man and superman-第1节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！






Man　and　Superman

A　COMEDY　AND　A　PHILOSOPHY

By　George　Bernard　Shaw





EPISTLE　DEDICATORY　TO　ARTHUR　BINGHAM　WALKLEY

My　dear　Walkley：

You　once　asked　me　why　I　did　not　write　a　Don　Juan　play。　The　levity
with　which　you　assumed　this　frightful　responsibility　has　probably
by　this　time　enabled　you　to　forget　it；　but　the　day　of　reckoning
has　arrived：　here　is　your　play！　I　say　your　play；　because　qui
facit　per　alium　facit　per　se。　Its　profits；　like　its　labor；　belong
to　me：　its　morals；　its　manners；　its　philosophy；　its　influence　on
the　young；　are　for　you　to　justify。　You　were　of　mature　age　when
you　made　the　suggestion；　and　you　knew　your　man。　It　is　hardly
fifteen　years　since；　as　twin　pioneers　of　the　New　Journalism　of
that　time；　we　two；　cradled　in　the　same　new　sheets；　made　an　epoch
in　the　criticism　of　the　theatre　and　the　opera　house　by　making　it
a　pretext　for　a　propaganda　of　our　own　views　of　life。　So　you
cannot　plead　ignorance　of　the　character　of　the　force　you　set　in
motion。　Yon　meant　me　to　epater　le　bourgeois；　and　if　he　protests；
I　hereby　refer　him　to　you　as　the　accountable　party。

I　warn　you　that　if　you　attempt　to　repudiate　your　responsibility；
I　shall　suspect　you　of　finding　the　play　too　decorous　for　your
taste。　The　fifteen　years　have　made　me　older　and　graver。　In　you　I
can　detect　no　such　becoming　change。　Your　levities　and　audacities
are　like　the　loves　and　comforts　prayed　for　by　Desdemona：　they
increase；　even　as　your　days　do　grow。　No　mere　pioneering　journal
dares　meddle　with　them　now：　the　stately　Times　itself　is　alone
sufficiently　above　suspicion　to　act　as　your　chaperone；　and　even
the　Times　must　sometimes　thank　its　stars　that　new　plays　are　not
produced　every　day；　since　after　each　such　event　its　gravity　is
compromised；　its　platitude　turned　to　epigram；　its　portentousness
to　wit；　its　propriety　to　elegance；　and　even　its　decorum　into
naughtiness　by　criticisms　which　the　traditions　of　the　paper　do
not　allow　you　to　sign　at　the　end；　but　which　you　take　care　to　sign
with　the　most　extravagant　flourishes　between　the　lines。　I　am　not
sure　that　this　is　not　a　portent　of　Revolution。　In　eighteenth
century　France　the　end　was　at　hand　when　men　bought　the
Encyclopedia　and　found　Diderot　there。　When　I　buy　the　Times　and
find　you　there；　my　prophetic　ear　catches　a　rattle　of　twentieth
century　tumbrils。

However；　that　is　not　my　present　anxiety。　The　question　is；　will
you　not　be　disappointed　with　a　Don　Juan　play　in　which　not　one　of
that　hero's　mille　e　tre　adventures　is　brought　upon　the　stage？　To
propitiate　you；　let　me　explain　myself。　You　will　retort　that　I
never　do　anything　else：　it　is　your　favorite　jibe　at　me　that　what
I　call　drama　is　nothing　but　explanation。　But　you　must　not　expect
me　to　adopt　your　inexplicable；　fantastic；　petulant；　fastidious
ways：　you　must　take　me　as　I　am；　a　reasonable；　patient；
consistent；　apologetic；　laborious　person；　with　the　temperament　of
a　schoolmaster　and　the　pursuits　of　a　vestryman。　No　doubt　that
literary　knack　of　mine　which　happens　to　amuse　the　British　public
distracts　attention　from　my　character；　but　the　character　is　there
none　the　less；　solid　as　bricks。　I　have　a　conscience；　and
conscience　is　always　anxiously　explanatory。　You；　on　the　contrary；
feel　that　a　man　who　discusses　his　conscience　is　much　like　a　woman
who　discusses　her　modesty。　The　only　moral　force　you　condescend　to
parade　is　the　force　of　your　wit：　the　only　demand　you　make　in
public　is　the　demand　of　your　artistic　temperament　for　symmetry；
elegance；　style；　grace；　refinement；　and　the　cleanliness　which
comes　next　to　godliness　if　not　before　it。　But　my　conscience　is
the　genuine　pulpit　article：　it　annoys　me　to　see　people
comfortable　when　they　ought　to　be　uncomfortable；　and　I　insist　on
making　them　think　in　order　to　bring　them　to　conviction　of　sin。　If
you　don't　like　my　preaching　you　must　lump　it。　I　really　cannot
help　it。

