 4 0
2 8 8
LOWENNA. N ever m ind, p u t us to bed, and be su re you leav e
i
G u staffe's room door open th a t he m ay h e a r m e sing his fa v o rite song. j
ALICE. B ut w hat w ill you do, L ow enna, w hen G u sta ffe is s e n t;
to sea?
LOWENNA. T hey sh a n t send him to se a ; b u t if th e y do I'll go
w ith him .
G U STA FFE. And so you shall, and w e'll be tw o little cabin boys
to g e th e r.
ALICE. I d e c la re , th e y a re q u ite little s w e e th e a rts a lre ad y . T here,
aw ay to bed w ith you.
(R e tire s w ith ch ild ren R . E n ter K N ICKERBOCKER
cau tio u sly door L.)
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Zooks! I'm v e n tu rin g in to a tig e r's den in
q u e st o f a lam b. A ll's c le a r how ever, and could I b u t pop on little A lice
how w e would bill and coo. She com es! Lay s till, m y flu tte rin g h e art!
(ALICE e n te r R. w ith o u t observ in g K N ICK ERBO CK ER.)
ALICE. T h ere, th e re , go to sleep! Ah K n ick erb o ck er, how I love
you, sp ite o f all th e stra n g e w ays you pursue! :
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. (A side.) S ensible, su sc e p tib le soul! But!
m e rit e v e r m e e ts its reco m p en se.
ALICE. No w onder I'm fa sc in a te d ; his fig u re is so e le g a n t and,
th en his education! I n ev er se e him b u t I long to jum p in to his loving
arm s. (Turns and is cau g h t in KNICKERBOCKER'S arm s.) i
I
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. This is to o m uch fo r hum an n a tu re to s u p p o rt.|
This d e c la ra tio n is a ban q u et th a t gods m ight p riz e . B eau teo u s angel!
i
H ear m e w hilst I proclaim ! (K neels.) :
445
4 5 0
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I
4 5 5
i
I
I
I
I
460
465
‘ - - - - - - - _ ^
DAME. (W ithout.) G et along, you drunken b ru te! I
!
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. The devil! Tis D am e Van W inkle! W hat’s
!
to beco m e o f m e? !
ALICE. If you a re found h e re I'm ruined. You m u st conceal;
I
!
y o u rself. B ut w here?
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T h at's th e im p o rta n t q u estio n . Oh I’ ll hop
in to th e cupboard.
ALICE. N ot fo r th e w orld. She is su re to w an t so m eth in g o u t
o f it. H ere, h e re , g e t in to th is c lo th e s b ask et and le t m e co v er you over
w ith th e foul lin en . ,
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. It's a very foul p ie ce o f business a lto g e th e r
b u t I m u st sto m a ch it w h e th e r I w ill or no.
(She p u ts him in b a sk e t and co v ers him . E n te r DAME
dragging R IP.)
DAME. And now , sir, I’ve g o t you hom e, w h at have you to say
fo r y o u rself, I should lik e to know?
R IP. N othing, m y d arlin g , th e le a s t said is so o n est m ended and
so you sh all have a ll th e ta lk to y o u rse lf. Now ay n t th a t lib e ra l?
i
DAME. W here's a ll th e gam e you was to bring hom e? '
i
i
R IP. On th e w ing s till, w ouldn’t v e n tu re to com e w ithin my fire ;
fo r though th e y m iss my gun th e re is one th in g c e rta in I n e v e r m iss your
I
blow ing up.
DAME. My blow ing up! Odds boddikens and cu rlin g iro n s, I shall
n ev er be ab le to c o n tain m yself. W here's th e m oney to pay th e re n t,;
you oaf?
1
R IP. I d o n t know , do you? .
470
|475
4 8 0
4 8 5
490
290j
DAME. Y ou'll go to prison and th a t w ill be th e end on’t. j
R IP. C om e, no m ore q u arrelin g to n ig h t. We'll see a b o u t th e re n t
m oney in th e m orning.
DAME. Tom orrow ! Its alw ays to m o rro w w ith you. So, A lice,;
you a re s ittin g and idling as u sual. J u s t like your b ro th e r—a p recio u s
p air. (K nocking a t door.) See who is a t th e door.
(ALICE opens door. A BOY e n te rs.)
BOY. I've com e for th e b ask et th a t D am e Brody le n t you.
DAME. Odds boddikins and pins! D idn't I te ll you, R ip, to ta k e
it back to th e D am e y e ste rd a y . Go, sirra h , and a ssist A lice to tu m b le
th e se th in g s in to th e co p p er; by th is tim e it m ust be boiling.
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. (From b a sk e t.) Oh Lord! I sh all be scald ed
to d e ath .
ALICE. The boiling w ater! T he—th e —th e —boiling w ater! S urely
you d o n t th in k o f w ashing ton ig h t! Tis la te —and—and—odds, my life ,
w h at drudgery!
DAME. D rudgery, vixen! C a n 't th e y sim m er in th e b o ile r till
t
m orning? But no m a tte r; throw th em in to th e cupboard th a t th e y m ay ;
be o u t o f th e w ay and th e boy have th e b a sk e t w hich th e la zy v a rle t
n e g le c te d to re tu rn .
(ALICE and R IP ra ise th e b a sk e t w ith d iffic u lty and em ptyi
th e c o n te n ts in to th e c lo se t.)
R IP. Ecod, dam e, I guess you'll h av e a p re tty w ash, if one m a y
judge by its w eight.
495
500
i
505
5 10
515
291
DAME. T h ere now , m y boy, ta k e your b ask et; m ake my excuse
to your m o th er fo r its having been d e ta in e d so long. Tw as all through'
i
th e n e g le c t o f my v a rle t spouse. Oh you Rip!
i
i
R IP. I’m alw ays in th e m arching o rd e r, but blow m e if you said
a w ord a b o u t ta k in g hom e th e b a sk e t th a t I re m e m b er.
DAME. R e m e m b e r! You've a so ft p a te . Good n ig h t, my lad.'
(E xit.)
R IP. S oft p a te! P r e tty hard I guess, or it w ould have been fra c tu re d
long sin ce—and th a t's no m istak e.
DAME. And now , A lice, com e w ith m e th a t I m ay s a tisfy m yself
how you have desposed o f th e ch ild ren fo r in th e se m a tte rs you a re ju st
such a c ra w le r as th a t vagrum th e re —th a t te rra p in .
R IP. T errapin! Ah, D am e, I leav es you to go th e w hole hog; b u t
h e ark ee , my lovey, w ont you re tu rn th e le e tle b o ttle w hich you m anaged
to g e t from m e la s t n ight?
DAME. O dds boddikins and pins! A m an a lre ad y drunk and asking
fo r m ore liquor! You sh an t have a drop, you so t, th a t you sh all n o t. The
b o ttle indeed! N ot you, eh, faith ! (E xit DAME and ALICE R.)
I
R IP. D arn atio n ta k e m e if I d o n t th in k b u t w hat she's fin ish ed 1
i
i t h e rse lf and th a t's th e fa c t—but if n o t o u t o f my reck o n in g —and my,
nose alw ays sn iffs like a te rrie rs , tis in th e c o rn e r o f th a t cupboard herj
i
H ollands a re s e c re te d —so h ere goes to bibble. (T iptoes to c lo se t and
is rum aging fo r b o ttle , w hen he tre a d s on KNICK ERBO CK ER who ro a rs
lu stily . R IP in a larm u p sets th e dishes and glass and fallin g , rolls in to
th e m iddle o f th e ch am b e r quaking in e v e ry lim b and v o c ife ra tin g loudly.)
R IP. H elp—M urder! F ire —T hieves! D arnation! !
(K N ICK ERBO CK ER d a rts out o f th e c lo se t and in despairj
th ro w s h im self in to th e arm c h air. ALICE, e n te rin g h a stily , flings aj
cloak o v er him w hich sc re e n s him from o b serv atio n .) |
i
DAME. (E n terin g in a larm .) Odds boddikins and pins! What's;
»
th e m a tte r now? ;
R IP. (Looking around cau tio u sly .) M a tte r indeed! The dev il’s1
in th a t cupboard. Oh la! Or I’ll be sw anned.
DAME. In th e cupboard! (G oes to look—squalls.) A ll my fine,
p o rcelain d estro y ed ! M onster! Vile rap acio u s m onster! A dev il indeed
has been in th e cupboard and th a t's you!
RIP. In fo r it ag ain . M ay I be hanged if th e re w a sn 't som ebody
in th e c lo se t, though, say w h at you w ill d am e.
DAME. Tis a falsity ! Like e v ery o th e r w ord you u tte r . No one
has been in th e cupboard save y o u rself.
RIP. I'm nobody th e n , acco rd in g to your a cco u n t.
DAME. (M ourning.) The ch in a p re se n te d to m e by m y g ran d re la tio n
i
w hich I s e t such s to re on, sm ashed in to a tho u san d pieces! Tis to o m ucb
i
fo r m y w eak nerves! I shall swoon! I sh all fa in t! I
i
(Sinks in to arm c h a ir b u t s ta r ts up ag ain and scream ing!
falls into R IP's arm s. K N ICK ERBO CK ER reg ain s th e c lo se t, unseenj
i
sav e by ALICE.) j
i
DAME. H eaven have m ercy on us! T h ere w as som ebody in th a t
chair! Som ebody in th e chair!
RIP. Phoo! T h ere's noth in g in th e c h air sav e your old
i
clo ak —(Tossing it asid e.) T h at's all. ;
545
j550
}
555
i
560
565
293
DAME. I te ll you I f e lt so m eth in g . I'm c e rta in o f th e f a c t orj
m ay I n ev er go to h eav en . j
R IP. T ruly, w hat w ith th e cu p board and th e ch air one w ould think!
I
th e m ountain sp irits w ere kicking up th e ir c an tru m s h e re . j
DAME. T alking o f sp irits! I'm so a la rm e d —so a g ita te d —th a t'
A lice, p u t your hand in to m y p o ck et and you'll find a little b o ttle . 1
R IP. (A side.) A little b o ttle —oh th a t's th e p riv a te cupboard!
A lice, le t m e hold th e little b o ttle w hilst you fe tc h a glass.
(ALICE brings a glass w hich R IP fills and gives to DAME.)
H ere's your good h e a lth and your fam ily 's and m ay you liv e long
and p ro sp er. (A side.) H eaven fo rg iv e m e fo r say in g w h at is only a t to n g u es
end.
(RIP drinks from b o ttle . ALICE is lead in g KNICKERBOCKER,
o u t o f c lo se t w hen see in g som e one com ing, he e sc a p es back to his r e tr e a t.)
A LICE. (A t door.) Oh Aunt! A unt! H ere's th e b u rg o m aster com ing
up th e g ard en .
I
DAME. Odds boddikins and pins! The b u rg o m aster! W hat's to!
I
be done now? C om ing fo r th e re n t—w h at's to be done now I say? |
c
R IP. (C rossing to bedroom door.) You p u zzle m e. I'll go to bedj
I
and th in k .
i
i
DAME. (Seizing him .) You sh an t go to bed! You m ust m ake somel
fresh ex cu ses—yo u 're fam ous a t th em to m e. You have g o t in to th e hobblei
and you m ust g e t o u t o f i t as w ell as you can . I shall go and co n su lt myj
i
frien d D am e W rigrim , and A lice, should th e p ed lar w om an com e, d esire
h e r n ot to le av e any m o re o f h er rubbish h e re . (E xit L. M eets DERRICK
i
and c u rtsie s as she goes.)
570
575
580
I
I
585
t
590
595
294
D ERRICK . G ood evening, D am e.
DAME. Y our honour's se rv a n t.
R IP. (A side.) La w hat a stew Pm in! A lice, ta k e y o u rself off,
tis full tim e . Wish I w as o ff to o , w ith a ll m y h e a r t and soul!
ALICE. (A side.) D ear, dear! W hat w ill b eco m e o f my poor
I
K nick erb o ck er. (E xit.)
D ER R IC K . W ell, honest R ip, how w ags th e w orld w ith you? (Sits.)
R IP. Bad enough, sir, for though lab o rin g from m orn till night
I can m ake no ad v an ce in th e w orld—th ough m y in d u stry is p ro v erb ial
and no d isp u te.
D ER R IC K . Why, w here th e b o ttle is co n cern ed , few , I b eliev e,
can b o a st so m uch in d u stry .
R IP. Oh sir, you f la tte r m e; b u t I suppose—I guess as how, sir—you
have called co n cern in g th e re n t. (A side.) How m y h e a r t goes and com es!
Now if your honour w ill be good enough to —
D ER R IC K . To w rite th e re c e ip t—c e rta in ly .
R IP. C e rta in ly . I d id n 't e x a c tly m ean th a t—(A side.) I'm stewed^
aliv e w ith p e rsp ira tio n ; had I but a b o ttle b e fo re me I m ight m anage,
to g e t on; fo r my w it, lik e a g rin d sto n e, m ust be w e tte d b e fo re it doesj
any good.
D ERRICK . W ell, ta lk o f th e re n t a t a fu tu re p eriod—th e re is
a n o th e r a ffa ir on w hich I wish to co n su lt you. !
R IP. T ake a ch air, your honour. (A side.) It's all rig h t, by th e |
hookey. ,
f
D ER R IC K . You know my only son, w hose life you p reserv ed ?
R IP. Y es, and a w ild harum scaru m dog he is.
D ER R IC K . H e is now sta tio n e d in New Y ork, studying th e law ,
and has b ecom e a s ta id , ste a d y and p ru d en t y o u th ; now tis m y w ish thatj
he should s e ttle in th is his n a tiv e p la ce , and th a t he m arry som e ho n est
I
g irl who is a lto g e th e r u n a cq u a in te d w ith th e friv o litie s o f th e city : and
I have been th in k in g th a t in a few y e ars your d a u g h ter w ill be grow n
up and would m ake a su ita b le m a tc h fo r him . T ru e, th e re w ill be som e
t
d isp arity in th e ir ages b u t as th e y ears a re on th e side of th e husband,
so t'w ill be a ll th e b e tte r for th e w ife in having a m a tu re d p re c e p to r.
R IP. (B ew ildered.) Beg pardon, sir; b u t it s trik e s m e you a re
only c arry in g on your rig s.
D ERRICK . No, on m y honour; and to co n v in ce you th a t I'm in
e a rn e s t I have b rought w ith m e a c o n tra c t by w hich o u r o ffsp rin g , w hen
o f ag e, a re bound to in te rm a rry or fo rfe it th e ir s e v e ra l fo rtu n e s—I shall
s e ttle all m ine on H erm an, and I suppose you'll do th e sam e on L ow enna,
o f course.
R IP. Oh yes, though I’m a fra id sh e'll have som e d iffic u lty to find
o u t w here th a t 'e re fo rtu n e lays.
i
D ER R IC K . And as to th e re n t o f yo u r lo t and h a b ita tio n —why!
we sh all say noth in g a b o u t it—h e n c e fo rth you sh all liv e re n t fre e . !
i
I
R IP. Shall I! By gum s, give m e your hand and give m e th e pen.
(A side.) I've co n d u cted th is business in a m a ste rly m an n er—b u t sto p —as!
I n e v e r like to do an y th in g d isag ree a b le, so I shouldn't wish to fo rc e my!
d a u g h ter a g ain st h e r in clin atio n —th e re fo re m ust have th is proviso—th a t
it shall be in my pow er to b re a k th e a g re e m e n t, if so in clin ed , in tw e n ty
y ears and a day.
625
,630
!
I
I
I
I
635
640
645
296
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. (P eeping from c lo se t.) Oh it has been a
dism al day as w ell as n ig h t fo r me! B u t I m ust see th e upshot o f what^
th e y 're ab o u t.
D ER R IC K . W ell, sin ce tis your w ish th a t condition sh all be inserted.;
(W rites.) T h ere, tis done. (A side.) O f th a t he has no c o u n te rp a rt. Mine,;
th e do cu m en t alo n e.
R IP. (Signing.) And th e re —tis done on my p a rt. ;
D ER R IC K . (Folding up p ap er.) Now, R ip, I m ust bid you good
i
n ig h t. L et m e see you in th e m orning w hen som e plan m ay be devised
to serv e yo u r p re se n t n e c e ssitie s, and should you, on th e ro ad , look im
a t your usual h au n t—I m ean a t your frien d R ory's—you w ill fin d a bottle,
I
le f t fo r you. O nce m ore, good n ig h t, frien d Van W inkle. (A side.) T w enty
I
y e ars and a day—by th a t tim e th e cred u lo u s poor fellow w ill be slee p in g
w ith his kindred. G ood n ig h t, ag ain . (E xit.)
R IP. I'll be hanged if I can m ake h ead or ta il o n 't. T h ere's m ore
in th e m a tte r th a n I can guess a t. The f a c t is, my h ead is m uddled—so
I'll pop o u t and ta k e h a lf o f th e b o ttle he spoke o f—ju s t by w ay ofi
re c tify in g th e m . (E xit R IP. ALICE e n te rs and brings KNICKERBOCKER;
from c lo se t.) 1
ALICE. So, Mr K nick erb o ck er, you a re still h e re . !
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Y es, all th a t's le f t o f me! And now thatj
I
th e c o a st is c le a r I'll give th em leg b ail, as th e law yers have it, and if
i
e v er th e y c a tc h m e h e re ag ain —(Goes to door and re tu rn s.) Oh dear!!
Oh dear! H ere's m o th e r Van W inkle com ing back. I sh all n e v e r g e t o ut
o f th is m ess.
ALICE. It's a ll your own fa u lt. Why would you com e to n ig h t?
650
6 55
i
I
I
I
i
i
I
I
i
660
665
670
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. I sh all n ev er be ab le to com e again! Thej
cross vixen w ill ta k e c a re o f th a t if she c a tc h e s m e h ere.
ALICE. T h ere is one w ay o f avoiding h e r w ra th , slip on th e c lo th e s
i
th a t th e old p ed lar w om an brought fo r sa le , and I’ ll w a rra n t you'll soon
be tru n d led o u t o f th e house. 1
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. W ith a good th rash in g to b o o t, I suppose.
No m a tte r, if I can b u t slip o u t o f th e house, I d o n 't c a re w h at I slip in to .
