ine brutanity of a Bolshie 10 a
kulak er a rovalist.
My suspicion i
strengthened by Mr. Wilde's account
him. Art.“ he wrote to Mr. Wilde.
“ must be about something, a truism
with which everybody must agree. Mr.
Odets, who is a Broadway Bolshie.
utters platitudes as
he
Wert
Moses bringing the Tables of the Law
down from Mount Sinai. He goes on
to say of art that“ it must be hot and
spiteful.“ The statement is a revela¬
tion of what is profoundly wrong with
Mr. Odets, à revelation as clear as
that made by Mr. H. G. Wells i his
autobiography when he informed bis
readers that he did not like people.
That, they realised, was what was
wrong with him. Mr. Odets screams
with rage against those who dare to
differ from him. He is like those
Americans who begin every sentence
with the assertion, “ I'm gonna tell you
somepin! and are offended if von
reply, first. that you know what they
are gonna tell you, second, that every¬
body has known it for a long time.
and, third. that you don't want to hear
him telling it at enormous length. It
seems that all who think as Mr. Odets
thinks are shining archangels, and that
those who disagree with him or suggest
that, perhaps, there is something to be
said in behalf of the dissentients, are
scum.
Mr. Green's play.“ Hymn to the
Rising Sun, is one of his best: beauti¬
fully constructed, and very moving.
The scene is a convict stockade“ some¬
where in the United States, and the
action is concerned with the brutality
of the gaolers to the gaoled. A Negro,
called Runt, has been punished in a
way so barbarous that it would seem
incredible were we not now accus¬
tomed to brutalities in European coun¬
tries no less, if no greater. Runt is
shut up in a“sweat-box, a sort of
coffin, and kept there in suffocating
circumstances as a punishment for an
offence. The punishment is to last for
twenty-one days, but the Captain, a
half-mad ruffian, informs the other
convicts in the play that he intends to
do an act of kindness by letting Runt
out of the“ sweat-box onthe eleventh
day But, when the box is opened,
Runt is found to be dead. The whole
play is appalling in its revelation of
inhumanity, so appalling, indeed, as to
be nearlv unbearable, but it never for
a second ceases to be the passionate
protest of a poet against barbarism, nor
does its author ever lose his sense of
people. There is nothing“ hot and
spiteful’ about Mr. Green, nor does he
cease from his denunciation of wrong
to pat himself on the back, or say a
few words in favour of Comrade
Stalin. Barbaritv, to Mr. Green, is
barbarity,
oy whomsoever it is per¬
formed, but barbarity, to Mr. Odets, is
only barbarity when Nazis practice it
against Communists. rill the Day
Die has force, and it is written with
great skill. Mr. Odets does feel that
it is dreadful of a Nazi to beat a Com¬
munist. I share his feeling. But
suspect that his rage would be greatlg#
abated if the beating were done by a
Communist to a Nazi. Mr. Green
would feel as much compunction about
a brutally-used Fascist as he would feel
about a brutally-used Bolshie. He# is
hot, but he is not spiteful. Until Mr.
Odets can clear his mind of party cant
and smugness, he will never write a
play of any worth. I have left myself
no room in which to refer to the other
plays in this excellent volume. and am
forced to content myself with saying
that the best of the remaining pieces
seem to me to be Mr. Harold Brig¬
house's
Smoke-screens“ and Mr.
*
Gabriel Timmory's To Kill a Man.
Why Mr. Wilde included Evréinov's
dreary work,“ The Corridors of the
Soul,' which we know better under the
title of" The Theatre of the Soul,“ is
a puzzle. I suppose he found, as Mr
Max Eastman. himself a Communist.
has discovered, that there has been so
much propaganda in Russia that there
is now no art. and has had to fall back
about Gladstone which was uttered by
Henry Labouchere. Parnell was in¬
capable of saving.“I don't mind his
finding the Ace of Trumps up his
sleeve, if only he wouldn't claim that
God Almighty put it there.“ Labby
put it better than that. Nor could he
have said." I refuse to go down to pos¬
terity speaking bad English. He had
no power of jesting, and was incapable
of distinguishing English from bad
English. Mrs. Schauffler. shifting words
from one mouth to another, failed to
see that the mouths were very different
from each other, and that what fitted
Labbv’s“ mouth could never have
ütted Parnell’s. Miss Rawlings’s amend¬
ments make confusion more confused.
Aunt Ben, who was a principal
figure in the unamended play, is put
into her grave: Mrs. Hamish (Aunt
Caroline), a fictitious character, takes
her place, and uses her words. Mrs.
