Arms and the Man | Page 4

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Arms and the Man
by George Bernard Shaw

INTRODUCTION
To the irreverent--and which of us will claim entire exemption from
that comfortable classification?--there is something very amusing in the
attitude of the orthodox criticism toward Bernard Shaw. He so
obviously disregards all the canons and unities and other things which
every well-bred dramatist is bound to respect that his work is really
unworthy of serious criticism (orthodox). Indeed he knows no more
about the dramatic art than, according to his own story in "The Man of
Destiny," Napoleon at Tavazzano knew of the Art of War. But both
men were successes each in his way--the latter won victories and the
former gained audiences, in the very teeth of the accepted theories of
war and the theatre. Shaw does not know that it is unpardonable sin to
have his characters make long speeches at one another, apparently
thinking that this embargo applies only to long speeches which consist
mainly of bombast and rhetoric. There never was an author who
showed less predilection for a specific medium by which to accomplish
his results. He recognized, early in his days, many things awry in the
world and he assumed the task of mundane reformation with a
confident spirit. It seems such a small job at twenty to set the times
aright. He began as an Essayist, but who reads essays now-a-days?--he
then turned novelist with no better success, for no one would read such
preposterous stuff as he chose to emit. He only succeeded in proving
that absolutely rational men and women--although he has created few
of the latter--can be most extremely disagreeable to our conventional
way of thinking.
As a last resort, he turned to the stage, not that he cared for the dramatic
art, for no man seems to care less about "Art for Art's sake," being in
this a perfect foil to his brilliant compatriot and contemporary, Wilde.
He cast his theories in dramatic forms merely because no other course
except silence or physical revolt was open to him. For a long time it
seemed as if this resource too was doomed to fail him. But finally he
has attained a hearing and now attempts at suppression merely serve to

advertise their victim.
It will repay those who seek analogies in literature to compare Shaw
with Cervantes. After a life of heroic endeavor, disappointment, slavery,
and poverty, the author of "Don Quixote" gave the world a serious
work which caused to be laughed off the world's stage forever the final
vestiges of decadent chivalry.
The institution had long been outgrown, but its vernacular continued to
be the speech and to express the thought "of the world and among the
vulgar," as the quaint, old novelist puts it, just as to-day the novel
intended for the consumption of the unenlightened must deal with peers
and millionaires and be dressed in stilted language. Marvellously he
succeeded, but in a way he least intended. We have not yet, after so
many years, determined whether it is a work to laugh or cry over. "It is
our joyfullest modern book," says Carlyle, while Landor thinks that
"readers who see nothing more than a burlesque in 'Don Quixote' have
but shallow appreciation of the work."
Shaw in like manner comes upon the scene when many of our social
usages are outworn. He sees the fact, announces it, and we burst into
guffaws. The continuous laughter which greets Shaw's plays arises
from a real contrast in the point of view of the dramatist and his
audiences. When Pinero or Jones