(K N ICKERBOCKER sits in arm c h air and ALICE p u ts p ed lars
clo ak and h a t on him . He rises and th e p e ttic o a t b ut re a c h e s to his knees.)
C onfound th e low er g arm en ts! T h ey 're to o sh o rt by h alf.
ALICE. Tis your legs a re to o long by h alf. Stoop down; say as
little as possible and you'll n o t be d isco v ered . (S its. E n ter DAME.)
DAME. W ell; I've g o t back and I see Mr Van Slous has gone; b u t
w h ere's th a t v a rle t R ip—o u t again! Oh th a t Rip! T h at Rip! I'll c e rta in ly
be th e d e ath o f him or he w ill o f m e—w hich is m o st likely—A lice, who
have you in th a t ch air?
ALICE. The p ed lar w om an, A unt, who cam e for th e th in g s she!
le f t.
DAME. The p e d lar w om an. (G oes to c h air.) H ark ee, gossip, b rin g ’
no m ore o f yo u r rubbish h e re . T ake y o u rse lf o ff and le t m e have a c le a r
house.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. (A side.) G ad I w ish I w as sa fe ly cleared!
o u t o f it. (R ise, and c u rtsie s. DAME sees his legs.)
1
DAME. Odds boddikins and pins! Who h ave w e h ere? An im poster!|
B ut you sh all pay fo r it. This a p e d lar w om an indeed! W ith such lanky!
shanks. (Runs and locks door and pursues K NICKERBOCKER w ith broom .'
He flings bonnet in h e r fa c e .) J
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. N eeds m ust w hen th e devil d riv es—so h ere1
goes. (Jum ps th ro u g h window sm ashing it. DAME runs to door w ith
broom and s trik e s RIP on th e h ead , who is ju st en terin g .) j
DAME. T ake th a t, you sco u n d rel. j
R IP. I've g o t it, lo v ee. (R ubbing his head.) N abbed it ra re ly .(
Zounds, w h at a ta rn a tio n m o lly -g rip p er. ;
DAME. Molly who—v a rm in t. H ere has b een a p re tty rum pus
sin ce you le f t th e house.
R IP. D on't doubt it—if you have sta id hom e during th e w hile,
I
fo r by gum shots, tis in v ariab ly so, D am e,—th a t is, w hen w e tw o dont
m ake one.
DAME. O ne indeed! Why you a re b e astly drunk a g ain —you are,;
sirrah!
RIP. D runk. G uess as how I’m n o t—only so—so—
DAME. Only so-so. T h a t's alw ays your go. A vile ro ad it is. But;
i
odds boddikins and pins, I'll m ake th e p la ce to o h o t to hold you. |
I
R IP. T h a t's a f a c t—alw ays do—so have no in te n tio n o f stoppingj
to be stew e d to d e a th by p ie c e -m e a l. A lice, give m e my gun and bag—I'll
be o ff to th e m ountains—fin e m oonlight—bring you hom e an opossum ,
i
my d arlin g , tough as your tongue.
ALICE. P ray , b ro th e r, dont go to th e m ountains a t th is u n tim ely
hour—co n sid er th e g e n e ra l re p o rts o f th e sp irits who w alk th o se regions
1
a t n ig h t— !
299
I
R IP. S pirits! E cod, I'm p ro o f a g a in st th e m , I guess. H aving stood
1
it so long w ith c ream o f ta r ta r th e re , I'd go anyw here to be o u t o f the,
i
clap o f h er m ill. j
DAME. Odds boddikins and pins! L e t him go to th e d eu ce, so|
I am b u t rid of th e lag g ard . I
(ALICE brings bag and gun an d helps him ad ju st th e m .) !
i
l
R IP. (S taggering.) Good n ig h t, sis—Good n ig h t, old
c a tte ra n io n —You shall be le t in to a s e c re t in th e m orning—I'll su rp rise
old bran d y -b lo o d su ck er. Look h ere--h o -h o -h o ! (W aves b o ttle . E xit.)
DAME. M ercy on us, if he h a sn 't g o t my b o ttle ; and w ill no doubt
drink—
R IP. (Looking in w indow .) E very drop th a t's in i t —h e re 's your
good h e a lth and your fam ily 's and m ay you a ll liv e long and p ro sp er.
(D rinks. DAME rushes a t him w ith broom . RIP vanishes. ALICE laughs.)
DAME. W hat! Laugh a t his m isco n d u ct, hussy! O ne's ju s t as
bad as th e o th e r. A ll born to plague m e. G et you to bed—to bed, I say!
(D rives ALICE o ff and follow s. CU RTA IN .)
I
SCEN E IV. !
(R o m an tic view o f th e Hudson fro m th e m ountains. On th e R.j
a shrub, am id st underw ood. In th e back a ro ck y p ra c tic a b le a sc e n t. The|
re p o rt o f a gun is h eard . A m o m en t a f te r E n te r R IP.)
R IP. Whip poor Will! Egad, I th in k th e y 'll whip poor R ip. A n o th er
m iss—Oh! C urse th e m isses and th e m issusses! H ang m e if I can get!
a single sh o t a t th e sk y -flie rs. Wish I had one o f th e G erm an guns w hich1
I
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K n ick erb o ck er ta lk s so m uch ab o u t, one th a t fires around co rn e rs—la!'
725
|730
i
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|
i
735
740
745
750
How I'd bring th em down! F a ith , w as I to wing as m any daily as woulc
i
fill a d earh o rn , D am e w ouldn't be s a tisfie d —n o t th a t sh e's avarieious;j
b u t th e n she m ust h ave so m eth in g or som ebody to sn a rl a t and I'm the;
i
unlucky dog a t whom sh e alw ay s le ts fly. Now th e re 's K n ick erb o ck er—silly!
i
lad ,—in d eu ced h urry to be m a rrie d to my s is te r—w on't ta k e w arning
by m y sad m ishap, though w ith daily proofs o f w h at I s u ffe r. (Y aw ning.)
I m ust even, though I hope it w ont s e t th e ladybirds yaw ning as w ell,
ru m in a te on my c o m fo rts sin ce D am e and I m ade one. (Sits and sings.)
I th o u g h t single life th e devil
E re th e rig h t fro m w rong I knew :
And in a c u rsed hour o f evil
I g o t w edded to a shrew .
O nce I liv ed a life o f g lory, 1
Now I te ll a d iffe re n t sto ry ;
I am m a rrie d , dont you se e —
H en -p eck ed husbands p ity m e.
I d eem ed th a t m arried life w as bliss;
It proved alas, deceiving,
W h ate'er I did w as d eem ed am iss
And tw a s to o la te for g rieving.
I ro am th ro u g h th e fo re s t and o v er th e m ountain,
And s triv e , w hile I sh o o t, to d riv e sorrow aw ay;
But sad re m e m b ra n ce keeps e v e r re c o u n tin g
T h a t w hen I re tu rn th e re 's th e devil to pay.
I'm sleep y —I'm dozy; In sp ite o f e v ery ra p I'll have a little nap.,
And so—h e re goes. (Hangs his gun on th e b ram b le, he e x ten d s him self;
a t full le n g th and falls asleep , re p e a tin g : "I'll have a little nap." Silence.j
Then a noise like th e ro llin g o f cannon balls is h eard in th e d ista n c e —th en I
i
a d isco rd an t sh o u t o f la u g h te r. R IP, aw akened, sits up in a larm .) Whatj
th e deuce is it? My w ife a t my elbow ? Oh no, n o th in g of th e kind. I '
m ust have been d ream in g . So, I'll c o n triv e to nap sin ce I'm so fa r from
h e r din. (Sleeps. Laugh is re p e a te d and he sits up again.) I c a n 't be|
755
760
j
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j765
i
770
775
301
m istak en th is tim e . P lague o n 't, Ir ve g o t am ong th e sp irits o f the
m o u n tain s, m eth in k s, and h av en 't a drop o f sp irits le ft to k eep th em
o ff. (M usic. V oice w ith o u t.)
SW AGGNERBELIBUS. R ip Van W inkle! R ip Van Winkle! j
R IP. T h a t's m e to a c e rta in ty . Why, who th e deu ce have w e here?j
I
It should be an old frien d , from th e v ery fa m ilia r w ay he c alls. i
(E n ter SW AGGNERBELIBUS, a g ro te sq u e d w arf, L. bending
b e n ea th th e w eig h t o f a la rg e cask w hich he b ears on his b ack . He pauses,
exam in es R IP, th en in v ites him to assist in placin g th e cask on th e ground,
w hich th e la t t e r does.)
H ang m e if he h a sn 't brought my h e a rt up into my m outh! What,
an ou tlan d ish being! N ot a sea -sn ak e , by gosh! !
(SWAGGNERBELIBUS, p o in tin g to th e cask, e n tre a ts R ip's
a ssistan c e in b earin g it up th e m ountain.)
W ant m e to help you up w ith it? Why n o t say so a t fir s t, my old
codger? W hat a q u eer old chap. To be su re, b u t I c a n 't le t him to il up
th e m ountain w ith such a heavy load as th a t. No, no! And so, old broad
chops, I'll help you.
(M usic. DWARF a ssists in p lacin g cask on R IP's shoulder, i
A loud laugh is h eard . RIP shows a la rm , b u t his com panion, m otioningj
him to p ro c e ed and to be o f good c o u ra g e, leads th e w ay up th e rocks j
R . A n o th er p eal o f la u g h te r and RIP h a stily follow s his guide.)
I
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I
SCEN E V. i
I
(The Sleepy Hollow in th e bosom o f th e m ountains, occupying |
th e c e n te r o f th e sta g e . S tu n ted tre e s , fra g m e n ts o f ro ck . Moon in th e
780
1785
790
795
800
805
810
302]
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horizon, th e e n tra n c e to th is hollow being from an abyss in th e re a r o f
th e glen. G ro tesq u e D u tch fig u res, w ith enorm ous m asked heads andj
lo fty ta p e rin g h a ts a re d isco v ered playing a t cords in various p la ce s—o th e rs
a t D utch pins, b a ttle d o re and sh u ttle c o c k . A few a re s e a te d on a rock,
drinking and sm oking. T hey sing.)
i
GAUDERKIN.
S ince on e a rth th is only day !
In fif ty y e ars w e 're given to stra y :
W e'll keep it as a holiday, !
So, b ro th e rs, le ts be jolly.
ICKEN.
B ut q u estio n w h ere's th a t la zy w ight,
Who, soon as sun w ithdrew its lig h t,
Was fo r th e e a rth 's ric h b e v erag e se n t,
And has such tim e in ab sen ce sp en t?
GAUDERKIN.
P erh ap s w ith som e m isfo rtu n e h e's been doom ed to m e et,
C ro ssed , no doubt, on th e ro ad by m o rta l f e e t.
ICKEN.
And w h at th e punishm ent th a t you d e cree
On him on whom our m y ste rie s m ake fre e ?
GAUDERKIN.
T w en ty y ears in slu m b er's chain
Is th e f a te th a t we ordain;
Y et if m erry w ight he prove
P leasin g d ream s his slee p sh all m ove.
ICKEN.
O ur b ro th e r co m es, and up th e rugged s te e p
A m o rta l see Sw aggrino's p re sen c e keep.
CHORUS.
T w en ty y ears in slu m b er's chain
Is th e f a te th a t w e ordain:
He com es! He com es! L e t silen ce reig n ,
L et silen ce reign! L et silen ce reign!
(The sp rite s r e tir e up and s ta tio n th e m se lv e s in m o tio n less:
a ttitu d e s . M usic. SWAGGNERBELIBUS e n te rs th ru opening in re a r,
j
follow ed by R IP w ith th e keg. R IP and SW AGGNERBELIBUS p u t keg!
on ro ck down L. RIP looks ab o u t fe a rfu lly a t th e sile n t fig u res.)
815 R IP. I'm a dead m an to a ta rn a tio n c e rta in ty ! Into w hat stra n g e
I
i
com pany have I tum bled! C rik ey , w h at w ill b eco m e o f me! D ear, dear!)
I
Would I w ere hom e ag ain , ev en along w ith D am e Van W inkle.
t
!
(M usic. The fig u res sev e ra lly ad v an ce and s ta r e a t him ,
i
th e n resu m e th e ir g am es. SWAGGNERBELIBUS ta p s th e cask—m otions
820 th e asto n ish ed RIP to a ssist him in pouring its c o n te n ts into flagons.
| SWAGGNERBELIBUS c a rrie s flagons to his com panions.)
i A fte r all, th e y seem a h arm less s e t, and th e re can be no a rg u m en t
w ith th em fo r th e y ap p ea r to be all dum bies. Lord, w ere my w ife as,
I silen t! T hey’re a d eadly, liv ely , jolly, s e t; b u t I w onder w hat kind of
i
825 sp irits th e se sp irits a re drinking? Surely th e re can be no harm in tak in g
a drop along w ith th e m . H ere goes! G en tlem en , h e re 's your good h ealth s,
and your broad chopped fam ily 's, and m ay you all liv e long and p ro sp er.
(D rinks.) By th e hookey, tis no in su b sta n tia l s p irit, fo r c e rta in , since
it has given m e such e x c e lle n t sp irits th a t I could lau g h , d an ce, sing,!
- i
830 or do any th in g . H ang m e if I should now be a fra id to ta c k le my tarn atio n l
dam e!
(M usic. A g ro tesq u e dan ce ensues, during w hich RIP
con tin u es to supply h im self fro m th e keg. He joins in th e d an ce, b u t
I
b eco m es ex h au ste d and re e ls fo rw ard and sinks on s ta g e in c e n te r front.;
I
835 The dance c ea ses, th e sp rite s u tte r th re e ho! ho! ho!s and re tir e .
SW AGGNERBELIBUS, advancing to RIP and m akes m otions o v er him 1
to in d ic a te th a t th e tw e n ty y e a r sleep has begun fo r th e tre ssp a sse r on'
th e m y steries, and is re tirin g as th e CURTAIN falls.)
30?
A C T n.
SCENE I.
(Sam e as la s t scen e b u t th e d is ta n t now re p re se n ts a richly!
840 c u ltiv a te d co u n try . The b ram b le is grow n in to a tr e e and R ip's gun is
i
m erely a ru sty b a rre l w hich lays a t th e fo o t o f th e tr e e . R IP is d isco v ered
e x ten d e d on th e ground a sle e p , his h air g ra y and b eard grow n to an unusual’
le n g th . It is e a rly m orning and birds a re tw itte rin g .)
R IP. (Speaking in his sleep .) M other Van W inkle, D am e Van W inkle,
845 w h ere a re ye a r te r ? D on’t be alw ays b ad gering—w ill you n e v e r allow
poor R ip a m o m en t’ s q u ie t? C urse it! D on't th ro w th e h o t w a te r ab o u t
so! Y ou'll scald o n e’ s ey es and so you w ill—d arn atio n ! And no m ista k e —so
you have! (A w akes.) EH! By crik ey , w h at's all th is? W here am I, in
th e n am e o f goodness—w here am I? Oh, th e C atsk ill m ountains! By
850 a ll th a t's m iraculous! Egad, my rib w ill play th e very devil w ith m e for'
sto p p in g o u t all n ig h t. T h ere w ill be a fin e p eal sounded w hen I g e t hom e.
(R ises.) How confoundedly s tif f and so re m y jo in ts do fe e l—eg ad , th e s e :
m ountain beds a re d arn ed u n c o m fo rta b le and w rings ones w ithers!
i
ta rn a tio n ly . Should th is ram b le lay m e up w ith a spell o f rh e u m a tism ,
855 w h at a blessed tim e m ay I have to e x p e c t from D am e Van W inkle. Oh
crik ey , th e re 'll be no end to h e r surm on. Surely I m ust h ave been sleep in g
fo r a p re tty long tim e . A sleep! G uess as how I w as aw ake and enjoying
m yself w ith as jo lly a rum s e t o f co d g ers as ev er helped to toom out;
a keg o f H ollands—I dan ced , and eg ad , dran k w ith th em till I w as p re tty j
860 blue and th a t's no m istak e; b u t confound it, th e y shouldn't have c a u g h t1
1
m e napping for tis plain th e y have ta k e n th em selv es o ff lik e an
u ncerem o n io u s s e t o f—s e t o f—give an ey e to o th to know who th e y w ere—no
305
C h ristian s, it m ay be sa fe ly sw orn, or th e y w ould n e v e r have s ta rte c
and le f t a poor devil exposed on th e m o u n tain s to th e night a ir w ith o u t
I
leav in g a p o rtio n o f th e ir good c h e e r w h erew ith to w et his th r o ttle . Why.
am I d ream in g still? No, w ide aw ake, by hookey! Y es, yonder winds
th e H udson, though fo r c e rta in a ll beyond it seem s plaguey a lte re d . J u s t1
th re e m iles is th e v illag e and in th a t v illag e is m y vixen—pray heaven
she m ay be in a b e tte r mood th is m orning th a n w hen w e p a rte d la st
evening. (Sees ru sty gun b a rre l.) Hillo! C om e up! H e re ’s a g rab , th e
unm annerly s e t o f sh arp ers, sto le n one o f th e b e st fow ling p ieces th a t
e v er m ade a c ra c k and le f t th is w o rth less ru sty b a rre l by w ay o f exchange.
W hat w ill D am e Van W inkle say to th is? By th e hookey, b u t sh e'll com b
my h a ir finely! (Sees tre e .) H illo, my m asters! H ere's another,
tra n sm o g rific a tio n ! Be blow ed if e v er I W ent to sleep n e a th th e
H ickory—t'w as a m ere bush; b u t h ick o ries a re fam ous as th riv in g . Y et,
th is is as w onderful as Ja c k 's b ean sta lk th a t grew up in th e n ig h t. I'm
p u zzled , and n o t w ith o u t cau se. This is th e p la ce to Ja c k 's c e rta in ty ,
fo r h e re I stu ck my g am e bag, though all th a t's le f t o f it is th e buckle
and th e s tra p . C an I be d ream in g still? Is th e re any one who will be
good enough to te ll m e w h e th er it is so or n o t; be blow ed if I can make;
h ead or ta il on't! Only one co u rse now re m a in s, to pluck up reso lu tio n ;
s
go back to D am e Van W inkle and, by gosh, sh e'll soon le t me know w h e th e r
I am aw ake o r n o t. (E xit.)