Steele is transformed, yielding her
place to another fictitious character,
Mrs. Bridget Blair, and taking her
sister Clara's. Clara disappears. The
suggestion that Gladstone behaved
hypocritically, a monstrous calumny.
is toned down, but the genius of Glad¬
stone is still to seek in the play. The
drawing of the Irish Nationalists is
ludicrous, and one of them, a dreadful
old ruffian, the O’Gorman Mahon, is
shown as present at the discussions in
Committee Room 15 when, in fact, he
was on his deathbed. But the whole
play is a ramshackle contrivance, false
to fact and false to character, and
would be unworthy of notice were it
not for the remarkably good acting of
its cast, especially that of Mr. Wynd¬
ham Goldie, whose Parnell is an aston¬
ishingly fine performance.
A Flundred Dears
Ago.
Excerpts krom“ Ebe Observer ok
Zanuary Ist, 1837.
THE SNCWSTORM.
During the past week the whole country
has been visited by a fall of snow heavier,
and more painful in its consequences, than
has been experienced for many years, It
began on Christmas Eve. Many mail
coaches were embedded in drifts.
The Duke of Wellington, travelling from
Marlborough in his own carriage-and-four
tothe mansion of the Duke of Beaufort,
was greatly delayed, his carriage getting
fixed in a wheat-field.
There was considerable difficulty in the
passages of the ordinary conveyances to
the City. Instead of fourteen omnibuses,
the usual number from Brentford, on Mon¬
day morning only three were able to take
the journev. All the omnibuses from Pad¬
dington, Highgate, Hampstead, Stratford.
and Hackney were drawn by three or four
horses. and several accidents happened on
Monday and Tuesday, many horses having
died on the road.
The Paris papers of Tuesday, which ar¬
rived by an extraordinary courier on Fri¬
day morning, contain an account of a new
attempt to assassmate the King of thef
French. His Majesty was driving from the.
Tuileries to open the Chambres. On
passing the Quai des Tuileries a young man
fired at the King. The shot passed throughg
the carrlage. The Duke of Orleans, who sats
by the side of the King, was slightly
wounded by the broken glass. The assassin
and two persons suspected of being accom¬
plices were taken into custody.
It is confidently expected that the whole.
line of the Londen and Birmingham rail¬
way will be completed early in the summer
of 1833. The communication between Lon¬
don and Hemel Hemsted will be opened to
the public on June 1 next, and will be con¬
tinued as far as Tring before the close of
the Fear
Mr. Monck Maron is proposing to go to
America in a balloon. This he judges pos¬
sible from the supposition that there are
contrary currents at different altitudes.—
Cumberland Pacquet.“
A fire which broke out in St. Peter’s
Church, Eaton-square, on Fridav evening,
#l. „
caused damage estimated at Pino
e
—u
kulak er a rovalist.
My suspicion i
strengthened by Mr. Wilde's account
him. Art.“ he wrote to Mr. Wilde.
“ must be about something, a truism
with which everybody must agree. Mr.
Odets, who is a Broadway Bolshie.
utters platitudes as
he
Wert
Moses bringing the Tables of the Law
down from Mount Sinai. He goes on
to say of art that“ it must be hot and
spiteful.“ The statement is a revela¬
tion of what is profoundly wrong with
Mr. Odets, à revelation as clear as
that made by Mr. H. G. Wells i his
autobiography when he informed bis
readers that he did not like people.
That, they realised, was what was
wrong with him. Mr. Odets screams
with rage against those who dare to
differ from him. He is like those
Americans who begin every sentence
with the assertion, “ I'm gonna tell you
somepin! and are offended if von
reply, first. that you know what they
are gonna tell you, second, that every¬
body has known it for a long time.
and, third. that you don't want to hear
him telling it at enormous length. It
seems that all who think as Mr. Odets
thinks are shining archangels, and that
those who disagree with him or suggest
that, perhaps, there is something to be
said in behalf of the dissentients, are
scum.
Mr. Green's play.“ Hymn to the
Rising Sun, is one of his best: beauti¬
fully constructed, and very moving.
The scene is a convict stockade“ some¬
where in the United States, and the
action is concerned with the brutality
of the gaolers to the gaoled. A Negro,
called Runt, has been punished in a
way so barbarous that it would seem
incredible were we not now accus¬
tomed to brutalities in European coun¬
tries no less, if no greater. Runt is
shut up in a“sweat-box, a sort of
coffin, and kept there in suffocating
circumstances as a punishment for an
offence. The punishment is to last for
twenty-one days, but the Captain, a
half-mad ruffian, informs the other
convicts in the play that he intends to
do an act of kindness by letting Runt
out of the“ sweat-box onthe eleventh
day But, when the box is opened,
Runt is found to be dead. The whole
play is appalling in its revelation of
inhumanity, so appalling, indeed, as to
be nearlv unbearable, but it never for
a second ceases to be the passionate
protest of a poet against barbarism, nor
does its author ever lose his sense of
people. There is nothing“ hot and
spiteful’ about Mr. Green, nor does he
cease from his denunciation of wrong
to pat himself on the back, or say a
few words in favour of Comrade
Stalin. Barbaritv, to Mr. Green, is
barbarity,
oy whomsoever it is per¬
formed, but barbarity, to Mr. Odets, is
only barbarity when Nazis practice it
against Communists. rill the Day
Die has force, and it is written with
great skill. Mr. Odets does feel that
it is dreadful of a Nazi to beat a Com¬
munist. I share his feeling. But
suspect that his rage would be greatlg#
abated if the beating were done by a
Communist to a Nazi. Mr. Green
would feel as much compunction about
a brutally-used Fascist as he would feel
about a brutally-used Bolshie. He# is
hot, but he is not spiteful. Until Mr.
