Curtain58
Though a new twist is given our emotions, is not something lost to the artistry of the play?
If the means to climax be various, the ways in which it may elude a writer are several. If an audience foresees it, much of the value of climax, perhaps all, disappears. Bulwer-Lytton, in writing Money, recognized this:
And principally with regard to Act 5 I don’t feel easy. The first idea suggested by you & worked on by me was of course to carry on Evelyn’s trick to the last—& bring in the creditors &c when it is discovered that he is as rich as ever. I so made Act 5 at first. But... the trick was so palpable to the audience that having been carried thro’ Acts 3 & 4, it became stale in Act 5—& the final discovery was much less comic than you w^d suppose.59
If anticipating a climax will impair it for an audience, repetition may kill it. In the civic masque, Caliban,60 as performed, many of the historical scenes were introduced in the same way: Ariel asked his master, Prospero, what he should show him next, and at his bidding summoned the episode. No variety in phrasing could surmount the monotony of this. There was consequent loss in suspense and climax.
It is easy, also, to miss possible climax by using more at a given point than is absolutely necessary. Sometimes it is wiser to postpone part or all of thoroughly desirable material for later treatment. In the novel, Les Oberlé,61 father and daughter sympathize with the Germans, mother and son with the old French tradition. In patriarchal fashion, the half-paralytic grandfather, as head of the house, keeps the keys. When a young German officer, favored by the daughter, asks her hand, feeling becomes intense and strained between the parents and the brother and the sister. Suddenly the old paralytic enters, half-supported by his attendant. Furious to think of his granddaughter as the wife of a German he cries, with a superb gesture of dismissal, “Clear out! This is my house!” (Va t’en! Ici chez moi!) The dramatizer saw that with the accompanying action of all concerned, especially the silent going of the German suitor, “Ici chez moi” made a sufficient climax. Therefore, with a touch of real genius, he saved the “Va t’en” for a climax to a totally different scene. Later in the play, Jean, who has determined to escape across the French boundary rather than serve longer in the German army, has been locked in his room by his outraged father. As usual, after the house has been locked up for the night, the keys have been handed to the old, half-paralytic grandfather, who lies sleepless in a room near Jean’s. Learning from Uncle Ulrich what has occurred, the grandfather totters into the living room with his keys. Unlocking Jean’s door, with a fine gesture of affection, and command toward the outer door, he cries to Jean, “Va.” Here the dramatist gets two fine climaxes where the novelist gained but one.
Sometimes a very effective climax at a given point should be postponed because it will be even more effective later, and if given the first position would check preferable movement in the play. At the end of Act IV of Magda (Heimat) by Sudermann, we seem all ready for a scene in which Magda confesses the truth about her past life to her father.
Schwartze. Magda,—I want Magda.
Marie. (Goes to the door and opens it.) She’s coming now,—down the stairs.
Schwartze. So! (Pulls himself together with an effort.)
Marie. (Clasping her hands.) Don’t hurt her!
(Pauses with the door open. Magda is seen descending the stairs. She enters in travelling dress, hat in hand, very pale but calm.)
Magda. I heard you call, father.
Schwartze. I have something to say to you.
Magda. And I to you.
Schwartze. Go in,—into my room.
Magda. Yes, father.
(She goes to the door left. Schwartze follows her. Marie, who has drawn back frightened to the dining-room, makes an unseen gesture of entreaty.)62
Now, any interview between Magda and her father will both unduly lengthen an act already long and bring the play well into its final climax. Stopping the act here creates superb suspense. Starting a new act under slightly different conditions keeps all the suspense created by Act IV and intensifies it by new details. The new act gives us the chance easily to introduce von Keller, who is needed if the play is to be more than another treatment of the erring daughter confessing her sin to her father. Just through him comes emphasis which gives special meaning to the play. Therefore, we gain by postponing the full confession from the end of Act IV till well toward the end of Act V.