SCENE n .
(A w ell fu rn ish ed a p a rtm e n t in th e house o f KNICKERBOCKER.:
LOWENNA, now a w om an, e n te rs follow ed by SOPHIA.) t
3061
SOPHIA. D ear, d e a r Miss L ow enna, why be so unhappy? It m akes
»
one m iserab le to se e th o se whom th e y love th u s d isco n so late an d on th ia
day above a ll. I
t
i
890 LOWENNA. Alas! This day re c a lls th e num erous unhappy hours'
i ;
| d e stin ed fo r my e x p erien c e sin ce my fa th e r's m y sterio u s d isap p e a ra n ce J
j Ah, Sophia, had you b u t known him .
! SOPHIA. T ruly, he had vanished long e re I w as born—th e y say
he w as a stra n g e , absurd, good n a tu re d s o rt o f a m an, b u t so w oefully
895 a d d ic te d to th e b o ttle th a t he n e v er re m e m b e re d in th e m orning w hat
he said o v er n ight.
LOWENNA. Sophia, you a re fre e in p ra te —re c o lle c t you a re
speaking to th e d a u g h te r o f th e lo st R ip Van W inkle—th e individual whom
you p resum e to d ecry ; be assu red su ch d eclaim does n o t e le v a te you
900 in my e ste e m . (A side.) Oh, be c o n te m p t th e p o rtio n o f th a t child who
| h e ars a p a re n t re v ile d , how ever g re a t his fa u lts!
SOPHIA. I spoke n o t w ith th e s lig h te s t d esire o f ag o n izin g th e
th o u g h ts o f a lady w hose bounty and kindness have fo r n e a rly tw e n ty
y e a rs n u rtu re d and p ro te c te d a pu re orphan; indeed I w ould say nothing!
905 to m ake you unhappy. It was ill-tim e d , p erhaps, b u t indeed th e re wasj
no harm m e a n t. Folks w ill ta lk , and th o se who lis t, re p e a t. The poor!
i
old soul has now been a b se n t tw e n ty y ears.
LOW ENNA. T rue. U n fo rtu n ate ly my p a re n ts hum ors w e re n o t
i
c a lc u la te d fo r each o th e rs en jo y m en t; an d one evening, a f te r a triv ialj
910 w ran g le, w earied w ith silly c o n ten tio n , my fa th e r le f t hom e fo r a J
I
ex cu rsio n on th e m ountains, sin ce w hich tim e he has not been h e a rd of.j
S h o rtly a f te r his d isap p earan ce, my poor m o th er paid th e d eb t o f n a tu re ,
915
920
!
I
I
925
I
930
935
3071
I
and b u t fo r th e h u m an ity o f K n ick erb o ck er, who m arried my au n t A lice,1
and took m e and cousin u n d er his p ro te c tio n , h eav en knows w h at would
i
have been th e f a te o f R ip Van W inkle's fa m ily . ;
SOPHIA. P ardon, Miss L ow enna, b u t folks say—m ind I only rep eati
i
w hat folks say —th e y say th a t th e loss o f your fa th e r and m o th er is n o t1
so m uch th e cau se o f your depression as is th e ab sen ce o f your cousin
G u sta ffe .
LOWENNA. N or does re p o rt b elie m e; why co n tin u e to sigh fo r
th o se irrev o cab ly d e p a rte d ? My th o u g h ts a re on one who m ay o ffe r advice
and co n so latio n , in th e re fle c tio n o f w hose le n g th e n ed ab sen ce, tis tru e ,
I am m ost unhappy.
SOPHIA. Pon my w ord, Miss, folks d o n t see why you should be^
so; seein g by yo u r a u n t's d e ath y o u're le f t in possession of a v ery handsom e
fo rtu n e —such a one as few in th is p la ce can b o ast of. Y our g u ard ian ,
Mr K n ick erb o ck er, e x e rts his u tm o st to m ake you happy and—b u t m um ,
h e re he com es w ith his lady. M ustn't say m o re. He likes no one to ta lk
sav e h im self.
(E n ter KNICKERBOCKER and ALICE arm in a rm . They,
a re plum per and o ld er, b u t ALICE is d ressed in th e h eig h t o f fashion.) i
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. D ecided th a t cau se in a m ost ju d g m atical;
i
m anner. W hite w asn 't black--S aw th a t in a tw inkling—No one d isputed
my a rg u m e n t. C om e along, spouse. Lauks how you do w addle from side|
!
to side like one o f o u r b u tte r lad en doggers in a sq u all, as th e D utchm en'
have it. Ah Low enna! You h ere, my p re tty n e ic e , and Sophia to o , darling!
L eaping aliv e, as fish erm en have it w hen hauling in a n e t o f shad. Butj
Low enna! You a p p e a r m ore d ep ressed th a n c u sto m ary . (A side.) Thej
308]
I
f a c t is, I’m in th e sam e vein w ith all th e philosophy endow ed by n a tu re J
940 I'm dum pish th ough striv in g to ra lly . Low enna, th o se sad d en ed looks
a re by no m eans pleasin g to th o se who would e v e r wish to se e you cheerful.!
!
W hat th e dickens p re v e n ts you from b ein g o th erw ise w hen a ll around
i
a re so anxious fo r your happiness?
LOWENNA. T ruly am I beh o ld en fo r your p ro te c tio n , and ev er
945 g ra te fu l; b u t to p la ce a sm ile on th e brow w hilst sorrow lin g ers in th e
h e a rt, is a d e c e p tiv e p en an ce to th e w e a re r; pain fu l to th o se around
who m ust p e rc e iv e th e v izard . To say th a t I am happy w ould be
!
in co n siste n t w ith tru th . The p ersec u tio n s o f H erm an Van Slous—
ALICE. Ah, my d e ar L ow enna, m any a re stle ss n ig h t h av e I had
950 on th a t v a rle t’s a cc o u n t, as spouse know s.
i
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T h at's as tru e as th e re a re g h o sts in the,
; i
I C atsk ills, as D u tch m en have it; fo r be darn ed if a single n ig h t passes
is A lice su ffe rs m e to go to slee p p e a c e fu lly , how soever she m ay be tire d
in speaking o f him .
i
955 A LICE. W ell, w ell, c h e e r th e e , n e ic e . T h ere is bounteous!
in te llig e n c e in s to re . Nor think th e re 's any idle fic tio n in th is brain,'
as o u r divine p o ets p ic tu re .
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T h ere, th e re , A lice is g e ttin g in to her!
ro m a n c es ag ain —plain as my fis t she h as been m oonified e v e r since.,
j
960 She b ecam e a su b scrib er fo r books a t th e New L ib rary —p la n e t-s tru c k ,t
by gum , as philosophers h av e it, an d -- j
A LICE. And you have said so little to th e purpose th a t I must!
!
now in te rp o se. My d e a r L ow enna, cousin G u sta ffe —tis your a u n t who
!
sp eak s—
965
970
975
I
980
985
990
309]
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T h ere now , pops in h e r w ord b efo re a
m a g istra te .
LOWENNA. My cousin G u sta ffe , ah! Say you th a t— j
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. Would have to ld you in a b ra c e o f shakes,j
as g am b lers have it, if she h ad n 't th ro w n th e dice fir s t. Y es, m y p retty '
chickey, G u sta ffe 's v essel is now m aking up th e Hudson; so c h e e r th e e
a t le a s t in one re s p e c t, as counsels say to c lie n ts w hen th e y p e rc eiv e
a single fav o rab le fe a tu re in th e ir cau se o f d e fe n ce . C h e e r th e e , I say,
your coz is n o t fa r o ff.
LOWENNA. G u sta ffe so n ear—b lessed in te llig e n c e! Oh th e happiest'
w ishes o f my h e a rt a re g ra tifie d ! B ut a re you c e rta in ? Do n ot ra ise
my hopes w ith o u t cau se; a re you q u ite c e rta in ? S peak, d ear A unt, a re
you indeed a ssu red th a t G u sta ffe 's v essel has arriv ed ? ;
KNICK ERBO CK ER. D idn't th in k fit to b reak th e new s to o suddenly,;
b u t you have it.
ALICE. "The ship w ith w ide expanded can v as g lid es along and:
soon"—I fo rg e t th e re m a in d er o f th e q u o ta tio n , but tis in th e d electab le!
i
w ork 'R obinson C ru so e'—soon w ill you h e ar him hail. (K nocking heard!
L. SOPHIA goes o ff.) My s ta rs fo re te ll th a t th is is e ith e r him —
KNICK ERBO CK ER. Or som ebody else , as I suppose.
(E n ter SOPHIA.)
SOPHIA. Oh sir, sq u ire K nickerbocker! H erm an, son of th e la te
D errick Van Slous in th e H all— !
ALICE. T h a t's n o t th e him whom I e x p e c te d , a t a ll e v e n ts. !
i
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. Son o f th e individual whom I su cc e ed e d as!
b u rg o m aster. T alk o f th e devil—now I d o n t know how it is, b u t I'm alw ays j
310]
qualm ish w hen in th e com pany o f th e se law y ers th a t's o f his c a s t. Quij
T am s—
SOPHIA. He w ishes to be in tro d u ced . W hat is your p leasu re?
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. L et him be so. By a ll m eans, an h o n est m an’
I
995 n e e d n 't fe a r th e devil.
I
(E xit SOPHIA.)
i
LOW ENNA. Excuse my p re sen c e, U ncle; to h ear him re p e a t his
claim s would b u t a f f lic t a h e a rt a lre a d y ag o n ized , and w ith your leav e
I w ill w ithdraw .
1000 KN ICK ERBO CK ER. Aye, ay e, le t m e alone to m an ag e him , as
|
a b a rris te r say s to his c lie n t w hen he cross questio n s a w itn ess. See
i
Miss Low enna to h e r ch am b er, Mrs K n ick erb o ck er; th is H erm an is a dam ned
I
i ro g u e, as th e English have it, and h e'll go to th e dom inions below as th e
dev il w ill have it, and as I have had it fo r th e la s t tw e n ty y e a rs.
1005 ALICE. And I'll te ll you to your c o m fo rt, if you d o n 't send th e
v a rle t quick o ff w ith a fle a in his e a r, you sh all have it. Y es, sq uire
K n ick erb o ck er, you sh all have it, be assu red . So says Mrs K n ick erb o ck er;
you sh all have it. I
(E xit ALICE and LOWENNA R.)
1010 K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T ruly, I've had p le n ty of i t a lre a d y from
i
you, Mrs K—have had it! B ut h ave no rig h t to com plain o f my bargain)
fo r th e m a jo rity of m ankind m akes w orse. Now com es th e job; th is day
c o m p le tes th e tw e n ty y e ars and a day sin ce my b ro th e r-in -la w R ip Van;
W inkle d isap p eared , w hen his d a u g h ter my w ard, m ust e ith e r yield herj
1015 hand to th e said H erm an , or fo rfe it th e w hole o f th e la rg e propertyj
b e q u ea th e d by h e r la te a u n t. F o rfe it h e r p ro p erty ! T h at w ould be grubbing'
up indeed, as th e g a rd e n ers have it; and to m arry him would be a cursed
bad m a tc h . This H erm an is a black sheep; his fa th e r tru n d le d o ff; his
I
h e a r t broken by his son's d issip atio n , and I tru n d led in to his shoes o f office;j
1020 w hich w as no bad m ove as th e backgam m on play ers h ave it. Oh h ere
he com es now , fo r a quan d ary , as th e m an said w hen his cow stu c k in1
i
j a slough and no one to a ssist in e x tric a tin g th e an im al.
(E n ter HERM AN L.)
HERM AN. Sir, I w ait upon you once m ore. The p erio d is now
1025 ex p ired w hen my ju s t claim , w hich you have so long p ro tra c te d can be
no lo n g er vainly d isp u ted —a vain and idle d isp u te o f ju stic e .
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. P recio u s fine indeed, sir, but m y w ard has
a m ighty stro n g re lu c ta n c e to p a rt w ith h er fo rtu n e and m uch m o re so
to m ake you h er p a rtn e r fo r life ; you a re n o t e x a c tly to h e r liking nor
1030 to h er—or to th e w orld g en erally .
HERM AN. O ne o r th e o th e r she is com pelled to! You a re aw are
sir, th a t th e law is on my sid e—th e law , sir—th e law , sir.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Oh yes, and no doubt e v ery quibble t h a t
it o ffe rs w ill be tw is te d to th e b e st purpose for your in te re s t. Y ou're
1035 a d a p ste r a t ch ican e, or y o u 're p re c ise ly b elied —
HERM AN. You w ill n o t, I p resu m e, dispute th e sig n a tu re of the!
I
«
individual who fo rm ed th e c o n tra c t? j
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Oh no! N ot dispute R ip's sig n a tu re , b u t his;
I
e rro r in ju d g e m e n t. I h appened to be a c ab in e t-c o u n e illo r a t th e tim e
1040 in f a c t a t th e v ery m o m en t my d ece a se d re la tiv e —who w as non com pos
i
m en tis a t th e tim e —clap p ed his pen to a w ritin g a rtfu lly e x tr a c te d from '
1 0 4 5
<1050
I
j
<1055
l
I
I
i
1060
1 0 6 5
3 1 2 1
him by your d e fu n c t fa th e r—w hose m em o ry is b e tte r fo rg o tte n th a n
rem em b ered .
HERM AN. Sir, I cam e n o t h e re to m e e t in su lt. My claim sh all
I
be in s titu te d b e fo re a c o m p e te n t trib u n a l th a t w ill do pro m p t justice.j
I
You, sir, c ite d to c o rro b o ra tiv e ev id en ce. I
i
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. Well sir, th o b u t a young co u n try , our judges'
a re old in w isdom , and though th e ex p ress l e t t e r o f th e law d ic ta te s th e ir
p ro ceed in g s, th e re s till rem ain s an in d ep en d en t jury to ta k e co g n izan ce
o f f a c ts , by w hose im p a rtia l f ia t th is im p o rta n t cau se m ust be decid ed .
This trib u n al, sir, is one o f th e p ro u d est fe a tu re s we have p re serv e d o f
th e old c o u n try , and long m ay it flo u rish unim p aired in th e U n ited
S ta te s —th e tr ia l by jury.
HERM AN. I cam e h ith e r, p ersu ad ed you would acknow ledge my
rig h ts and to p re v e n t a p u b licity th a t m ay be pain fu l to bo th p arties..
You a re inclined to d isp u te th em . B efo re a trib u n a l sh all th e y be
a rb itra te d , and know ing m y claim s, Mr K n ick erb o ck er, know w ell th a t
Low enna o r h e r fo rtu n e m ust be m ine. (E xit.)
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. You go to D avy Jo n es, as th e seam en have'
I
it. Low enna sh all n e v er be yours—and as to h e r fo rtu n e , fo rtu n e is aj
blind goddess, as th e lo tte ry o ffic e k eep ers have it. No m a tte r, I have'
i
picked up so m eth in g sin ce I have been m e rc h a n t and b u rg o m a ster; and;
if e v er she w an ts a c e n t w hilst I have one, my n am e isn 't
K n ick erb o ck er—dam m e! As th e dandies have it.
(E n ter ALICE w ith LOWENNA R .) I
LOWENNA. My d e ar guardian! You have got rid o f H erm an,
I p e rc eiv e .
1 0 7 0
1075
1
1080
i
i
I
1085
1 0 9 0
3131
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. I w ish I had, w ith all m y soul; b u t he stic k s
!
i
to his ra sca lly u n d e rta k in g lik e a c ra b to its sh ell. Egad, th e re w ill be
i
no dislodging him unless he's clap p ed in to a cau ld ro n of boiling w ater,)
as th e fishm ongers h ave it.
I
ALICE. And boiled to rag s. B ut husband—husband, I say— !
i
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. Mr K n ick erb o ck er, my d e a r, if you p lease—
ALICE. W ell th e n , Mr K n ick erb o ck er, m y d e ar, if you p lease,
w e have b een looking o u t a t th e window to a s c e rta in who c am e and w en t,
i
and have d isco v ered a fin e handsom e fellow galloping to w ard s town.,
I shouldn't a t a ll w onder if it w a sn 't—
(GUSTAFFE rushes in L.)
f
LOWENNA. (R unning to him .) My cousin, my d e a r d e a r G u staffe! ;
GUSTA FFE. (E m bracing her.) My te n d e r, ch arm in g Low enna! !
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Why G u staffe! Bless us, how th e spark has,
grow n!
ALICE. N ot q u ite so c o rp u le n t as you, spouse.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Spouse! Mr K n ick erb o ck er, if you p lease.
T ruly, w ife, w e h ave bo th in c re ase d so m ew h at in c o rp o ra l as w ell as
te m p o ra l su b sta n c e sin ce G u sta ffe w en t to sea ; b u t you know , A lice—I
I
ALICE. Mrs K n ick erb o ck er, if you p lease.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. W ell, Mrs K n ick erb o ck er— |
G U STAFFE. Why, U ncle, you have th riv en w ell o f la te .
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. I belong to th e co rp o ra tio n and we m ust
su p p o rt our co rp o ra tio n as w ell as it; b u t n o t a w ord a b o u t th e pig, as!
i
th e b u tc h ers have it w hen th e y have n o t one th a t's su ita b le fo r m ark etin g ;
as w hen you w as a little boy, and A lice c o u rtin g m e.
1095
i
j
1100
1105
i
1110
i
1115
314
ALICE. I c o u rt you, sirrah! W hat m ean you?
K NICK ERBO CK ER. Sirrah! Mr K n ick erb o ck er, if you p le ase —whyj
th e n , d earey ? We d id n 't lik e anyone to in tru d e upon our so c ie ty ; do you
ta k e th e h in t as th e g am blers have it? C om e along, A lice—Mrs
K n ick erb o ck er I w ould say—le ts le av e th e lo v ers to th e m selv e s. ;
ALICE. A gain th e y m e et and sw e e t's th e love th a t m e ets re tu rn .
(E xit ALICE and K N ICK ERBO CK ER R . singing 'A gain th ey
m e et.')
GU STA FFE. My d e ar Low enna! Why th is d e je c te d look? It is
your own G u sta ffe enfolds you in his arm s.