Odets can clear his mind of party cant
and smugness, he will never write a
play of any worth. I have left myself
no room in which to refer to the other
plays in this excellent volume. and am
forced to content myself with saying
that the best of the remaining pieces
seem to me to be Mr. Harold Brig¬
house's
Smoke-screens“ and Mr.
*
Gabriel Timmory's To Kill a Man.
Why Mr. Wilde included Evréinov's
dreary work,“ The Corridors of the
Soul,' which we know better under the
title of" The Theatre of the Soul,“ is
a puzzle. I suppose he found, as Mr
Max Eastman. himself a Communist.
has discovered, that there has been so
much propaganda in Russia that there
is now no art. and has had to fall back
about Gladstone which was uttered by
Henry Labouchere. Parnell was in¬
capable of saving.“I don't mind his
finding the Ace of Trumps up his
sleeve, if only he wouldn't claim that
God Almighty put it there.“ Labby
put it better than that. Nor could he
have said." I refuse to go down to pos¬
terity speaking bad English. He had
no power of jesting, and was incapable
of distinguishing English from bad
English. Mrs. Schauffler. shifting words
from one mouth to another, failed to
see that the mouths were very different
from each other, and that what fitted
Labbv’s“ mouth could never have
ütted Parnell’s. Miss Rawlings’s amend¬
ments make confusion more confused.
Aunt Ben, who was a principal
figure in the unamended play, is put
into her grave: Mrs. Hamish (Aunt
Caroline), a fictitious character, takes
her place, and uses her words. Mrs.
Steele is transformed, yielding her
place to another fictitious character,
Mrs. Bridget Blair, and taking her
sister Clara's. Clara disappears. The
suggestion that Gladstone behaved
hypocritically, a monstrous calumny.
is toned down, but the genius of Glad¬
stone is still to seek in the play. The
drawing of the Irish Nationalists is
ludicrous, and one of them, a dreadful
old ruffian, the O’Gorman Mahon, is
shown as present at the discussions in
Committee Room 15 when, in fact, he
was on his deathbed. But the whole
play is a ramshackle contrivance, false
to fact and false to character, and
would be unworthy of notice were it
not for the remarkably good acting of
its cast, especially that of Mr. Wynd¬
ham Goldie, whose Parnell is an aston¬
ishingly fine performance.
A Flundred Dears
Ago.
Excerpts krom“ Ebe Observer ok
Zanuary Ist, 1837.
THE SNCWSTORM.
During the past week the whole country
has been visited by a fall of snow heavier,
and more painful in its consequences, than
has been experienced for many years, It
began on Christmas Eve. Many mail
coaches were embedded in drifts.
The Duke of Wellington, travelling from
Marlborough in his own carriage-and-four
tothe mansion of the Duke of Beaufort,
was greatly delayed, his carriage getting
fixed in a wheat-field.
There was considerable difficulty in the
passages of the ordinary conveyances to
the City. Instead of fourteen omnibuses,
the usual number from Brentford, on Mon¬
day morning only three were able to take
the journev. All the omnibuses from Pad¬
dington, Highgate, Hampstead, Stratford.
and Hackney were drawn by three or four
horses. and several accidents happened on
Monday and Tuesday, many horses having
died on the road.
The Paris papers of Tuesday, which ar¬
rived by an extraordinary courier on Fri¬
day morning, contain an account of a new
attempt to assassmate the King of thef
French. His Majesty was driving from the.
Tuileries to open the Chambres. On
passing the Quai des Tuileries a young man
fired at the King. The shot passed throughg
the carrlage. The Duke of Orleans, who sats
by the side of the King, was slightly
wounded by the broken glass. The assassin
and two persons suspected of being accom¬
plices were taken into custody.
It is confidently expected that the whole.
line of the Londen and Birmingham rail¬
way will be completed early in the summer
of 1833. The communication between Lon¬
don and Hemel Hemsted will be opened to
the public on June 1 next, and will be con¬
tinued as far as Tring before the close of
the Fear
Mr. Monck Maron is proposing to go to
America in a balloon. This he judges pos¬
sible from the supposition that there are
contrary currents at different altitudes.—
Cumberland Pacquet.“
A fire which broke out in St. Peter’s
Church, Eaton-square, on Fridav evening,
#l. „
caused damage estimated at Pino
e
—u