Evidently, climax rests on (a) right feeling for order in presenting ideas; (b) a correct sense of what is weaker and what is stronger in phrasing emotions; and (c) just appreciation of the feeling of the audience toward the emotions presented. For both clearness and climax it is usually a wise rule to consider but one idea at a time. In the following illustration, column 1 shows confusion, because three subjects—the fan, the greeting, and the compliment of Lady Windermere—are started at the same time. In column 2, quoted from Miss Anglin’s acting version of Lady Windermere’s Fan, treating each of these subjects in its natural sequence brings both clearness and climax.
| Parker. Mrs. Erlynne. | Parker. Mrs. Erlynne. |
| (Lord Windermere starts. Mrs. Erlynne enters, very beautifully dressed and very dignified. Lady Windermere clutches at her fan, then lets it drop on the floor. She bows coldly to Mrs. Erlynne, who bows to her sweetly in turn, and sails into the room.) | (Lord Windermere starts. Mrs. Erlynne enters, very beautifully dressed and very dignified. Lady Windermere clutches at her fan, then lets it drop on the floor. She bows coldly to Mrs. Erlynne, who bows to her sweetly in turn, and sails into the room.) |
| Lord Darlington. You have dropped your fan, Lady Windermere. | Mrs. Erlynne. (C.) How do you do again, Lord Windermere? |
| (Picks it up and hands it to her.) | Lord Darlington. You have dropped your fan, Lady Windermere. |
| Mrs. Erlynne. (C.) How do you do again, Lord Windermere? How charming your sweet wife looks! Quite a picture! | (Picks it up and hands it to her.) |
| Lord Windermere. (In a low voice.) It was terribly rash of you to come! | Lord Windermere. (In a low voice.) It was terribly rash of you to come! |
| Mrs. Erlynne. (Smiling.) The wisest thing I ever did in my life. And, by the way, you must pay me a good deal of attention this evening. | Mrs. Erlynne. (Smiling.) The wisest thing I ever did in my life. How charming your sweet wife looks! Quite a picture! And, by the way, you must pay me a good deal of attention this evening.63 |
In the next extract, note that omission of “I want to live childless still” and shifting the position of the words “For twenty years, as you say, I have lived childless” permit an actress to work up to the strongest climax of the speech, when spoken, “They made me suffer too much.” Miss Anglin, trained by years of experience to great sensitiveness to the emotional values of words, has here arranged the sentences better than the author himself.
Lord Windermere. What do you mean by coming here this morning? What is your object? Lord Windermere. What do you mean by coming here this morning? What is your object?
(Crossing L.C. and sitting.) (Crossing L.C. and sitting.)
Mrs. Erlynne. (With a note of irony in her voice.) To bid good-bye to my dear daughter, of course. (Lord Windermere bites his underlip in anger. Mrs. Erlynne looks at him, and her voice and manner become serious. In her accents as she talks there is a note of deep tragedy. For a moment she reveals herself.) Oh, don’t imagine I am going to have a pathetic scene with her, weep on her neck and tell her who I am, and all that kind of thing. I have no ambition to play the part of mother. Only once in my life have I known a mother’s feelings. That was last night. They were terrible—they made me suffer—they made me suffer too much. For twenty years, as you say, I have lived childless—I want to live childless still. Mrs. Erlynne. (With a note of irony in her voice.) To bid good-bye to my dear daughter, of course. (Lord Windermere bites his underlip in anger. Mrs. Erlynne looks at him, and her voice and manner become serious. In her accents as she talks there is a note of deep tragedy. For a moment she reveals herself.) Oh, don’t imagine I am going to have a pathetic scene with her, weep on her neck and tell her who I am, and all that kind of thing. I have no ambition to play the part of mother. For twenty years, as you say, I have lived childless. Only once in my life have I known a mother’s feelings. That was last night. They were terrible—they made me suffer—they made me suffer too much.64
When an eighteenth-century manager, in his production of The School for Scandal, had colored fire set off in the wings as the falling screen revealed Lady Teazle, he failed of his intended effect because he thought that for his audience the falling of the screen was climactic. Really, of course, the enjoyment of the audience, as it listens to the dialogue, knowing that Lady Teazle overhears, is the chief source of pleasure. It is the dismay of Sir Peter, when he sees who is really behind the screen, which makes the climax. That dismay is not greater against a background of red fire. Crowded with action as the end of Hamlet is, we close it in acting, not on the fatal wounding of Hamlet, but either on his words, “The rest is silence,” or as the soldiers of Fortinbras march out with Hamlet’s body on their shields. Experience has proved that a stronger climax for an audience lies in those words or in seeing the procession which passes among the kneeling courtiers, stronger than from all the noisy emotions which have just preceded. In brief, except when we feel sure that we have made our feeling as to the emotions of a scene or act the public’s, it is they who must determine where the climax lies. Where it rests we must in all cases of doubt decide from our past experience of the public and present observation of it.