LOW ENNA. A las! I am no lo n g er w orthy o f your love, your
friendship! A f a ta l bond e x tra c te d from my la m e n ted fa th e r h as sev ered
us fo re v e r. I am devoid o f fo rtu n e .
G U STA FFE. L ow enna, you have been th e s ta r th a t h as guided
my b ark —th e e my com pass—m y n o rth p o le—and w hen th e m ag n et refu ses
its aid to th e seam en , th en w ill he b eliev e th a t you have fo u n d ered in
a ffe c tio n , o r th in k th a t I would prove fa ith le ss from th e loss o f e a rth ly
p itta n c e .
LOWENNA. Shoals—to sp eak in your n a u tic a l lan g u ag e—havei
long on e v ery side surrounded m e; b u t m y kind uncle com es, and by his
ad v ice m ust w e be guided.
(E n ter KNICKERBOCKER R .)
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. W ell, eg ad , it m ust be w ell, as th e e x c a v a to rs
have it w hen th e y g e t to th e b o tto m of th e w ell; lo ts o f sighs, hugs and.
kisses as I once used to have it. I
I
LOWENNA. B ut m y d e a r au n t A lice, w h ere is she? |
1120
I
1 1 1 2 5
| l l 3 0
i
1 1 3 5
1 1 4 0
315
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. Mrs K n ick erb o ck er, if you p lease. j
GUSTA FFE. A nything you p lease, my old com m odore, bless yourj
h o n est soul! (They shake hands.) !
KNICK ERBO CK ER. Hillo! Hillo! N ot so pressing, if you please,'
I
as th e fly said to th e sp id er w hen in v ited to g e t in to its w eb.
GU STAFFE. W ell th e n , my au n t A lice?
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Mrs K nick erb o ck er, if you p lease.
GUSTA FFE. W ell th e n , my au n t Mrs K n ick erb o ck er, if you please;
th e d elight o f rejo in in g th e y o u th fu l com panion o f my h e a rt has m ade
m e n e g le c tfu l o f th e d u ty to my g u ard ian o f my e a rly y e ars. N ext to
Low enna, she is on e a rth th e d e a re s t to m y h e a rt. I h a ste to fold h er
in my arm s. (E xit R . w ith LOWENNA.)
KNICK ERBO CK ER. Fold Mrs K n ick erb o ck er in his arm s! A b ear's
hug—I'll be d arn ed —if lik e th e sq u eeze he gave m y hand. The sp ark hasn't;
been to se a fo r nothing—th e se ta rs have a ta rn a tio n o v erhauling w ay
w ith th em .
(E n ter SOPHIA L.) 1
i
SOPHIA. W ell, it m ust be allow ed he's a v ery sw e e t young man.I
(O bserves K N ICK ERBO CK ER.) I didn't m ean you sir.
KNICK ERBO CK ER. Guess as how you did. You a re a sw e e t little
g irl and I have sw e e t a ffe c tio n for you and—Sophia co m e h ith e r. I have
i
so m eth in g a g re e a b le to say to you. A re you a fra id I'll e a t you? :
i
SOPHIA. You have ju s t said I w as sw e e t; and tis said old g en tlem en
have a liquoriesh to o th , if but th e only one th e y can b o ast; and th e re fo re
would r a th e r k eep my d ista n c e . !
316
1145 K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Soph, I'm in b rig h t sp irits in co n seq u en ce
o f G u sta ffe 's u n ex p ected re tu rn . I'm in th e m ood to be jocund w ith a ll
m ankind;—no—w ith one ex cep tio n —cu rsed te rra p in th a t H erm an!—and
!
if you w ill b u t give m e a kiss I'll sing to you "L isten oh liste n to th e voice'
o f lo v e—" !
i
•1150 (ALICE who has e n te re d during th is sp eech seizes him by!
i
i
th e e ar.)
ALICE. L isten to th e voice o f a broom s tic k and th a t you shall
have o v er your back, you in c o n sta n t v a rle t.
; K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Now be blow ed if I th o u g h t you w as w ithin
1155 h earin g , Mrs K n ick erb o ck er. !
> l
I
A LICE. G uess you did n 't, vile L o thario! (She d rives him o ff R .) ;
i :
i i
SOPHIA. Y ou've found a cu re fo r your passion m ost u n ex p ected ;'
I y e t though his pro fessio n w as m ore in co m p lim en t th an s in c e rity , I shall
i
I
| be e v e r c au tio u s of old su ito rs as w ell as young, u n til th e ir a ffe c tio n s
1160 a re unequivocal, w arned by th e b allad so o fte n p lain tiv ely m en tio n ed
by
t J
THE INDIAN MAID. ' •
The w h ite m an to th e Indian grove, |
W ith fa lte rin g s te p p resu m ed to rove;
1165 H e cra v ed our c h ee r; and w igw am s b e st |
Was on th e stra n g e r kindly p re s t;— i
He drank our cup, p arto o k o u r m eal, |
And e re did sleep his ey elid s sea l,
Such m eaning did his g lan ce convey,
1170 T h a t in my bosom love held sw ay—
Though p ru dence w hispered in my e a r j
In w arning voice, ah! m aid bew are! j
Thou Indian m aid, b ew are.
317
1175
1180
1185
i
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1195
1200
A m oon, a little m oon had sped
E re th e w h ite stra n g e r le f t our shed;
And though he prom ised on love's wing
A fa ith fu l h e a rt to b rie fly bring,
No m ore th e se eyes w hich o ft he p leased
H ave on his s till lo v ed vision gazed .
He sto le m y h e a rt, d e stro y ed my p eace,
And sh am e would bring upon my ra c e ,
H ad n o t c h a ste p ru d en ce in m y e ar,
W hispered, ah m aid, rash m aid, fo re b e a r—
Thou Indian m aid fo re b e a r.
(E xit SOPHIA.)
SCENE III.
(Scene o u tsid e th e ta v e rn . The tow n has beco m e a flourishing
c ity . A h o te l stan d s w here th e ta p house had sto o d and th e sign o f G eorge
th e Third is b eco m e one o f G eorge W ashington. A s e tte e in fro n t, w ith
ta b le . The h arb o u r is filled w ith shipping. VEDDER, CLAUSEN, AND
GORGIN a t ta b le .)
CLAUSEN. T h at w e should have liv ed to w itn ess such changes!'
To see a long stra g g lin g v illag e c o n v e rte d in to a populous and extensive,
tow n—in d u stry in v itin g , sending fo rth and re c eiv in g p ro d u ce. i
VEDDER. We a re now a fre e n a tio n and our in te rn a l resources!
w ill k eep us so; b u t com e, h e re ’s Miss Low ena Van W inkle’ s good health?!
i
H eaven bless h er. (A side.) Like my p re d e ce sso r I m u st have an eye to |
I
i
business.
GORGIN. Miss Van W inkle's good h e alth . Thanks to providence
she is now m istre ss o f m any broad a c re s, as w ell as th e sp o t on w hich
th is tow n is s itu a te d . She is a good g irl.
VEDDER. None can deny th a t; to h er bounty am I in d eb ted forj
th is p re se n t c o m fo rt—th is h o te l. !
1205
)1210
I
I
I
I
i
1215
1220
1225
3i8
CLAUSEN. R aised on th e sp o t w here fo rm erly sto o d th e settling!
house o f R ory—d e fu n c t. Many a glass have w e tip p le d in th e old te n e m e n t
along w ith o u r frien d Van W inkle.
VEDDER. Ah th o se a re days long past! It is tw e n ty y e a rs since]
i
he d isap p eared . W ell, he w as a good n a tu re d fellow and kind neighbor,;
and o b ed ien t h en -p eck ed husband.
CLAUSEN. Tw as th e D am e—th e D am e. R ip w as th e b e st h e a rte d
m o rtal in e x ista n c e ; n e v er refu sin g to a ssist a neighbor, and e v e r read y
to a tte n d to anybody's business b ut his own.
(A shout is h eard w ith o u t L.)
VEDDER. Hillo! H ere's a kick -u p w ith th e e le c to rs , or ra th e r
frig h ten in g th e e le c to rs in to th e ir d u ties. W hat a ta rn a tio n hubbaboo!
(H urry. E n ter a crow d o f m ale and fe m a le VILLAGERS
surrounding R IP, and m ocking him . Those a t th e ta b le rise.)
A VILLAGER. Look a t him! Look a t th e nanny goat!
VEDDER. Who have we h ere?
CLAUSEN. W hat an outlan d ish n o n d escrip t. Why h e's enough
to frig h te n one in to fits!
GORGIN. H ark ee, frien d , a re you a fe d ra l or a d e m o c ra t? !
I
R IP. F iddle who? D am n w hose c a t? W hat a re th e y ta lk in g about?j
i
P lague on m e if I u n d erstan d them ! 1
CLAUSEN. Oh he's a fool—b roke o u t o f a m ad-house o f New!
York and ram b led h ith e r. H e m ay be d angerous—so all k eep o ff. i
»
i
GORGIN. Egad, he m ight b ite us and hydrophobia us. so we had^
b e tte r ta k e o u rselv es o ff and a tte n d th e e le c tio n . (HE and a ll th e
VILLAGERS re tir e conversing.) j
1230
1 2 3 5
I
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1 2 4 5
1250
R IP. Eh? W hat's all th is? The dev il a soul do I re c o g n ize . S tran g e
I
faces everywhere! Strange houses and strange names over the doorJ
My mind misgives me—yet surely this is my native village which I le ft
la s t n ig h t. Y et th e very p lace ap p ears ch an g ed . (D iscovers b eard .) Hillo!|
i
W hat's a ll th is? Pon m y soul, I th in k I'm chan g ed to o . (To VEDDER^
I
who re tu rn s.) D oes nobody know m e? Is th e re nobody h ere know s me?!
i
Oh th a t flagon, th e confounded flagon o f la s t n ig h t has addled my poor'
b rain sadly, and D am e alw ays say s tis n 't w ell tim b e re d . Why V edder,'
i
my old frien d V edder, su rely you c a n 't fo rg e t m e I w arran t! B ut lauks,
how he is a lte re d ! As w ell as looks m any y ears older sin ce la s t night!
Has he been on th e m ountains as w ell as m y self, I w onder?
VEDDER. Old m an, sham e, sh am e upon you! To v e n tu re o u t in
broad d ay lig h t in such a shape and a t such a busy tim e to o as e le c tio n .
Go hom e and g e t shaved.
R IP. Egad, M other W inkle w ill shave m e p re tty clo sely w hen
I do g e t hom e. Why, N icholas V edder, dont you know m e? C an it be
possible?
VEDDER. N icholas Vedder! C u rsed fam iliar! Know you? N o t1
I
I indeed. |
R IP. D arn atio n if it isn 't e a tin g th e jo in t b efo re tis boiled is th e y 'd j
have me sw allow th a t. All seem d e te rm in e d to disown m e. I am R ip|
Van W inkle, guess as how—don't you know ? ;
VEDDER. You R ip Van Winkle! Phoo! He has been d ead th e se
tw e n ty y ears.
i
I
R IP. D ead am I, o f a tru th tu rn s up, I'm not m yself; b u t w e 'll[
t
not give up the ghost till a few more questions are asked and solved.
1 2 5 5
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1 2 6 5
i
!
1 2 7 0
1 2 7 5
1 2 8 0
.. ~320j
I w as m y self la s t n ig h t, b u t fell asle e p on th e m o u n tain s, and th ey 'v e
changed my gun, and ev ery th in g 's changed h e re , and I am changed to o
I
fo r a c e rta in ty . W orthy frien d , do m e a sm all p a rtic u la r fa v o r—ju st
b ite my fin g er. j
VEDDER. Suppose th e re can be no harm in le ttin g th e old fellow^
i
have his w him sies. A b ite! (B ites fin g er.) I
R IP. Be blow ed if I am d ead fo r m y feelin g s a re deadly alive!
His te e th a re as sh arp as m y w ife's to n g u e. Oh be joyful! I am alive!
Why N icholas V edder, dont you know your old frien d R ip Van W inkle?
R ip Van W inkle, do you u n d erstan d ?
VEDDER. You R ip Van W inkle? Sham e oh sh am e fo r a m an o f
y o u r y ears to m ake such a fa lse a sse rtio n .
R IP. W hat do you m ean? A ynt I m yself? A ynt I R ip Van W inkle?
VEDDER. Oh no, I guess—b ut if re a lly w h at you p re te n d , I know
th e w ay to find you o u t. (Brings jug from ta b le .) T h ere, w et your w histle;
drink I say.
R IP. R eally , I sipped enough la s t n ig h t, b u t a drop in th e m orning
h ave alw ays found v ery b e n eficia l in re c tify in g th e dollurum s, and when
o ffe re d by a frien d to o . N icholas V edder, h e re 's your good h e alth , and
your fam ily 's, and m ay you a ll live long and p ro sp er. (D rinks.)
VEDDER. It is! It is m y frien d R ip Van W inkle! B ut w here h a v e 1
you been a ll th is long tim e?
R IP. Long tim e ? Why I to o k a nap la s t n ig h t on th e C atskiH
M ountains and on w aking th is m orning find m yself and all th ings round:
m e tran sm o g rified . Pon m y soul, I c a n 't m ake it o u t—and th is fin e housei
i
w hich stan d s in th e v ery p lace—by gosh I know it—w h ere you and I have
■ ' 321]
so o fte n bibboed w ith our frien d R ory. B ut w here is R ory, w ith his "alw ays
an ey e to business"? j
VEDDER. Why he has been d ead th e se e ig h te e n y e ars. 1
j R IP. E ig h teen years! E ig h teen fid d lestick s! S tu ff—nonsense!j
1285 How you a re cram m ing! Why he w as alive la s t n ig h t and as usual had
t
an ey e to business. And my nephew G u sta ffe ? !
i
i
VEDDER. Is one of th e m ost ex p erien c e d co m m an d ers in th e
I
U nion.
R IP. The devil he is! Blow m e th is is a po zer. C om m and! A
Il290 boy! And m y d a u g h ter, Low enna? i
i
VEDDER. The darling, d elig h t an d idol o f all.
»
R IP. D arn m e if I can m ake h ead or ta il o f th is ta le . And—oh:
h e re com es th e choaker! M ust o u t w ith it. And my rib—th a t is D am e
W inkle?
1295 VEDDER. She’s gone d ead too!
R IP. T h at in fo rm atio n I can b e a r w ith m anly fo rtitu d e . Lord,
be p raised fo r all his m ercies! Tis an ill wind th a t blow s nobody good.
W ell, she has paid th e d eb t o f n a tu re , so I've a load o f ill n a tu re rubbed
o ff my back. B ut I say , w h at a tra n sm o g rific a tio n is h e re . (Sees sign.)
1300 Why tw as th e sign of G eorge th e Third w hen I w en t to sleep .
VEDDER. The a lte ra tio n of th e sign is no bad sign o f w h at has;
been done w hilst you sle p t. W hat, n o t know G en eral W ashington! Egad,,
he has m ade h im self p r e tty w ell known.
R IP. T ruly, th e re was a shoot o f th a t n am e serving under G eneral,
I
1305 B raddock. I re m e m b e r o fte n h earin g o f him b e fo re I w ent to sleep . !
322
VEDDER. W ashington h a sn 't been a sle e p if you h av e. Egad, his
en em ies alw ays found him aw ake, and th e shoot o f whom you speak,
i
has p la n te d th e tr e e o f lib e rty in a soil w hich all th e pow ers o f th e old
I
w orld w ill n ev er be ab le to u p ro o t. |
I
1310 R IP. W ell, h e re 's G en eral W ashington's good h e a lth and his fam ily's
i
and m ay th ey all liv e long and p ro sp er. (D rinks.) j
VEDDER. We have an e le c tio n going fo rw ard . Som e o f th e v o te rs
a re com ing th is w ay. S te p in doors and 111 join you p re se n tly ,
i R IP. E lectio n s and v o ters! I do n t com prehend. Am I aw ake or
1315 asleep ? (D rinks.) I'm aw ake! Tis e x c e lle n t brandy. H ere's your good
I :
j h e alth and your fam ily 's and m ay you a ll liv e long and p ro sp er. (E xit
I
drinking.) ;
VEDDER. Who could have supposed th a t m y old frie n d R ip Van
W inkle should re a p p e a r, a t such an im p o rta n t perio d to o . H ere com e
1320 th e e le c to rs and I m u st h ave an eye to business, as my p re d e ce sso r used
to say.
(E n ter CLAUSEN, GORGIN and CITIZENS.) j
l
1
CLAUSEN. I sh all v o te in th e K n ick erb o ck er in te re s t. j
A VILLAGER. So sh all I, fo r K n ick erb o ck er is a d eserv in g m an.
I
jl325 VEDDER. Y es, he stru g g led m anfully w ith th e w orld; y e t was|
n ev er known to drive a hard b arg ain w ith th e poor and th e p a tie n t handj
of p ersev erin g in d u stry alone has m ade him ric h . He shall have my firm
su p p o rt.
CLAUSEN. B ut, N icholas V edder, I v o te th a t we ta k e c a re o f
1330 ourselves in not being dry v o te rs, and th a t you bring a jorum to d rin k
th e popular c a n d id a te 's h e a lth . I
!
1335
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1 3 4 5
1 3 5 0
1355
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(VEDDER calls a w a ite r who brings on liquor.) j
SONG. I
Th' e le c tiv e fran ch ise claim s our v o te
N or c o u rtly pow er d ire c ts o u r ch o ice,
But h o n est m an and tru e ;
One to his co u n try 's w eal d e v o te , i
Is he who shall com m and our v o te —
Tis K n ick erb o ck er’s due.
(ALL sing and drink. C U RTA IN .)
SCENE IV.
(In terio r o f K n ickerbocker's house. LOWENNA and GUSTAFFE
discovered.)
LOW ENNA. You have now h e ard a ll, G u sta ffe , and can judge
w h e th er it w ill p ru d e n t or not to un ite our fa te s .
G U STA FFE. I’m a blunt sailo r, Low enna. D on't le t loss o f fo rtu n e
g riev e you. I have enough o f b a lla st fo r b o th . You a re th e com pass th a t
d ire c ts to th e p ro p er p o rt, and should th is landshark com e
ab o ard —(HERMAN e n te rs L.) A p riv a te er! W hat th e devil do you w ant?
