Arms and the Man | Page 5

describes a whimsical situation we
never doubt for a moment that the author's point of view is our own and
that the abnormal predicament of his characters appeals to him in the
same light as to his audience. With Shaw this sense of community of
feeling is wholly lacking. He describes things as he sees them, and the
house is in a roar. Who is right? If we were really using our own senses
and not gazing through the glasses of convention and romance and
make-believe, should we see things as Shaw does?
Must it not cause Shaw to doubt his own or the public's sanity to hear
audiences laughing boisterously over tragic situations? And yet, if they
did not come to laugh, they would not come at all. Mockery is the price
he must pay for a hearing. Or has he calculated to a nicety the power of
reaction? Does he seek to drive us to aspiration by the portrayal of
sordidness, to disinterestedness by the picture of selfishness, to illusion
by disillusionment? It is impossible to believe that he is unconscious of
the humor of his dramatic situations, yet he stoically gives no sign. He
even dares the charge, terrible in proportion to its truth, which the most

serious of us shrinks from--the lack of a sense of humor. Men would
rather have their integrity impugned.
In "Arms and the Man" the subject which occupies the dramatist's
attention is that survival of barbarity--militarism--which raises its
horrid head from time to time to cast a doubt on the reality of our
civilization. No more hoary superstition survives than that the donning
of a uniform changes the nature of the wearer. This notion pervades
society to such an extent that when we find some soldiers placed upon
the stage acting rationally, our conventionalized senses are shocked.
The only men who have no illusions about war are those who have
recently been there, and, of course, Mr. Shaw, who has no illusions
about anything.
It is hard to speak too highly of "Candida." No equally subtle and
incisive study of domestic relations exists in the English drama. One
has to turn to George Meredith's "The Egoist" to find such character
dissection. The central note of the play is, that with the true woman,
weakness which appeals to the maternal instinct is more powerful than
strength which offers protection. Candida is quite unpoetic, as, indeed,
with rare exceptions, women are prone to be. They have small delight
in poetry, but are the stuff of which poems and dreams are made. The
husband glorying in his strength but convicted of his weakness, the
poet pitiful in his physical impotence but strong in his perception of
truth, the hopelessly de-moralized manufacturer, the conventional and
hence emotional typist make up a group which the drama of any
language may be challenged to rival.
In "The Man of Destiny" the object of the dramatist is not so much the
destruction as the explanation of the Napoleonic tradition, which has so
powerfully influenced generation after generation for a century.
However the man may be regarded, he was a miracle. Shaw shows that
he achieved his extraordinary career by suspending, for himself, the
pressure of the moral and conventional atmosphere, while leaving it
operative for others. Those who study this play--extravaganza, that it
is--will attain a clearer comprehension of Napoleon than they can get
from all the biographies.
"You Never Can Tell" offers an amusing study of the play of social
conventions. The "twins" illustrate the disconcerting effects of that
perfect frankness which would make life intolerable. Gloria

demonstrates the powerlessness of reason to overcome natural instincts.
The idea that parental duties and functions can be fulfilled by the light
of such knowledge as man and woman attain by intuition is brilliantly
lampooned. Crampton, the father, typifies the common superstition that
among the privileges of parenthood are inflexibility, tyranny, and
respect, the last entirely regardless of whether it has been deserved.
The waiter, William, is the best illustration of the man "who knows his
place" that the stage has seen. He is the most pathetic figure of the play.
One touch of verisimilitude is lacking; none of the guests gives him a
tip, yet he maintains his urbanity. As Mr. Shaw has not yet visited
America he may be unaware of the improbability of this situation.
To those who regard literary men merely as purveyors of amusement
for people who have not wit enough to entertain themselves, Ibsen and
Shaw, Maeterlinck and Gorky must remain enigmas. It is so much
pleasanter to ignore than to face unpleasant realities--to take Riverside
Drive and not Mulberry Street as the exponent of our life and the
expression of our civilization. These men are the sappers and miners of
the advancing army of justice.