From all these illustrations it must be clear that the only rule for finding climax is: Understand clearly the audience for which you intend your play; create in it the sympathetic relation toward your characters you wish; then you may be sure that what seems to you a climax for your scene will be so for your audience.
Movement depends, then, on clearness, unity, emphasis, and a right feeling for suspense and climax. This movement may be steadily upward, as in the last scene of Hamlet, or it may have the wave-like advance found in Sigurjónsson’s Eyvind of the Hills65 or Sir Arthur Pinero’s The Gay Lord Quex. The emotional interest in each of these sweeps up to a pure climax, drops back part way for a fresh start, and then advances to a stronger climax.
Granted that a would-be playwright understands the proportioning of his work and the correct development of it for clearness, emphasis and movement, he is ready to repeat the words of Ibsen: “I have just completed a play in five acts, that is to say, the rough draft of it. Now comes the elaboration, the more energetic individualization of the persons, and their modes of expression.”66 He is ready to perfect his characterization and dialogue.
1 Ancient Classical Drama, chap. VII, “Elements of Comedy.” Moulton. Clarendon Press, Oxford.
2 The “Choephori” of Æschylus. Introduction, p. xvi. A. W. Verral. The Macmillan Co., New York.
3 The Rising of the Moon, Lady Gregory. Contemporary Dramatists. T. H. Dickinson, ed. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston.
4 Mme. Sans Gêne, Prologue, Scene 1. Sardou and Moreau. Samuel French, New York.
5 Lonely Lives, Act IV. The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann, vol. III, p. 265. Ludwig Lewisohn, ed. B. W. Huebsch, New York.
6 Farces, “The Galloper,” Act I. Richard Harding Davis. Copyright, 1906, by Chas. Scribner’s Sons, New York.
7 The Lonely Way, etc. Three Plays by Arthur Schnitzler. Translated by E. Björkman. Mitchell Kennerley.
8 Phædra, Act I. Racine. Translated by R. B. Boswell. Chief European Dramatists. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston.
9 Works, vol. 3. W. Gifford and Dyce. Murray, London.
10 The Rehearsal, Act I. The Duke of Buckingham. Bell’s British Theatre, vol. XV. London, 1780.
11 The Lady of Andros, Act I. Terence. Translated by J. Sargeaunt. The Macmillan Co., New York; W. Heinemann, London.
12 The Lady of Andros, Act III.
13 Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston; W. Heinemann, London.
14 Théâtre Complet, vol. II. Calmann Lévy, Paris.
15 Théâtre, vol. II. Michel Lévy frères, Paris.
16 Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston.