HERM AN. Humph! Is th is th e usu al m anner o f your answ ering
a sa lu ta tio n ?
G U STA FFE. No; we h o ist our flag , run out our guns, and run ab o ard
I
and c le a r decks in a tw inkling.
HERM AN. Sir, I'll p re te n d n o t to u n d erstan d your n a u tic a l jarg o n .
I cam e h e re on d u ty .
G USTA FFE. Duty! I've alw ays b een used to it—did my d u ty as
cabin boy b e fo re th e m ast and as m a te , and now en d eav o r to do du ty
a s c a p ta in in th e se rv ic e o f th e U n ited S ta te s —th e p ro u d est occupationj
»
th a t m an can b o a st. |
1360
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1380
HERMAN. I came not to inquire into your merits, but on affairs
|
to me o f m ore im p o rta n c e . ,
(KNICK ERBO CK ER rushes in—n ot observing HERM AN.) i
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. S tan d o u t o f th e way! W here's Lowenna?,
W here's A lice? G u sta ffe , my boy, I'm e le c te d —unanim ously e le c te d '
as m em ber o f co n g ress. (Sees H erm an.) W hat m ay be yo u r p leasu re,
sir? |
i
HERMAN. I com e to claim th is lady's fo rtu n e or h e r han d . j
I
G U STAFFE. Paw s o ff, or I'll po u r in a bro ad sid e. F o rtu n e! Take!
h e r fo rtu n e if th e law a u th o riz e s you. T'w ill be spoil such as pirates!
I
e x tra c t from th e d e fe n ce le ss.
HERM AN. The in so len ce o f th is individual is b u t a sam ple of
his p ro fession. Mr K nick erb o ck er, to you I address m yself. L earn that;
th e judge o f th e d is tric t w ill th is day a rriv e and give ju d g em en t on my
ap p eal, and th u s I c ite you. (P resen ts p ap er.) The cau se w ill be sp eed ily
b e fo re th e co u rt.
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Oh, v ery w ell, sir—and you fondly suppose
w e'll kick th e b u ck et; b u t th e re shall be bowls for ru b b ers, as som ebody
th a t I know has it.
HERM AN. My rig h ts a re d e fin itiv e , and I q u estio n th e w hole
J
w orld to c o n tro v e rt th e m . We shall m e et b e fo re th e trib u n a l, th en presum ej
t
to co n ten d lo n g er, if you d a re . (E xit.)
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. T 'w ill be d iffic u lt, no doubt; b ut w e'll have
a w rangle for th e bone, as th e dogs have it. T h ere w ill be no curs found
in our p a rty , I'll be sw orn. i
i
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LOWENNA. My d e a r U ncle, w hat is to be done in th is em erg en cy ? j
1385
1390
1395
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1405
325
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. Done! Y our fo rtu n e is done fo r; b u t if you
e v er w an t a c e n t w hilst I have one, m ay I be se n t to th e devil, th a t's
all. I
t
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GU STAFFE. Bravo! N unkey K nickerbocker! You a re no blind
p ilo t. A w ake to b re a k ers and quicksands, K nick erb o ck er.
i
KNICK ERBO CK ER. K nickerbocker! The H onorable Mr|
i
?
K n ick erb o ck er, if you p lease. I’m now a m em b er o f con g ress, and curse!
m e if I'd change my dignified s ta tio n a s re p re se n ta tiv e o f an independent!
people, fo r th a t o f th e p ro u d est p o te n ta te who holds su p rem acy by'
c o rru p tio n or th e bayonet! j
CU RTA IN . j
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}
r
SCENE V. •
I
(The C o u rt H ouse. An arm c h a ir a t th e back, in fro n t o f w hich
is a la rg e ta b le co v ered w ith b aize. On e ac h side a g allery . On th e rig h t
o f th e ta b le a re ch airs. JU D G E is d isco v ered s e a te d in arm ch air c e n te r.
CITIZENS fill th e g a lle rie s. CLAUSEN, GORGIN on th e L. in fro n t.)
JU D G E. (E xam ining d o cu m en ts.) W hat! B ut a single cau se fori
ad ju dication! This augurs fav o rab ly o f th e d o m estic tra n q u ility w hich'
j
p erv ad es th e d is tric t. May it be an ex am p le to p o ste rity th e re w herej
f
m u tu al good w ill e x ists, p ro sp e rity is e v e r a sojourner. The cau se onj
w hich w e have to e n te r is th a t o f H erm an Van Slous.
HERM AN. (E n terin g L.) H erm an Van Slous is h ere, sir, to su p p o rt
his claim s.
(LOWENNA e n te rs on th e arm of KNICK ERBO CK ER, ALICE|
on th e arm o f G U STA FFE.) 1
1410
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i
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1 4 2 5
1430
326
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. And w e a re h e re , sir, as resp o n d en ts, to
c o n fro n t you, nor doubt th e ju stic e o f our cau se.
JU D G E. Mr K nick erb o ck er, I beg to c o n g ra tu la te you on your
1
d eserv ed e le c tio n . The public have ju stly a p p re c ia te d . |
K NICK ERBO CK ER. S ir, I am all th an k s fo r your fla tte rin g '
co m p lim en t. I
i
JU D G E. Be p leased to le t your lad ies ta k e s e a ts . (They sit R.)
i
HERM AN. And now, sir, I presu m e tis tim e to e n te r my cause.,
T w enty y ears have elap sed sin ce th is c o n tra c t. This bond w as signed!
by th e fa th e r o f th a t lady, by w hich h e r or h e r fo rtu n e w ere m ade mine.;
Be p leased to p eru se. (P re se n ts paper.)
JU D G E. (R eading.) "We, D errick Van Slous, b u rg o m a ster, and;
R ip Van W inkle, desirious o f providing fo r th e p ro sp e rity o f our o ffspring,
i
do h ereb y m u tu ally a g re e th a t H erm an Van Slous and Low enna Van W inkle
shall be u n ited on th e dem and o f e ith e r and w hosoever of th o se c o n tra cte d ,
t
fa ils in fu lfillin g th e a g re e m e n t, sh all fo r fe it th e ir fo rtu n e to th e partyi
I
com plaining. j
R ip Van Winkle
D errick Van Slous." I
B ut h e re ’s a co d icil. "Should th e said R ip Van W inkle th in k fit to annul
th is c o n tra c t w ithin tw e n ty y ears and a day, he sh all be a t full liberty!
to do so. ;
D errick Van Slous."
The do cu m en t is p e rfe c t in e v ery fo rm . R ip Van W inkle, tis s ta te d , is
d e fu n c t. Is th e re any one p re se n t to prove his sig n a tu re ? ,
i
HERM AN. Mr K nick erb o ck er, if he d are be h o n est, w ill a tte s t it.
1435
I
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i
i
1 4 4 5
i
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1 4 5 5
1460
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. D are be h o n est, sir! P resum e you to q u estio n
my v e ra c ity ? How w as th a t bond a tta in e d ?
HERM AN. Why should you ask? T he la te Rip Van W inkle, anxious
fo r th e p ro sp e rity o f his o ffsp rin g , th ough to o in d o len t to provide for|
th e ir su b sista n ce , p ersu ad ed my d e ce a se d fa th e r to form th is a llia n ce . ^
K N ICK ERBO CK ER. It’s a lie!
HERM AN. Van W inkle w as a d issip a te d , idle fellow and—
GU STAFFE. (S tartin g up.) D issipated! Idle! R e p e a t th a t;
opprobrium on th e b e st o f m en and th is sw ord—(D raw ing it.) Villain!
Base—base shark! D efend th y self!
JU D G E. R e stra in th is v io len ce. A c o u rt o f ju stic e m u st not be
sw ayed by such p ro ceedings.
HERM AN. B ehold, sir, a p ic tu re o f th e ir g e n eral e ffro n te ry . In
a public trib u n a l to th re a te n th o se, who, in pleading th e ir ow n rig h ts,
b u t a d v o ca te th e cau se o f ju stic e .
GUSTAFFE. (To judge.) Y our pard o n , sir; b ut w hen an individual
im pugns th e re p u ta tio n o f th e kinderd o f an A m erican o ffic e r, th e sw ord
w ill o u t o f th e scab b ard d e sp ite o f p ru d en ce. |
JU D G E . Mr K nick erb o ck er, you have been c ite d as w itn ess: have
you any know ledge o f th is sig n atu re? j
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. M ost c e rta in ly , sir; fo r I w as a s e c re t w itness;
to th e sig n atu re —a so rt o f c ab in e t co u n cillo r, sh u t up am o n g st foul lin en ,
w ith o u t o p p o rtu n ity o f saying nay to th e frau d w hich w as p ra c tisin g .
i
Y es, sir, I beheld th a t sw indling d o cu m en t signed by R ip Van Winkle.!
(A side.) Poor Low enna! Tis a fe a rfu l c o n firm a tio n to th e e , b u t tru th
m ust n o t be sw ayed by in te re s t.
1465
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> 1 4 8 0
1485
328
LOWENNA. (Sinking on KNICKERBOCKER'S sho u ld er.) A ll my
I
hopes vanish—b leak and d re a ry is th e p e rsp ec tiv e ! (
I
HERM AN. (A side.) A t len g th th e triu m p h ’ s m ine. (Advancing,
to her.) Now lady, you have b rie f tim e fo r decision—th y hand or thyj
in h e rite n c e . |
l
LOWENNA. My hand, never! W elcom e w ere e v ery p riv a tio n to!
i
union w ith one so base!
GUSTA FFE. T ake h er fo rtu n e, d asta rd ! Thank heaven, we boast,
su ffic ie n t to m ake th e voyage o f life glid e sm oothly. C h eer th e e , my'
own Low enna, fo r in w ealth o r in p o v erty th o u a r t equally d e a r to a h e a rt
th a t w ill n ev er be sw ayed by any squall o f a d v ersity .
JU D G E. T w en ty y e ars and a day is th e period w ithin w hich tim e
th e c o n tra c t could have been can celled by th e n e g a tu r o f R ip Van W inkle,
and as he re n d e red no opposition during th is len g th en ed tim e —
HERM AN. Tis n ot very probable, sir, th a t he w ill a lte r his
in te n tio n s by ap p earin g to do so w ithin th e few b rie f hours th a t co m p lete
th e day. C an th e g ra v e give up its in m a te s? No, no! Who d are p re te n d
to dispute my rig h ts? The only one who could do so has been d ead th ese
tw e n ty y ears? 1
(C hord o f m usic. E n ter R IP, follow ed by VEDDER.)
R IP. It's a lie! H e's aliv e, to his own s a tis fa c tio n and your m ishap.
A live to c an c e l th a t bond, and sn a tc h both his d a u g h te r and h er fortunej
from your fangs. J
LOWENNA. T h at voice! My fa th e r! My e v er d e a r fa th e r! (In
his arm s.)
ALL. RIP VAN WINKLE!
d Z S
R IP. Y es, Pm R ip Van W inkle, su re enough. F or whom else do(
you ta k e m e?
HERM AN. You R ip Van W inkle! Van Winkle com e b ack a f te r
I
1
1490 such a lap se o f tim e! Im possible! I
i
R IP. N othing a t a ll im possible in anything R ip Van Winkle
u n d e rta k es; and though all o f you a re in th e sam e sto ry th a t he has been'
I
gone so long, he is n e v erth ele ss b ack soon enough to your so rro w , my
chap.
1495 HERM AN. C ozening c h ea t! B ut such an a tte m p te d im p osition
i is w orthy o f th e p a rty . Is th e re any one h e re th a t w ill have th e hardihood
i
i
| o f pronouncing th is im p o ste r to be th e individual w hose id e n tity he would
assum e?
j VEDDER. Such id e n tity I can s u b s ta n tia te w ith s a fe co n scien ce.
!
1500 This individual is o f a v e rity R ip Van W inkle—
j KN ICK ERBO CK ER. R ip Van W inkle! A stonishing!
LOW ENNA. Why, yes, yes! Do you n ot reco g n ize fa th e r, d e ar
U ncle?
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. (A side.) N ot I, fa ith . Why who is th is old
1505 M ethuselan th a t th e y wish to sm uggle in to th e fam ily? j
HERM AN. (To VEDDER.) B ase e ffro n te ry ! You, sirra h , occupy|
a hom e on my e s ta te ! j
VEDDER. Y our e s ta te ! W ait till you g e t it b efo re you grin.
HERM AN. M ark w ell, your te n u re is in secu re. As soon as th e
i
1510 judge's a rb itra tio n is pronounced, you sh all have in tim a tio n o f th e m an n er1
i
in w hich your p re s e n t co n d u ct is re g a rd e d . Look to it and p re p a re fo r
co nsequences; You w ill have to c le a r o u t--
1515
1 5 2 0
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1535
VEDDER. Oh I am p e rfe c tly a w a re o f your good w ishes. C lear
o u t indeed! Too m uch fro th on th e to p o f th e jug, as my p red ecesso r
R ory used to say w hen cu sto m ers co m p lain ed o f w an t o f m easu re. Y our
e s ta te it n ev er w ill b e; ta k e th e w ord o f N icholas V edder.
JU D G E. T h ere a re m any a n c ie n t s e ttle r s now in c o u rt, and if
th is m an is R ip Van W inkle as he a ss e rts , su rely he m ay be reco g n ized
by som e o f th em .
R IP. Oh I am w ell known to m any here! Bless you, th e ir fa c e s
a re q u ite fa m ilia r though th e y m ay n o t a t th e m om ent reco g n ize m ine.
H ere's frien d C lausen, fo r in sta n ce .
CLAUSEN. I know nothing a t all bo u t you, w h a tev e r; no; as I'm
an ho n est m an and hope to be saved.
CITIZENS. No. No. T here is no one h e re know s you. How should
w e?
R IP. (A side.) D ear me! G one b u t fo r a single n ig h t and thus
to be fo rg o tte n . C an 't fo rg e t m yself though. I am R ip Van Winkle an d 1
n o t dream in g . Zounds, w as th e dam e aliv e she'd m ake m e aw ake to thej
tru th p re tty soon. K nick erb o ck er, you know m e?
KN ICK ERBO CK ER. (R ecoiling.) N ot I, upon m y soul. Why, A lice,
who in th e n am e o f w o n derm ent is th is a n c ie n t p a tria rc h ? He R ip Van
W inkle!—as m uch resem b lin g him as I am to a m an in a consum ption.
R IP. (A side.) K nickerbocker disow n me! This is th e c u t direct]
and th e w o rst c u t o f all. Tis stra n g e , m ore th a n stra n g e , th a t a few
i
hours should have re n d e re d him such a porpoise, and given m e such an:
ap pendage. (T ouching b eard .) H ave th e d w arfs w ith whom I re v e lled
la s t n ig h t, b ew itch ed and sen t m e back am o n g st m y f r a te rn ity to be
1540
1545
j
1550
I
I
i
i
1555
I
1560
33lj
a m an disow ned—d isc re d ite d even in th e very p lace o f my n a tiv ity ? There:
I
m ay be so m eth in g in th a t! Punished m e fo r my fo rm er fo llies, b u t th e|
I
p en an ce is alm o st to o p ainful fo r th is poor old care-w o rn b rain . (W eeps.)|
|
B ut I am w hat I re a lly am , nor w ill R ip Van W inkle give up th e ghost!
w h at e v e r a tte m p ts be m ade to lay him ; b e darn ed if he does, Low enna! !
LOWENNA. D ear, d e a r fa th e r. Why G u sta ffe —know you n o t?
GUSTA FFE. The reco g n itio n is d iffic u lt—I am m ost dubious and
y e t, a s e c re t in sp iratio n —d e ar, d e ar U n cle. (Taking his hand.)
R IP. Why G u staffe! Lauks, how th e strip p lin g has sh o t up in one
n ig h t. J u s t lik e th e sapling g ain st w hich I placed my gun la s t night!;
E verything's in th e grow ing o rd e r h e re .
K N ICKERBOCKER. One night! W hat's th e old chap's b rains running
on. One night!
VEDDER. (W hispering to K NICKERBOCKER.) Tis our long ab sen t,
frien d , be assu red . H av en 't you gum ption to find him out as I did?
K N ICKERBOCKER. G uess as how , ta k e th e h in t. A lice—t h a t 1
is, Mrs
JU D G E. Mr K nickerbocker, tis w ith re g re t I s ta te th a t th e se
pro ceed in g s w ear an a ir o f m y stery w hich is fa r from re p u ta b le to one
in your e le v a te d s ta tio n . The eyes o f th o se who send an individual in to
a u th o rity a re e v e r v ig ilan t, and if sw erving from th e tr u s t im posed, th e,
I
vicious exam ple beco m es m ore fo rcib le. |
K N ICKERBOCKER. And w hen an e le c te d re p re se n ta tiv e o f th e
A m erican people is cau g h t trip p in g in his d u ty to his c o n stitu e n ts m ay
he be kicked down by th e firs t h o n est c itiz e n who stu m b les on th e v a rle t.
332!
1565 Sir, my aim th ro u g h life has been to a c t th e p lain , th e ho n est m an. I|
b rave th e to ngue o f cen su re to throw th e s lig h te st h in t on my p riv ate'
or public life —th a t th is is m y long lo st re la tiv e , you have my assu ran ce—
HERMAN. Sir, you b ut delay in pronouncing ju d g m en t. To youj
t
and all, tis visible, th a t e v ery su b terfu g e and cunning th a t a r t devises
1570 has been em ployed to r e ta rd th e possession o f th o se rig h ts w hich com m on
ju stic e would have long sin ce a rb itra te d .
i
JU D G E. My decisio n m ust be pronounced—
R IP. (A dvancing.) B eg pardon, sir, b u t b e fo re such is given, p e rm it
m e to have a few w ords c h a t w ith th is young m an. (A side.) Words w hich
1575 m ay probe his m em ory as w ell as g ra titu d e . Mr H erm an, do you rem em ber^
th a t w hen sc a rc e ly eig h t y ears o f age you le f t your fa th e r's house a tr u a n t1
boy—w en t birding in th e woods and w as b ew ild ered in th e m azes—a n d 1
I
th a t num erous persons w ent in q u est o f you, n o t o u t o f any p a rtia lity
to you, my chap, b u t in com passion to th e ag o n ized p a re n ts. Am ong
1580 th ose who v o lu n te e red in th e sea rc h w as R ip Van W inkle. Eh? Do you!
i
re c o lle c t?
