Doña Clarines y Mañana de Sol | Page 4

character
study of much power and truth. El genio alegre (1906), flooded in southern sunshine and
perfume, is truly a hymn to the joy of living, and it is the favorite in Spain of all the long
plays. A remarkable piece of dramatic technic is La flor de la vida (1910), a three-act
play in which only two characters take part. The conflict between the lure of the stage
and the attraction of the home in a woman's heart was never stated more clearly or more
logically left unsolved than in Pepita Reyes (1903), a very perfect piece of work. Still, the
most finished of all the longer efforts is _Las flores, comedia en tres actos_ (1901). The
plot is so simple that it will scarcely bear analysis, but the setting is so redolent of flowers
and shot through with light, the dialog so restrained and suggestive, the characters so well
studied, that one feels in this play the inevitableness of a masterpiece. An artist compared
it to a painting of Velázquez, in that the authors sketched with the fewest possible strokes
an epitome of Andalusian life. Here there is much sentiment, but no sentimentality. Las
flores was coldly received by both audience and critics at its first performance, but since
then the latter, at least, have made ample amends.[E]
[Footnote E: Las flores has been highly praised by R. Altamira, J.O. Picón, and other
esteemed Spanish writers. Manuel Bueno, by no means partial to the Quinteros, speaks of
it as "una de las obras más bellas, intensas y veraces del teatro español contemporáneo".]
The lyric quality predominates in other plays beside _Las flores_; notably in La rima
eterna (1910), which is an expansion and interpretation of a famous Rima of Bécquer,
and a worthy tribute to his memory. The Quinteros have not acquired fame as versifiers,
perhaps because their extraordinary power of visualizing characters made them
dramatists instead, but their interest in poets is as obvious as the poetic quality of their
thought. Bécquer is the favorite, and Campoamor and Luis de León have furnished texts
for certain plays, while one,
Malvaloca, is inspired by an Andalusian copla.
A word as to the language employed by the Quinteros. Southerners themselves, they
revel in the Andalusian speech forms, and few of their plays do not contain one or two
characters who use them. To those who love the soft accent of Seville and Cadiz, this will
prove no draw-back, but an added charm. Yet when one reflects that writings in dialect,
even if they are the work of a Goldoni, cannot fail to drop soon out of the current of
active literary influence, it is much to be regretted that such remarkable compositions as
Las flores, El patio and the racy sainetes are doomed to pass quickly from the stage on
that account alone.

The dialog of the Quinteros is lively and natural, at times sparkling with wit--they are
inveterate punsters--, and again charged with rich, quiet humor. Long speeches are rare.
Their Castilian is highly idiomatic, but not free from Gallicisms and slang. For this
reason it has not the value as a pure speech-type that one finds in their Andalusian
writings.
According to the latest information, 19 of their plays have been translated into Italian, six
into German, two into French, one into Dutch and one into Portuguese. It may be hoped
that English will not long remain conspicuously absent from the list.
III
The drama may be a vehicle for any mental concept: satire, ethics, cynicism, philosophy,
realism, poetry, social problems, melodrama. Sane optimism and realism suffused with
poetry are the inspiring forces of the brothers Quintero. They have no thesis to prove,
except that life is sweet and worth living; no didactic aim, except to show that human
nature is still sound in the main. It is a distinct relief to read plays so natural and serene,
after one has surfeited upon the products of many contemporary continental playwrights,
the monotony of whose subject-matter is so obvious that not even supreme technical skill
can conceal the sterility of the authors. The eternal triangle, the threadbare motivation
into which true affection never enters for a moment, have been ridden to death, and even
a French critic is led to comment with resignation upon "this completely unmoral world
which is almost the only one we are permitted to see upon the stage". [F] When literature
becomes so far separated from life, it needs to be led back to reality, and the excuse, often
made, that the average person's life is not an interesting theme for dramatic presentment,
argues nothing but impotence on the part of the writers. There has never been an age nor
a place where average life did not contain potential material for a creative writer. The