17 Magda, translated by A. E. A. Winslow. Lamson, Wolffe & Co., Boston.
18 From Ibsen’s Workshop, pp. 271-272. Translated by A. G. Chater. Copyright, 1911, by Chas. Scribner’s Sons, New York.
19 Idem, pp. 288-289.
20 Ibsen’s Prose Dramas, vol. V, Walter Scott, London; Chas. Scribner’s Sons, New York.
21 Letters of Henrik Ibsen, p. 291. Fox, Duffield & Co., New York.
22 Some Platitudes concerning Drama. Atlantic Monthly, December, 1909.
23 Othello, Act III, Scene 3.
24 Lady Windermere’s Fan, Act I. Oscar Wilde. J. W. Luce & Co., Boston.
25 Duffield & Co., New York.
26 Plays. G. P. Putnam’s Sons, New York.
27 Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston; W. Heinemann, London.
28 The Trail of the Torch, Paul Hervieu. Translated by J. H. Haughton. Drama League Series, vol. XII. Doubleday Page & Co., New York.
29 The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann, vol. VI, Introduction, p. xi, Ludwig Lewisohn, ed. B. W. Huebsch, New York.
30 The Macmillan Co. publish both forms.
31 Nathan Hale, Act IV, Scene 2. Clyde Fitch. Little, Brown & Co., Boston.
32 Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston; W. Heinemann, London.
33 Idem.
34 Pp. 143-45. R. H. Russell, New York. Also published by Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston.
35 Act IV, Scene 2. The Macmillan Co.
36 Contemporary Dramatists. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston.
37 J. W. Luce & Co., Boston.
38 Translated by May Hendee. Doubleday, McClure & Co., New York.
39 Plays of Oscar Wilde, vol. II. J. W. Luce & Co., Boston.
40 The Fantasticks, pp. 145-146. Translated by George Fleming. R. H. Russell, New York.
41 Samuel French, New York.
42 The Devonshire Hamlets, pp. 34-46. Sampson Low, Son & Co., London.
43 Letters of Bulwer-Lytton to Macready, LXIII. Brander Matthews, ed.
44 Hamburg Dramaturgy, p. 377. Lessing. Bohn, ed.
45 Play-Making, pp. 171-172. William Archer. Small, Maynard & Co., Boston.
46 The Troublesome Raigne of King Iohn, pp. 279-280; Shakespeare’s Library, vol. V. Reeves & Turner, London.
47 The Good Hope, Act III. Herman Heijermans. The Drama, November, 1912.
48 See pp. 29-30.
49 Washington Square Plays; The Clod..\ Lewis Beach. Drama League Series, No. XX. Doubleday, Page & Co., New York.
50 The Autobiography of Joseph Jefferson, pp. 210-211. Century Co., New York.
51 The DeWitt Publishing House, New York.
52 Monsieur Poirier’s Son-in-Law, Act I. Emile Augier. Translated by B. H. Clark. A. Knopf, New York.
53 The Amazons, Act III. Sir Arthur Pinero. Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston.
54 Herod, A Tragedy, Act. II. Stephen Phillips. John Lane, New York.
55 J. W. Luce & Co., Boston; Sidgwick & Jackson, Ltd., London.
56 The Fantasticks, Act III. Edmond Rostand. Translated by Geo. Fleming. R. H. Russell & Co., New York.
57 Morituri, Fritzshen, Herman-Sudermann. Translated by Archibald Alexander. Copyright, 1910, by Chas. Scribner’s Sons, New York.
58 Idem.
59 Letters of Bulwer-Lytton to Macready, Brander Matthews, ed.
60 Doubleday, Page & Co., New York.
61 Les Oberlé. René Bazin. Dramatized by E. Haraucourt. L’Illustration Théâtrale, December 9, 1905, p. 14.
62 Magda. Translated by C. E. A. Winslow. Lamson, Wolffe & Co., Boston.
63 Lady Windermere’s Fan, Act II. Oscar Wilde. Acting version as arranged by Miss Margaret Anglin.
64 Idem, Act IV. Acting version as arranged by Miss Margaret Anglin.
65 Eyvind of the Hills, J. Sigurjónsson. American Scandinavian Society, New York.
66 From Ibsen’s Workshop, p. 8. Copyright, 1911, by Chas. Scribner’s Sons, New York.