HERM AN. R ip Van W inkle. Y es, he w as o f th e num ber. Rip;
Van W inkle, tru e . 1
R IP. And said R ip Van W inkle, a f te r a tro u b leso m e ram b le,
1585 d iscovered you sleep in g b e n ea th a w illow tr e e . T h ere w as d an g er in
th e tr a il fo r a h a lf fam ish ed w olf w as prow ling n e a r th e sp o t—no aid
sav e H eaven's and R ip's to sn a tc h you from d e stru c tio n —he rushed fo rw ard , |
I
p reserv ed your life! Is th is n ot tru e ?
I
HERM AN. It is, why should it be denied? R ip, my fa th e r-in -la w
1590 th a t should have b een , th en firs t began his g racio u s w orks o f b enevolence.
1 5 9 5
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1 6 0 5
1 6 1 0
1615
333
KNICK ERBO CK ER. The c irc u m sta n c e is in m y b rain 's led g er.
A hard stru g g le poor R ip had in p reserv in g th e urchin! He was dangerously
I
w ounded in th e a ffra y . !
HERMAN. T ru e, th e w ild an im al m ark ed him sev erely .
R IP. Do you re c o lle c t on w h at p a rt o f th e fram e th o se m ark es
w ere le ft? (HERM AN shakes head.) You d ont, aye? Ah, th e u n g ra te fu l
have rig h t shallow m em ories! Is th e re any one p re sen t re c o lle c ts in w hat
p a rt o f th e body poor R ip w as la c e ra te d ? Do any o f you re m e m b e r w here
he w as wounded?
VEDDER. Why yes; m eth in k s—b u t tis such a plaguey long w hile
ago; T'w as on— t'w as on—yes! Tw as on his w rist. ;
!
CLAUSEN. Y es. R ip had a m ark on his w rist, m ethinks. On his
w rist.
HERM AN. Liars! Im posters! T he leg ib le m ark R ip Van Winklej
bore even w hen he so m y steriously d isap p eared , was on his fo reh ead ! •
R IP. Tis tru e! Was it lik e th is? (R em oving h air from his fo re h e a d .)1
Was it like th is? (C hord.) Now, am I lo n g er doubted? (G eneral!
asto n ish m en t.)
ALL. Tis Rip Van Winkle! Yes! Yes! Tis him! Tis him!
VEDDER. (To HERM AN.) T h ere, ta k e y o u rself o u t o f co u rt.
You now find you have no c o n tro l o v er V edder's 'G eorge W ashington H o tel.'
G eo rg e W ashington allow s no one to crow over him ; and d am m e, if you!
shall crow o v er his re p re se n ta tiv e in th e p ic tu re . D on't reck o n your
chickens b e fo re th e y 're h a tch e d , my m an. Y ou'll have to c le a r o u t.
HERM AN. (A side.) R ip Van W inkle alive and I am dead to fo rtu n e
and fam e! The fiends have m a rre d my b rig h te st p ro sp ects! The
e x p e c ta tio n is b lig h ted and nothing le f t b u t p o v erty , m isery and despair!;
(R ushing o ff w ringing his hands in agony.) |
I
KNICK ERBO CK ER. May e v ery sco u n d rel m e et similar^
:1620 d isap p o in tm en t. I say , N icholas, do you m ark —
VEDDER. H e’s c le a re d out.
I
JU D G E. L et m e c o n g ra tu la te you, lady, on th is happy d iscovery.
And you, sir, on your tim e ly re s to ra tio n . The a ffa irs w ere so e n tan g led
in your sto ry th a t only your o p portune a p p e a ra n c e could have p re v e n te d
1625 a d iffe re n t re s u lt. You have my good w ishes.
R IP. T hank you, sir. Now I sh all be ab le to s e t m yself dow n,
te ll my s to rie s, ta k e my glass, and to a ll th o se who have p a tie n c e to,
i
liste n to my w onderful dream on th e C atsk ills, I'll drink th e ir health;
an d --(S tepping fo rw ard .) L adies and g en tlem en ! H ere's your good h ealth!
1630 And your fam ily's! And your fu tu re fa m ilie s' good health! And m ay you;
a ll liv e long and p ro sp er. i
CURTAIN
i
i
335
E d i t o r i a l E m e n d a t i o n s
22 shore!] shore!"
44 now I do n o t. (D rinking.) T h e re fo re I can be] now I do not (drinking)
th e re fo re I can be
53 c arele ss,] c a re le ss
60 know] known
61 G ets] G et's
65 B eelzebub] B elxebub
66 persona;] p erso n a;;
69 do.] do?
70 neck] nack
76 em ptied] en p tie d
80 d eterm in ed ] d e tirm in e d
86 question.] q uestion?
j89 in te s ta te ] in te r s ta te
92 livelihood] livlihood
94 re c o lle c t] re c c o lle c t
120 you] your
125 ugly] ugle I
131 th a n ]th e n
148 w ench] w inch
153 A lice run!] A lice Run!
159 one o f th e] one th e
164 VEDDER] ta b le
168 d e term in a tio n ] d e tirm in a tio n |
173 se rg e a n t] sa rg e a n t
177 th a n ] th e n I
178 to o m ed ] to o n ed ; In K e rr’ s version th e w ord is "toon" and it is '
; also so in scrib ed on th e so u rce d o cu m en t, line 858 th is te x t. j
189 fam ily's] fam ilies; This to a s t is th e running joke in th e play. While
"fam ilies" in th e so u rce docum ent could im ply a p lu ral in te n tio n
and th u s be am en d ed to "fam ilies'," th e K err version has it alw ays
as "fam ily's."
203 (Fills R ip's cup.) T ill yo u 're dry,] T ill y o u 're dry, (fills R ip's cup)
228 H ere's] H eres
254 pursued] p ersu ed
263 upon] upnon
306 te m p e r . . . Odds] te m p e r—( th e y laugh)— Odds
310 by] byt
368 lo o se ]lo se
391 clien ts] c le n ts
392 is] in
409 P ed lar's] p ed lers
417 you] your
439 arm s.)] arm a)
450 w orld] wold
513 cupboard] cupboar
559 up] uo
572 A lice,] A lice
573 tim e . Wish] tim e , wish
627 And] and j
656 C onfound] confound
718 m issusses] m issueses
747 re p eatin g :] re p e a tin g . .
,748 is heard] in h eard
772 shows] show
857 aw ake] aw akw
859 H ollands—] H ollands—,
861 for] fo t
863 safely ] s a fe lf
1866
1
aw ake] aw ay
]869 th a n ]th e n
! 884 n o t.] n o t. .
894 stra n g e ,] stra n g e
916 Pardon] P ardeon
933 m anner.] m an n er. .
938 th a n ]th e n
939 is] us
>953 she] s8m ay
969 dice] d ic e f
970 vessel] v essal
982 hail.] hail".
1042 th a n ]th e n
1141 a g reeab le] a g re ab le
you.] you. .
1145 consequence] consequw nce
1188 Third] th ird
11203 settlin g ] su ttlin g
1223 them !] th em ?
4245 possible?] possible.
1249 d eterm in ed ] d etirn m in e d
1269 out] our
1274 fam ily's] fam ilies
1293 com es] com e's
1300 Third] th ird
1307 enem ies] ebem ies
1320 to business] to , business
1322 GORGIN] GORGIUS
1420 "We] We
1427 Slous."] Slous.
1431 Slous."] Slous.
1437 la te ] L ate
1462 vanish] evanish
1463-64 (A dvancing to h er.) Now lady,] Now lady, (advancing to her)
1464 th y hand] th e y hand
1469 su ffic ie n t] su ffic e n t
voyage] voayage
1535 than] th en
1537 ap p endage. (Touching beard.] ap p en d ag e (touching b eard)
1539 n a tiv ity ? ] n a tiv ity . . .
1543 a tte m p ts be m ade] a tte m p ts m ade be m ade
1589 fa th e r-in -la w ] fa th e r in law
1596 w ere] w here
337
1606 fo re h e a d ]fo re h a d
1611 H o tel.'] H o tel'.
1620 disap p o in tm en t] d isappontm ent
1630 fam ily's] fam ilies
1631 prosper] p o rsp er
~33f?
CHAPTER NINE
i
A BIBLIOGRAPHICAL DESCRIPTION OF j
I
HAMLIN GARLAND’ S PLAY MANUSCRIPTS i
i
T h ere a re sev e ra l reaso n s why a biblio g rap h ical d e sc rip tio n o f H am lin
G arland's play m an u scrip ts m ay prove useful. F irs t, only one o f G arlan d 's six teen
j
plays, U nder th e W heel (1890), has e v er been published. The re s e a rc h e r who
w ishes to le a rn m ore ab o u t G arland's d ram a c a re e r m ust d eal p rim arily w ith
th e o rig in al d o cum ents d escrib ed h ere.
i
Second, m any o f th e e x ta n t m an u scrip ts a re in co m p lete, and th e po ssib ility
rem ain s th a t frag m e n ts m ay y e t tu rn up th a t could be m atch ed to th e m a te ria ls
|describ ed h ere.
1
j T hird, and perh ap s m ost sig n ific a n t, in th e field o f A m erican play
publishing th e re has been no e d ito ria l re se a rc h on th e relatio n sh ip b etw een
i
.the fo rm a t o f published ed itio n s o f plays and th e ir so u rce d o cu m en ts. We have
! !
a rriv e d to d ay a t fa irly rigid conventions o f play publishing: c h a r a c te r cues in1
jeap ital le tte r s follow ed by a period, sta g e d ire c tio n s w ithin p a re n th e se s, and
i
^dialogue not in q u o tes. B ut we have little idea o f how or why th e se conventions
developed. Indeed, looking a t th e d escrip tio n s h ere, one finds th a t Garland;
used m any v aria tio n s in fo rm a t, none o f w hich coincide w ith p re se n t publishingj
p ra c tic e . This m a tte r ap p aren tly w as also o f g re a t co n cern to H ow ells who|
w hen G arland se n t him a copy o f th e published U nder th e W heel responded:
"O ne thing, ty p o g rap h ically , how ever, if you use q u o tatio n m arks in your dialo g u e1
l
I
you don't w ant p a re n th esis to o . I in v en ted th a t w ay o f p rin tin g d ra m a , to g e ti
rid o f p a ren th esis" (6 Ju n e 1890 #2255). H ow ells's in vention w as n o t a c c e p te d
by play publishers nor was G arland's own use o f q u o tatio n m arks around dialogue,
b u t w e do n ot y e t know w hy. As a s ta r t to w ard g a th erin g th e b ib lio g rap h ical
339|
in fo rm atio n n eed ed to begin an sw ering th is q u estio n , a bibliographical categoryj
| F
e n title d "F o rm at" is added h e re . It describ es how G arland in d ic a ted his c h a ra c te r
cues, s ta g e d ire c tio n s, and dialogue.
F inally, th is is th e firs t fo rm al b ib lio g rap h ical d escrip tio n o f any p a rt
of th e volum inous H am lin G arland P ap ers, so it is long sin ce tim e th a t a s ta r t
i
D e m ade to w ard a d e ta ile d re c o rd o f so im p o rta n t a re so u rce .
*
C ita tio n num bers fo r e ac h m an u scrip t co rrespond to th o se used in th e
i
Lloyd A. A rvidson ch ec k list o f th e H am lin G arlan d P ap ers a t th e U n iv ersity
i
(
o f S outhern C alifo rn ia . Item #217 in th e A rvidson c h ec k list is an inclusive
}
jcitation fo r u n id en tified m iscellaneous m an u scrip t frag m e n ts. T hese fra g m e n ts
!
h ave been se p a ra te d in to th re e d isc re te e n trie s, #217a, b, c, and d e scrib ed
!
I
individually. W ith th e ex cep tio n o f c ita tio n #208c, a m an u scrip t held by th e
G arland fam ily , all m an u scrip ts a re held in th e A m erican L ite ra tu re S p ecial
p o lle c tio n , D oheny L ib rary , U n iversity of S ou th ern C alifo rn ia.
One w ill find th a t th e se d escrip tio n s a re a t v a ria n ce w ith som e of th e
in fo rm atio n found in th e A rvidson c h ec k list. A rvidson w as rig h tly concerned'
! i
w ith p u ttin g all o f th e G arland pap ers in o rd e r, ra th e r th an providing co m p lete
ohysical d escrip tio n s o f each individual d o cu m en t. So d escrip tio n s h e re a re
m ore m eticu lo u s in d escrib in g th e co llatio n o f a d o cu m en t. F or ex am p le, Arvidson,
| I
o fte n re lie d upon G arlan d ’s page num bers fo r a co u n t o f leav es, w hich would
n o t a cc o u n t fo r m issing le av e s. A lso, blank le av e s w ere d isreg ard ed , as th e y
a re n o t d isreg ard ed h e re . In som e cases, u n id e n tifie d frag m e n ts have now been-
| i
m a tc h ed to e x istin g m an u scrip ts. So fo r th e tw e n ty -e ig h t c ita tio n s h ere, th e s e 1
d escrip tio n s should su p ersed e th e A rvidson c h ec k list.
In g en eral, th e se b ib lio g rap h ical d e scrip tio n s conform to th e fo rm at
em ployed in th e series o f C alen d a rs o f A m erican L ite ra ry M anuscripts published
by th e Ohio S ta te U n iv ersity P ress. (The published c ale n d a rs fo r th e papers
|
o f H art C ran e and U pton S in clair have been co n su lted .) B ecause th e num ber
o f m an u scrip ts included h e re a re re la tiv e ly few , th e se d e sc rip tio n s a re som ew hat
m ore discu rsiv e in th e in te re s ts o f conveying as m uch in fo rm atio n as possible.
One should p a rtic u la rly b e a r in m ind h ere: 1) le a f size m e asu rem en ts a re liste d
Iwidth x h eig h t 2) re fe re n c e s to le a f num bers are alw ays to th e o rd e r o f th e
jleaf in th e c o lla te d m an u scrip t w ith o u t re g a rd to any page num bers 3) since
i
■fragments # 2 1 7a, b, c, b e a r no title , th e firs t and la s t co m p lete se n te n c e s a re
[transcribed fo r th e purposes o f id e n tific a tio n . >
j The d atin g o f m an u scrip ts has been based on in te rn a l ev id en ce and th e
'ex tern al evidence o f le tte r s and n otebooks. The com position o f a ll m an u scrip ts
can be reliab ly p laced w ithin th e given y e ar. The only m an u scrip t w hose d atin g
is m ore u n c e rta in th a n th a t is Up th e C ooly (#215).
N o t a t i o n a l A b b r e v i a t i o n s
a. ms. = autograph manuscript
J c. = circa (as to date)
| I
C om p. = C om position (as to d ate)
i
f.l. = flush le ft I
jHG = H am lin G arland
1. = le a f or leav es
n .v .i. = no verso in scrip tio n
p. or pp. = page o r pages
r. = re c to
it. ms. = ty p ed m an u scrip t
u.l.
u /lc
u.p.
IV.
199
200
= underlined
= u p p e r/lo w e r case
= unpublished
= verso
= HG d e c o ra tio n of th re e sh o rt h o riz o n ta l and p a ra lle l lin es
D e s c r i p t i o n s
C ita tio n : FALL RIVER; a. m s.; ink.
T itle: F all R iv e r. [D eco rativ e dashes on b o th sides.] I fo u rth A ct —In te rio r
o f M ill.
C o lla tio n : 13 le av e s, bound w ith brass fa s te n e r a t to p le f t; le a f 5 7/8"
x 9 i" ; w h ite laid , h o riz o n ta l ch ain lin es 13/16" a p a rt; w a term ark ed "L ucano
L inen’r w ith design of 8 -pointed s ta r; no num bering; verso in scrip tio n
1. 13.
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; leav es 1-11: te x t o f A ct IV; 1.12: blank; 1.13r.:
blank; 1.13v.: in pen cil, tw o colum ns of d ig it m arks each w ith fiv e row s
o f fo u r m arks and one row of tw o m ark s. A t b o tto m th e num b er "23''
is in scrib ed w ithin a box; som e revisions in ink; good co n d itio n , 1.1
yellow ed.
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.L , u /lc , u .l., follow ed by period; sta g e d irectio n s:
u .l.; dialogue: in q u o tes.
i
D ates: C om p. c. e a rly 1890; co p y rig h ted w ith Jam es A. H erne, A pril
15, 1890; u.p.
C ita tio n : THE GIRL IN THE GINGHAM SUN-BONNET; a.m s.; ink.
i
T itle : The G irl in th e G ingham S un-B onnet. j
C o llatio n : 21 le av e s; unbound; le a f 8 1/16" x 10i" ; blue bond; num bering
a t to p c e n te r, pp. [1] 2-21; n.v.i.
C o n ten ts: In co m p lete; p. [1]: T itle and opening scen e d escrip tio n ; pp. 2-21:
te x t; pp. [1]— 9 w ritte n in black ink; pp. 9-21 w ritte n in blue ink; som e
revisions th ro u g h o u t in blue ink; good co n d itio n , 1. 1 yellow ed and ink'
fad ed . I
M2
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc, u .l., usually follow ed by period; sta g e
d irectio n s: u.l.; dialogue: in qu o tes.
D ates: C om p. c. 1903; u.p.
202 C ita tio n : H ESPER; a. m s.; ink.
T itle : H esper.
C o llatio n : 72 leav es, bound w ith brass fa s te n e r a t to p le f t; leav es bound
in th re e groups: 1-42 (A ct I), 43-60 (A ct II), 61-72 (A ct III); le a f 57/16"
x 87/16"; g ray laid , h o riz o n ta l chainlines 3/4" a p a rt; w a te rm a rk e d "S terling
Linen" w ith design o f B ritish pound sym bol; n u m bering a t to p c e n te r,
A ct I: pp. [1] 2-35, 35b, 36-41; A ct II: pp. 1-4, 6-9, 9, 10, 10b, 11-17,
[p.6 is m isnum bered and should be p .5; HG in scrib ed tw o leav es as p.9,j
th e first one o f w hich should be p .8.]; A ct III: pp. [1] 2-11 [12]; n.v.i. 1
I
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; A cts I and II c o m p le te, b u t A ct III seem s unfinished;
A ct I w ritte n in re d ink on pp. 1-27, black ink on pp. 27-41; A cts II and III
w ritte n in black ink; fre q u e n t revisions in ink in A cts I and II [red ink
w here te x t is black and v ice v ersa]; in fre q u e n t rev isio n s in b lack inkj
in A ct III; good co n d itio n , som e yellow ing on firs t le a f of e ac h a c t.
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc , u .l., usually follow ed by period; sta g e
d irectio n s: no u.l.; dialogue: in qu o tes. j
D a te s: C om p. c. 1904; u.p. 1
203 C ita tio n : LOVE OR THE LAW; t. m s.; ribbon.
T itle : LOVE OR THE LAW, - A MODERN PLAY. | BY I HAMLIN
GARLAND. [T itle is enclosed w ithin a d eco ratio n in ink.]
j
C o lla tio n : 26 leav es, unbound [m an u scrip t b ears m arks a t to p le ft of;
once being fa sten e d ]; le a f 63/8" x 10Vl6"; w h ite bond; no num bering
ex cep t fo r 1.3 n u m b ered in hand a t to p c e n te r as p. 2; n.v.i.
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; p. [i]: T itle p age w ith c a st o f c h a ra c te rs ; pp. [13— [8]:
Prologue; pp. [9]— [15]: A ct I; pp. [16]— [21]: A ct I, Scene 2; p.[22]-[25]: A ct I,1
Scene 3; som e revisions in ink; good condition, 1.1 heav ily fray ed , 1.2
to p le f t co rn er to rn o ff. j
I
F o rm a t: E n tire te x t ty p ed in c a p ita l le tte r s . C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d ,
usually follow ed by period; s ta g e d irectio n s: w ithin h an d -in scrib ed brackets,'
so m etim es u.l.; dialogue: in q u o tes. |
D a te s: M anuscript d a te d in ink in G arland's hand: "M ar. 1887. B oston.";
u.p. I
343
204a
|204b
205
C ita tio n : THE M cTURGS; a. m s. ink.
T itle: The M cTurgs [enclosed w ithin d eco ratio n ] I O utline S k etch .
C o llatio n : 5 sh e e ts, folded folio to m ake 10 leav es; 7^/8" x 10"; w hite
bond; no num bering; n.v.i.
C o n te n ts: In co m p ete; l .lr : T itle; 1.2r.: Second title : The M cTurgs / A P lay /
by / H am lin G arland; 1.3r.: A ct I, S cen es 1 and 2; 1.4r. & 5r.: Scene 3;
1.6r.: a c an celled Scene 4; 1.7r.: A ct II, Scene 1; 1.8r.: Scene 2; 1.9r. &
10r.: blank; no revisions; good condition. [E xcept fo r a p p ea ra n ce of
c h a ra c te r Hugh M cTurg, th is sk e tc h b e ars no re la tio n to m an u scrip t
#204b.]
F o rm a t: W ritten as a scen ario in prose w ith no c h a ra c te r cues or sta g e
d irectio n s.
D a te s: C om p. c. e arly 1887; u.p.
C ita tio n : THE M cTURGS; a . m s.; t. m s; ink, ribbon. !
T itle : —The M cTurgs: A Play:—
C ollatio n : 4 leav es, unbound; 1.1-2: 7 I / 8" x 10", 24-line b lu e-ru led w hite
bond; 1.3-4: 7^/8" x 1 0 V l6 " , w hite bond; no num bering, n.v.i. 1
!
C o n te n ts : In co m p lete; m an u scrip t e x ists in tw o se p a ra te fragm ents,!
m any le av e s a re m issing or lo st; 1.1-2: "Scene first", au to g rap h ; 1.3-4:1
fra g m e n t o f sub seq u en t u n id en tified scen e, ty p e w ritte n ; no revisions;
good condition.
1
F o rm at: A utograph portion: C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d , u /lc , follow ed
by period; s ta g e d irectio n s: in p a re n th e se s; dialogue: in q u o tes; typed;
p o rtio n a ll in caps: c h a ra c te r cues: f.l., usually follow ed by perio d , w ithin'
h an d -in scrib ed p a re n th e se s; sta g e d ire c tio n s: w ithin hand-inscribed;
p a re n th ese s; dialogue: in q u o tes. 1
D a te s: C om p. c. e a rly 1887; u.p.
C ita tio n : MARRYING A TITLE: a. m s.; ink. I
T itle : None on 1.1. T itle page to A c t II: M arrying a T itle I A comedy*
I by I K ath erin e C . H erne I Ja s . A. H ern e. I H am lin G arland. [A uthors'
n am es a re grouped by a b ra c k et] I —2nd A c t— I B oston I - 1 8 8 9 -
C o llatio n : 86 le av e s, unbound [m an u scrip t b ears m arks a t to p le f t o f
once being fasten ed ]; le a f 513/16" x 93/g". w h ite laid, h o riz o n ta l ch ainlines
15/16" a p a rt; w a te rm a rk e d "E ast H a rtfo rd Linen" w ith design o f eag le;
206
I
207
3441
i
A ct I: 1.1-48; A ct II: 1.49-68; A ct III: 1.69-86; num bering: A ct I, Scene
1: a t to p rig h t, pp. 1-15; A ct I, Scene 2: a t to p rig h t, pp. 1-10; A ct 1 ,1
P a rt II: com prised of tw e n ty -th re e leav es w ith d iso rd ered and in co m p lete
num bering a t to p rig h t, pp. 4-7, 9-10, 13, 16-19, 17; A ct II: com prised
o f tw e n ty le av e s w ith d iso rdered and in c o m p le te num bering a t c e n te r,
pp. 1-4, 4b, 5, 5-12, 17-18; A ct III, [Scene 1]: a t to p rig h t, pp. 1-7; A ct
III [Scene 2]: a t to p rig h t, pp. 1-7; verso in scrip tio n on 1.26, 31, 54. |
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; A ct I co m p lete b u t pages a p p ear m issing in Act!
II, and A ct III ap p ears unfinished; A cts I and III w ritte n in K ath erin e
H erne's hand; A ct II in HG hand; no ev id en ce o f Ja m e s A. H erne hand;
som e revisions and c a n c e llatio n s in ink th ro u g h o u t; good condition.
F o rm a t: In K ath erin e H erne's hand: c h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d in A ct I,
Scene 1, th e r e a f te r f.l., u /lc , usually u .l., usually follow ed by period;
sta g e d ire c tio n s: u .l.; dialogue: n o t in q u o tes. In HG hand: c h a ra c te r
cues: f.l., u /lc , u .l., follow ed by period; sta g e d ire c tio n s: u .l.; dialogue:
in quotes.
D ates: C om p, begun 1889 and probably co n tin u ed sp o rad ically u n til 1892,
th e y e ar HG re c o rd ed revisions in his notebook #31; u.p. '
C ita tio n : A MEMBER OF THE THIRD HOUSE; a . m s.; ink.
T itle : 1st D rft. o f "A M em ber o f th e I T hird House"— a play—ab o u t I 1890 -
In B oston. [Follow ed by sh o rt flourish.] j
C o lla tio n : 5 leav es, unbound; title 1.1: 8 i" x 11", w h ite bond; 1.2-5: 6,r!
x 97/16", w h ite laid, h o rizo n tal ch ainlines *3/16" a p a rt, w a term ark ed
"Lucano Linen" w ith design o f 8 -pointed s ta r ; num bering a t to p cen ter:'
pp. 76B, C , 76D, 76E; n.v.i.
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; m an u scrip t w as finished by HG b u t re m a in d er
not e x ta n t; no revisions; good condition. [In th is fra g m e n ta ry scen e,
R o b ert is re p o rtin g to D avis th a t Fox and B rennan can n o t be found.]
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d , u /lc , u .l., follow ed by p eriod; sta g e
d irectio n s: u .l.; dialogue: in q u o tes.
D a te s: C om p. 1890; public read in g given by HG, O cto b er 30, 1890.
C ita tio n : A MODERN INSTANCE; a. m s.; ink. [On USC M icrofilm #1561.]
T itle : Mr. H ow ells, I A M odern In sta n c e . | d ra m a tiz e d I by I H am lin’
G arland.
345j
C o lla tio n : 114 leav es, unbound, [m an u scrip t b ears m arks a t to p le f t o f
fa sten in g ; co n tain ed in 7" x 10" m an ila clasp envelope]; th re e d iffe re n t1
p ap ers used: 1) T itle 1.1: 55/8" x 9", w hite laid, h o riz o n ta l ch ain lin es
*5/16" a p a rt, w a term ark ed "B unker H ill / S. W. Co. / Linen"; 2) 1.2-8:1
55/16" x 9 i" , h o riz o n ta l ch ainlines 13/16" a p a rt, w a te rm a rk e d "G riffin1
L inen" w ith design of w inged horse; 3) 1.9-114: 5H / I 6" x 93/8", whitej
laid , h o rizo n tal ch ain lin es 13/16" a p a rt, w a term ark ed "L ucano Linen",
w ith design of 8-p o in ted s ta r; num bering: a t to p c e n te r, pp. [i] 1-7, no1
fu rth e r num bering; n .v .i.
C o n te n ts: C o m p lete; 1.1: T itle p age w ith c a st o f c h a ra c te rs; 1.2-114: te x t
co n sistin g o f A ct I, scen es 1-5, and A ct II, S cenes 1-8; th re e differen t;
c a te g o rie s o f le av e s: 1) 66 leav es w ith only HG in scrip tio n [tw o leav es
a re w ritte n in a n o th e r u n id en tified hand.]; 2) 31 leav es on w hich are'
p a ste d leav es c u t from a published copy o f th e H ow ells novel; 3) 17 loose
leav es from H ow ells novel [M aterial from H ow ells novel corresponds
to te x t and pag in atio n o f 1882 e d itio n published by Jam e s R . Osgood
& C o.]; good condition b u t m ost leav es w ell fray e d a t edges.
|
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d , u /lc , u .l., follow ed by p eriod; sta g e
d irectio n s: u .l., dialogue: in qu o tes.
D a te s: C om p. c. e arly 1891; u.p.
208a C ita tio n : THE OUTLAW OF BLIZZARD BASIN; t. ms. ; carbon.
T itle : The O utlaw o f BLIZZARD BASIN [F irst th re e w ords o f title a re :
h a n d w ritte n ; title page b ears stam p : AM ERICAN / PLAY COM PANY,
/ INC. / 33 WEST 42nd S t., / NEW YORK CITY]
1
C o lla tio n : 19 leav es, bound a t le ft m argin w ith tw o brass fa s te n e rs ; leaf;
81" x 11"; w hite bond; w a term ark ed "R ockbarnes Bond"; num bering at|
to p c e n te r, pp. [1] 2-19; n.v.i.
C o n te n ts: C o m p lete, o n e -a c t play; som e revisions in ink on pp. [1 ]— 7,
in freq u e n t revisions in ink on pp. 8-19; fa ir condition, heavily w orn from
handling.
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc , u.l. by hand, follow ed by colon; sta g e
d irectio n s: in p a re n th e se s; dialogue: in q u o tes.
D ates: C om p. c. 1907; u.p.
208b C ita tio n : THE OUTLAW OF BLIZZARD BASIN; t. m s.; carbon.
T itle : THE OUTLAW o f B lizzard B asin — [L ast th re e w ords h an d w ritte n
in pencil]
346
C o llatio n : 10 leav es, unbound [m anuscript b ears m arks a t top le f t anc
m iddle o f le f t m argin o f once being fa sten e d ]; le a f 82 " x 11"; w hite bond;
no num bering; n .v .i. |
!
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; end o f play unfinished o r m issing; 1.1-5: Scene
1; 1.6-10: Scene 2; no revisions; fa ir condition, heavily w orn from handling. 1
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., a b b re v ia te d as first c a p ita l le tte r of
c h a ra c te r n am e, follow ed by double or trip le hypens; sta g e d irectio n s:
in p a re n th ese s; dialogue: n o t in qu o tes. ,
l
D a te s: C om p. c. 1907; u.p. ,
208c C ita tio n : THE OUTLAW OF BLIZZARD BASIN: t. m s.; ribbon; in
possession o f H am lin G arland fam ily.
T itle : THE OUTLAW [A t to p le f t o f title page is draw ing o f sta g e settin g1
fo r play; a t rig h t is h a n d w ritte n no te: 2 scen es - / 2 w om en - / 2 m en -]
C o lla tio n : 12 le a v e s, bound a t to p le f t w ith brass fa s te n e r; le a f 8^/16'^
x 111"; w h ite bond; no num bering; verso in scrip tio n 1.12. j
C o n te n ts: C o m p lete; 1.1-5: Scene 2; 1.6-8: Scene 1; 1.10-12: Scene 3;:
1.12 v.: in pen cil, a lis t o f 16 sta g e props w ith th e nam e "Joe"; heavily
rev ised and c an c e lled in ink th ro u g h o u t; fa ir condition, heavily yellow ed
and fray ed from handling. ;
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., a b b re v iate d as firs t c a p ita l le t t e r of
c h a ra c te r n am e, follow ed by double or trip le hypens; sta g e d irectio n s:
in p aren th eses; dialogue: not in qu o tes. i
D a te s: C om p. c. 1907; u.p.; a version o f play is known to have been
p erfo rm ed c. 1907 in vaudeville by a c tre s s C h ry sta l H erne.
209a C ita tio n : MILLER OF BOSCOBEL: t. m s.; ribbon. j
T itle : THE PE AC E-M AKER | A PLAY IN TH R EE ACTS. I By I HAMLINi
GARLAND | C hicago, Ju n e 17. [A t to p in HG hand: "The Business Lady.";
stam p ed tw ic e in g reen ink: HAMLIN GARLAND / 72 EAST|
NINETY-SECOND ST. /NEW YORK CITY]
C o llatio n : 85 leav es, unbound [m an u scrip t co n tain ed w ithin heavy card b o ard
fo ld er; 1.59-85 (A ct III) b e ar m arks a t to p le ft of o nce being fa ste n e d
sep a ra te ly ]; le a f 8i " x 11"; tw o d iffe re n t p ap ers used: 1) 1.1-58: w hite
bond, w a term ark ed "B ro th er Jo n ath an Bond"; 2) 1.59-85: w hite bond,I
w a term ark ed "A caw am Bond" w ith design o f eag le; num bering: a t to p
rig h t, pp. [1] [2] 3-58, no fu rth e r num bering o f 1.59-85; n .v .i. j
347
C o n te n ts: C o m p lete: p. [1]: title ; p. [2]: C ast o f c h a ra c te rs; pp. 3-32:
A ct I; pp. 33-58: A ct II; pp. [59]-[85]: A ct III; som e rev isions in ink:
th ro u g h o u t A cts I and II, no revisions in A ct III; good condition. j
i
F o rm a t: A cts I and II: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., in caps, u .l., follow ed by period;
s ta g e d irectio n s: u .l.; dialogue: in q u o tes; A ct III: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l.,
u /lc , u.l., follow ed by period; sta g e d ire c tio n s: u .l.; dialogue: in q u o tes.
D a te s : C om p 1908-09; fir s t p e rfo rm ed in A ppleton, W isconsin, Jan u a ry
29, 1909; u.p.; p rin ted ed itio n of play in d isse rta tio n o f J a n e F ran ces
E arley , U niv ersity o f W isconsin, 1969. !
209b C ita tio n : MILLER OF BOSCOBEL; a . m s.; t. ms; ink, pencil, ribbon.
T itle : None. '
C ollatio n : 11 leav es, unbound [1.1-9 b e ar tw o hole punches a t le f t m argin];
1.1-9: 8 s" x 10^/8", w hite bond, w a te rm a rk e d "B rother Jo n a th a n Bond";
1.10-11: 57/8 " x 9 i" , w hite laid, h o riz o n ta l chainlines H /1 6 " apart,j
w a term ark ed "Linen" w ith u n id en tifiab le design; num bering: 1.1-9: twoj
s e ts o f num bering: 1) a t to p rig h t in pencil, pp. 71-75, 77-78, 88 [also,
num bered a t to p c e n te r as "30"], 89; 2) a t b o tto m le ft in ty p e , pp. 13-17,'
19-20, [30], 31; 1.10-11: a t to p c e n te r, pp. 1-2; verso in scrip tio n in p en cil
1.8-9.
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete, frag m en ts; 1.1-9: ty p ed frag m e n t o f e a rly scen e,
heavily rev ised and can celled in ink and pen cil; 1.10-11: au to g rap h frag m e n t
in ink of beginning o f A ct III, no revisions; good condition.
i
F o rm a t: Typed p o rtio n 1.1-9: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc , u.l. in re d ink,I
follow ed by period; s ta g e d irectio n s: u.l. in red ink; dialogue: in quotes;'
au to g rap h p o rtio n 1.10-11: C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d , u /lc ., u .l.; s ta g e
d irectio n s: u.l; dialogue: not in q u o tes.
D a tes: C om p c. 1908-09; photocopy in E arley d isse rta tio n .
209c C ita tio n : MILLER OF BOSCOBEL; t. m s.; carb o n .
T itle : "M iller o f B oscobel" [H an d w ritten in ink; ty p ed title "THE
PEACE-M AKER" has been can celled .] I JO SEPH MARVIN I ACT I.
C ollatio n : 12 le av e s, bound b etw een card b o ard covers a t le f t m argin
w ith tw o brass fa s te n e rs ; le a f 8 l" x 5 i" [each le a f ap p ears c u t by hand
from a la rg e r sh e e t, so height v aries slightly]; w hite bond, w a te rm a rk e d
"N apier Bond"; no num bering; n.v.i.
348
C o n te n ts: A cto r's p ro m p t copy, co m p lete; 1.1-3: A ct I; 1.4-7: A ct II; 1.8-12:
A ct III; rev ised th ro u g h o u t in ink and pencil; fa ir condition, heavily w orn
from handling. |
I
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: none, sin ce all lin es belong to c h a ra c te r o f
Joseph M arvin; sp eech o f preceding c h a ra c te r is cu ed by hyphens; s ta g e
d irectio n s: in p a re n th e se s; dialogue: not in q u o tes. !
D a te s: 1909; in th e a te r program fo r th e p erfo rm an c e o f Jan u a ry 30J
1909, Joseph M arvin w as played by a c to r R alph B radley; photocopy iri
E arley d isse rta tio n . j
i
210a C ita tio n : R IP VAN WINKLE; a . ms; t. m s.; pen cil, ribbon.
T itle : RIP VAN WINKLE.
C o llatio n : 32 leav es, unbound; 1.1-30: 8 i" x 11", w hite bond, w aterm ark ed
"W hiting's M utual Bond" w ith design o f a "W"; 1.31-32: 8" x 101", white;
laid, v e rtic a l chainlines 15/16" a p a rt; num bering: a t to p rig h t, pp. [T
2-22, th en [(23a, b, c, d); an in se rte d scene] 23-26 [27] [28]; n.v.i.
C o n te n ts: C o m p lete; p .[l]: T itle and c a st o f c h a ra c te rs; pp. 2-26: A c t
I; p. [27]: scen ario o f A ct II; p. [28]: scen ario o f A ct III; 1.23-25: au to g rap h 1
p o rtio n in pencil; v ery heavily revised in p en cil and ink; good condition.
i
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc , so m etim es u .l., so m etim es follow ed
by period; sta g e d ire c tio n s: in p a re n th ese s; dialogue: not in q u o tes.
D a te s: C om p. c. 1927.
210b C ita tio n : RIP VAN WINKLE; t. m s.; carbon.
T itle : RIP VAN WINKLE. | ACT I.
C o llatio n : 62 le av e s, unbound; le a f x 11"; 1.1-28: w hite bond,
w aterm ark ed "Q u alitex Bond"; 1.29-51: w h ite laid , chainlines 7/8 " a p a rt,
w aterm ark ed "W hitings P ure Linen"; 1.52-62: blue bond, w a term ark ed
" C e rtific a te Bond"; num bering: a t top rig h t, pp. 1-44, 46-60, 62-64 [1.45
is in c o rre c tly nu m b ered "46"; p. 61 is m issing]; n.v.i.
C o n ten ts: C o m p lete, ex ce p t fo r m issing p. 61; pp. 1-32: A ct I, Scenes'
1-5; pp. 33-64: A ct II, Scenes 1-5; no rev isio n s; good condition. 1
I
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc , u.l. by hand, usually follow ed by hyphen;
sta g e d irectio n s: in p a re n th ese s; dialogue: not in qu o tes.
J
D a te s ; C om p. 1927; p erfo rm ed a t O n te o ra T h e a ter July 16, 1927; p rin ted
ed itio n o f play in d isse rta tio n o f M ark W illiam R ocha, U n iv ersity o f
S o u th ern C alifo rn ia, 1988. j
210c C ita tio n : R IP VAN WINKLE; t. m s.; carbon.
T itle : R ip Van Winkle
j
C o lla tio n : 6 leav es, unbound; le a f 8 i" x 111/8", w hite bond, w a te rm a rk e d
"Q u alitex Bond"; no num bering; n .v .i. j
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; 1.1-6: beginning o f A ct I [m anuscript ap p ears to
be clean rev ised version of #210a; re m a in d er unfinished or lo st]; no
revisions; good condition.
F o rm at: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc , no u .l., follow ed by hyphen; sta g e
d irectio n s: in p a re n th ese s; dialogue: n o t in q u o tes.
D ates: C om p. c. 1927. \
211 C ita tio n : THE RISE OF BOOMTOWN; t. m s.; ribbon. !
j T itle : 2nd Rough O utline o f. [h an d w ritten in ink] | THE RISE OF,
I BOOMTOWN. [E ach le tte r o f title individually underlined tw ic e; enclosed
w ithin d e co ratio n .] I A D akota P lay. I by I H am lin G arland. I W ith prologue
spoken by a u th o r. [W ithin h an d -in scrib ed p aren th eses] ,
C o lla tio n : 20 leav es, unbound; le a f 55/1 6 " x 9i"; w hite laid , h o riz o n ta l
ch ainlines 13/16" a p a rt; w a term ark ed "L ucano Linen" w ith design o f
8 -p o in ted s ta r; num bering a t to p c e n te r in ink, pp. [i] 1-7, 9-13, 66-72;
n .v .i.
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; play has been fin ish ed b u t m any in te rv e n in g le av e s
m issing; p. [i]: title and c a s t o f c h a ra c te rs ; pp. 1-7: Scene 1; pp. 9-13:'
Scene 2; pp. 66-72: fra g m e n t o f A ct III, Scene 2; som e revisions throughout'
in ink; good condition.
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d , u /lc , u.l. by hand; dialogue: in q u o tes.
D a te s : C om p. c. early 1889; u.p.
211b C ita tio n : THE RISE OF BOOMTOWN; a . m s.; ink.
T itle: —Scene Second.
3 5 0 ]
i
C o llatio n : 12 le av e s, unbound; le a f 7" x 8 i" ; 24-line b lu e-ru led w hite
bond; num bering a t to p c e n te r, pp. 3-6, 6B, 7-8 [9] 10-12 [13]; n.v.i.
I
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete, probably an e arly d ra ft p reced in g #211a; pp. 3-6B:
[A ct I] Scene 2; pp. 7— [13]: A ct II, Scene 1; in freq u e n t revisions in ink;
good condition. I
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d , u /lc , no u .l., follow ed by period; sta g e 1
d irectio n s: no u.l. or p a re n th ese s; dialogue: in q u o tes.
D a te s: C om p. c. 1888; u.p.
-212 C ita tio n : THE STORM CHILD; a. m s.; ink.
| -------------- 5 ’
T itle : The Storm C hild
C o llatio n : 17 leav es, bound a t to p le f t w ith brass fa ste n e r; le a f 5?" x
8"; w h ite bond; num bering a t to p c e n te r, pp. [1] 2-3, 3 [in c o rrec tly
num bered, should be p. 4] 4-7; n.v.i.
C o n te n ts: Possibly co m p lete; 1.1-8: te x t; 1.9-17: blank; in freq u e n t revisions;
good condition, 1.1 yellow ed.
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc , u .l., so m etim es follow ed by period;
s ta g e d ire c tio n s: u .l.; dialogue: so m etim es in q u o tes.
D a te s: D ated in p en cil on 1.1 "1906"; u.p.
213 C ita tio n : TREG U RTH A ; a. m s.; ink.
T itle : T reg u rth a. I A M odern P lay. J
i
C o llatio n : 8 le a v e s, unbound [m an u scrip t b ears m arks a t to p le f t o f once
being fasten ed ]; le a f 55/16" x 9"; w hite bond; no num bering; n .v .i.
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; 1.1— 3: title and fra g m e n t o f f ir s t scen e; 1.4-6;
A ct I frag m e n t; 1.7-8: A ct II fra g m e n t; in fre q u e n t revisions in ink; fair!
condition, all le a v e s heavily yellow ed and fray e d . !
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d , u /lc , follow ed by period; sta g e
d irectio n s: no u .l.; dialogue: in q u o tes.
D ates: C om p. c. 1890; u.p.
351
214 C ita tio n : UNDER THE WHEEL; a. ms; t. m s.; ink, ribbon. I
i
T itle : N one. On 1.4: U nder th e W heel I A M odern P lay. I by I H am lin
G arland | —III— ["A ct" and "Scene first" cancelled] | Scene T hird A lonely
p ra irie
I
C o llatio n : 11 leav es, unbound [m an u scrip t b ears m arks a t to p le f t of|
being fasten ed ]; le a f 55/16" x 9?"; w h ite laid , h o rizo n tal chainlines 13/16"-
a p a rt; w a term ark ed "Lucano Linen" w ith design o f 8 -p o in ted s ta r;
num bering in ink a t to p c e n te r, pp. 22, 23, 26; no fu rth e r num bering ex ce p t
fo r 1.5 num bered as "9"; verso in scrip tio n 1.5.
C o n te n ts: In com plete, various frag m e n ts: 1.1— 3; frag m e n t o f Scene 2;
1.4-6: au to g rap h , opening frag m e n t o f Scene 3; 1.7-10: a lte rn a tiv e ending
fo r Scene 6, end o f play; 1.11: c an c e lled fra g m e n t from S cene 6; som e
revisions th ro u g h o u t in ink; good condition.
i
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: c e n te re d , u /lc , usually u .l., so m etim es follow ed
by period; sta g e d irectio n s: u.l.; dialogue: in qu o tes.
i
D ates: C om p. c. la te 1889; published Ju n e 1890 in A rena and su b sequently
by B arta P ress.
,215 C ita tio n : UP THE COOLY; a. m s.; ink, pencil. i
l I
T itle : U p th e C oolv. j
C o llatio n : 18 leav es, bound a t top le f t by round clip; le a f 8i" x 11"; blue]
bond, w a term ark ed "R eg iste r Bond"; num bering a t to p c e n te r, pp. [1]
2-18; n .v .i. •
I
C o n te n ts: In co m p lete; pp. [1]— 18: te x t o f opening scen e [play co v ers about
h alf of o riginal sh o rt sto ry in MTR]; pp. 15-18 in pencil; in fre q u e n t
revisions; good condition. !
F o rm a t: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., u /lc , u .l., follow ed by period; sta g e d irectio n s:
u .l.; dialogue: in q u o tes.
D ates: C om p. c. 1891-1900; u.p.
2*6 C ita tio n : WAMDESAPA; t. m s.; ribbon.
T itle : WAMDESAPA. [E ach le tte r o f title individually u.l.; d ire c tly b en eath
ap p ear te n d e c o ra tiv e aste risk s; a t to p is stam p : HAMLIN GARLAND^
/ 220 S. M ichigan A ve., CHICAGO, ILL.; second line of sta m p is can celled
in p en cil and re p la ce d by: 71. E. 92n<^ S t. / New Y ork C ity .; a t to p left;
in HG hand: W ritten fo r use as a / lib re tto fo r an / o p e re tta + It is based
on / an a c tu a l e v e n t in th e life / of a Sioux c h ieftan .] J
352
I
C o llatio n : 11 le av e s, unbound [m an u scrip t b ears m arks a t to p le f t of
once being fa ste n e d w ith round clip]; le a f 8" x 109/16"; w h ite laid]
w a term ark ed "W.S. & B. R eg en t Linen / M ade in U .S.A ."; num bering
a t to p rig h t, pp. [1] 2-11; n.v.i. j
C o n te n ts: C o m p lete; pp. [1]2— 11: T itle and te x t; fin al le a f signed in pencil
by HG; in fre q u e n t revisions in ink; good co n d itio n , 1.1 yellow ed.
F o rm at: C h a ra c te r cues: f.l., in caps, n o t u .l., follow ed by period; sta g e
d irectio n s: u .l.; dialogue: in qu o tes.
D a tes: C om p. c. 1906; u.p.
217 C ita tio n : FRAGM ENTS OF PLAYS
a. T itle : The R ed B ro th e r; a . m s.; ink.
i C o lla tio n : 2 le av e s, unbound; le a f 8 i" x 11"; blue bond; no num bering;
i n.v.i.
!
i C o n te n ts: C o m p lete o u tlin e o f scen ario based on novel The C ap tain of
th e G ray-H orse T roop; includes prelude and six scen es; in freq u e n t revisions
in ink; good condition.
F o rm at: W ritten in prose w ith no cues, d ire c tio n s; som e dialogue in quotes.
D ates: C om p. c. 1902; u.p.
b. T itle : None [M rs. R ob. "You should ta k e c a re . H e's n ot th e guileless
b e ar he's p ic tu re d to be. / J im . . . . We ro d e till te n o clock th a t n i g h t -
passing a villag e now and th en and tra ilin ’ along a sassy lookin lo t o f
w arrio rs — I]; a. m s.; ink.
»
C o llatio n : 9 leav es; unbound; 1.1-3 & 9: 5?" x 8", w hite bond; 1.4-8: 57/16"
x 87/16", blue bond, w a term ark ed "R ecord Bond"; num bering a t to p c e n te r,1
pp. 22a, 22b, 22c, 23— 28; n .v .i. j
I
C o n ten ts: In co m p lete; fra g m e n t o f a scen e in w hich an A m erican w estern
outdoorsm an n am ed Jim com es to London w here he discusses A m erican
life w ith M ary; in freq u e n tly rev ised in ink; good condition. j
D a te s: ?; m ay be a f te r HG’ s firs t trip to England in 1899. !
T itle; N one. [Englishm an - . "Sir—Excuse m e b u t w ill you kindly
te ll m e why is th e grass so sh o rt? / Eng—W hat an e x tra o rd in a ry
a ffa ir."]; a. m s.; ink. I
C o lla tio n ; 2 sh e e ts folded folio to m ake 8 leav es; le a f 61/16" x
9"; ta n bond; no num bering; n .v .i.
C o n te n ts; In co m p lete frag m e n t o f scen e and sce n a rio in w hich
an Englishm an com es to A m erican p ra irie and discusses land w ith
F rank and W hiting, tw o c h a ra c te rs who ap p ear in U nder th e W heel;
no revisions; good condition.
F o rm a t; C h a ra c te r cues; f.l., u /lc , n ot usually u .l., follow ed by
period; sta g e d irectio n s: none; dialogue: in quotes.
D ates: ?
P r i n c i p a l W o r k s a n d E v e n t s
i n H a m l i n G a r l a n d ’ s L i f e
1860 Born S ept. 14, West
S a le m , Wisconsin
1884 O ctober: Moves to
Boston
1 1885 "F ab led Isles" 1st
pub. poem :
"Ten Years Dead" 1st
pub. story:
1887 M eets H ow ells
1889 M eets Jam es A. Herne
S ept: "Under the L io n 's
Paw" pub.
A P P E N D I X
C H R O N O L O G I C A L T A B L E
P l a y s b y H a m l i n G a r l a n d
Spring: The McTurgs
A utum n: Love or the Law
The Rise of Boomtown
Under the Wheel (pub.
June 1890)
F a ll R iver (w . J . H erne)
M arrying a T itle (w . K.
H erne)
T regurtha
A _ Member of the Third
House (P u b lic reading)
D r a m a C r i t i c i s m a n d E v e n t s
D ec. 9: Tufts Lecture on
Booth
L ecture: "On the P lays
C urrent"
"Ibsen as D ram atist"
First p e rf. of M argaret
F lem ing (J u ly 4)
w;
w
P r i n c i p a l W o r k s a n d E v e n t s
i n H a m l i n G a r l a n d ' s L i f e
1891 M ain -T rav elled Roads
1893 W inter: Moves to NYC
I Spring: Moves to Chicago
1894
1895 Rose of D-utcher1 s C ooly
1896
1898 Biography of U lysses S. G rant
1899 Boy Life on the Prairie
Nov: M arries Z ulim e T aft
1900 M other dies
I
'1902 C aptain o f the G ray-H orse
1903 D aughter Mary Isabel born
1904
i
1906
P l a y s b y H a m l i n G a r l a n d
A Modern Instance
G ratitude
The D aughter of Rushing Bear
Up the C ooly (?)
The Red B rother (scenario based
on C aptain of G ray-H orse Troop)
The G irl m. the Gingham
Sun-bonnet
Hesper (based on his no v el)
The Storm C hild
Wamdesapa
D r a m a C r i t i c i s m a n d E v e n t s
The F irst Independent
T heater A ssociation of
Boston
C rum bling Idols
Light of th e S tar (novel
about the NY th e a te r)
u
P r i n c i p a l W o r k s a n d E v e n t s
i n H a m l i n G a r l a n d ' s L i f e
1907 D aughter C onstance born
1909
1911
I
l
S 1914 "Son of the M iddle Border"
| (appears in C o llie rs )
I
; 1916 Moves back to NYC
1917 Son pub. by M acM illan
1921 D aughter wins P u litz e r Prize
119 2 6 T rai 1 - Makers
I --------------------
1927
! 1928 B ack -T railers
1930 R etires to LA
Pub. first of 4 v o ls. of
personal memoirs
1940 Dies March 4
P l a y s b y H a m l i n G a r l a n d D r a m a C r i t i c i s m a n d E v e n t s
The O utlaw of B lizzard Basin
(perform ed in v au d ev ille)
M ille r of Boscobel (p e rf. Ja n . 29)
Chicago T heater Society
(through 1913)
P u litz e r Prize Dram a Jury
(through 1925)
Rip Van W inkle (p e rf. J u ly 16)
td
W
a >
357
WORKS CITED AND CONSULTED
!
Adams, H enry. The E ducation o f H enry A dam s. New York: L ibrary o f A m erica,
1983.
A hnebrink, L ars. The Beginnings o f N atu ralism in A m erican F ic tio n . C am bridge:
H arvard, 1950.
Arvidson, Lloyd A. H am lin G arlan d : C en ten n ial T rib u tes and a C h eck list o f
th e H am lin G arland P apers o f th e U n iv ersity o f S outhern C alifo rn ia .
L ibrary B ulletin No. 9. Los A ngeles: U niv ersity o f S outhern C alifornia,!
1962. 1
B arnard, Philip. "The N ovel on S tag e in N an a." ML A C onvention. New Y ork,'
27 D ec. 1986. j
Baym, N ina. "M elodram as o f B eset M anhood: How T heories of A m erican F iction!
Exclude Women A uthors." A m erican Q u a rte rly 33 (Sum m er 1981): 123-;
j 139. :
B erth o ff, W arner. The F e rm e n t of R ealism . New Y ork: The F ree P ress, 1965.
B ordm an, G erald. The O xford C om panion to th e A m erican T h e a te r. New York:,
j O xford, 1 9 8 4 . j
i j
B ow ers, F redson. P rin cip les of B ibliographical D escrip tio n . P rin ceto n U niversity,!
! 1949. I
I i
, i
i i
Brooks, Van Wyck. The C o n fid en t Y ears: 1885-1915. New York: E. P. D u tto n ,1
1952.
I
B row n, T. A llston. A H istory o f th e New Y ork S tag e, from th e F irst P e rfo rm a n ce
in 1732 to 1901. 3 vols. New Y ork, 1903.
B ry er, Jack so n , e t a l., eds. H am lin G arland and th e C ritic s : An A n n o ta ted !
B ibliography. T roy, NY: W hitston, 1973.
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