In　the　preface　to　my　Plays　for　Puritans　I　explained　the
predicament　of　our　contemporary　English　drama；　forced　to　deal
almost　exclusively　with　cases　of　sexual　attraction；　and　yet
forbidden　to　exhibit　the　incidents　of　that　attraction　or　even　to
discuss　its　nature。　Your　suggestion　that　I　should　write　a　Don
Juan　play　was　virtually　a　challenge　to　me　to　treat　this　subject
myself　dramatically。　The　challenge　was　difficult　enough　to　be
worth　accepting；　because；　when　you　come　to　think　of　it；　though　we
have　plenty　of　dramas　with　heroes　and　heroines　who　are　in　love
and　must　accordingly　marry　or　perish　at　the　end　of　the　play；　or
about　people　whose　relations　with　one　another　have　been
complicated　by　the　marriage　laws；　not　to　mention　the　looser　sort
of　plays　which　trade　on　the　tradition　that　illicit　love　affairs
are　at　once　vicious　and　delightful；　we　have　no　modern　English
plays　in　which　the　natural　attraction　of　the　sexes　for　one
another　is　made　the　mainspring　of　the　action。　That　is　why　we
insist　on　beauty　in　our　performers；　differing　herein　from　the
countries　our　friend　William　Archer　holds　up　as　examples　of
seriousness　to　our　childish　theatres。　There　the　Juliets　and
Isoldes；　the　Romeos　and　Tristans；　might　be　our　mothers　and
fathers。　Not　so　the　English　actress。　The　heroine　she　impersonates
is　not　allowed　to　discuss　the　elemental　relations　of　men　and
women：　all　her　romantic　twaddle　about　novelet…made　love；　all　her
purely　legal　dilemmas　as　to　whether　she　was　married　or
〃betrayed；〃　quite　miss　our　hearts　and　worry　our　minds。　To　console
ourselves　we　must　just　look　at　her。　We　do　so；　and　her　beauty
feeds　our　starving　emotions。　Sometimes　we　grumble　ungallantly　at
the　lady　because　she　does　not　act　as　well　as　she　looks。　But　in　a
drama　which；　with　all　its　preoccupation　with　sex；　is　really　void
of　sexual　interest；　good　looks　are　more　desired　than　histrionic
skill。

Let　me　press　this　point　on　you；　since　you　are　too　clever　to　raise
the　fool's　cry　of　paradox　whenever　I　take　hold　of　a　stick　by　the
right　instead　of　the　wrong　end。　Why　are　our　occasional　attempts
to　deal　with　the　sex　problem　on　the　stage　so　repulsive　and　dreary
that　even　those　who　are　most　determined　that　sex　questions　shall
be　held　open　and　their　discussion　kept　free；　cannot　pretend　to
relish　these　joyless　attempts　at　social　sanitation？　Is　it　not
because　at　bottom　they　are　utterly　sexless？　What　is　the　usual
formula　for　such　plays？　A　woman　has；　on　some　past　occasion；　been
brought　into　conflict　with　the　law　which　regulates　the　relations
of　the　sexes。　A　man；　by　falling　in　love　with　her；　or　marrying
her；　is　brought　into　conflict　with　the　social　convention　which
discountenances　the　woman。　Now　the　conflicts　of　individuals　with
law　and　convention　can　be　dramatized　like　all　other　human
conflicts；　but　they　are　purely　judicial；　and　the　fact　that　we　are
much　more　curious　about　the　suppressed　relations　between　the　man
and　the　woman　than　about　the　relations　between　both　and　our
courts　of　law　and　private　juries　of　matrons；　produces　that
sensation　of　evasion；　of　dissatisfaction；　of　fundamental
irrelevance；　of　shallowness；　of　useless　disagreeableness；　of
total　failure　to　edify　and　partial　failure　to　interest；　which　is
as　familiar　to　you　in　the　theatres　as　it　was　to　me　when　I；　too；
frequented　those　uncomfortable　buildings；　and　found　our　popular
playwrights　in　the　mind　to　（as　they　thought）　emulate　Ibsen。

I　take　it　that　when　you　asked　me　for　a　Don　Juan　play　you　did　not
want　that　sort　of　thing。　Nobody　does：　the　successes　such　plays
sometimes　obtain　are　due　to　the　incidental　conventional　melodrama
with　which　the　experienced　popular　author　instinctively　saves
himself　from　failure。　But　what　did　you　want？　Owing　to　your
unfortunate　habityou　now；　I　hope；　feel　its　inconvenienceof
not　explaining　yourself；　I　have　had　to　discover　this　for　myself。
First；　then；　I　have　had　to　ask　myself；　what　is　a　Don　Juan？
Vulgarly；　a　libertine。　But　your　dislike　of　vulgarity　is　pushed　to
the　length　of　a　defect　（universality　of　character　is　impossible
without　a　share　of　vulgarity）；　and　even　if　you　could　acquire　the
taste；　you　would　find　yourself　overfed　from　ordinary　sources
without　troubling　me。　So　I　took　it　that　you　demanded　a　Don　Juan
in　the　philosophic　sense。

Philosophically；　Don　Juan　is　a　man　who；　though　gifted　enough　to
be　exceptionally　capable　of　distinguishing　between　good　and　evil；
follows　his　own　instincts　without　regard　to　the　common　statute；
or　canon　law；　and　therefore；　whilst　gaining　the　ardent　sympathy
of　our　rebellious　instincts　（which　are　flattered　by　the
brilliancies　with　which　Don　Juan　associates　them）　finds　himself
in　mortal　conflict　with　existing　institutions；　and　defends
himself　by　fraud　and　farce　as　unscrupulously　as　a　farmer　defends
his　crops　by　the　same　means　against　vermin。　The　prototypic　Don
Juan；　invented　early　in　the　XVI　century　by　a　Spanish　monk；　was
presented；　according　to　the　ideas　of　that　time；　as　the　enemy　of
God；　the　approach　of　whose　vengeance　is　felt　throughout　the
drama；　growing　in　menace　from　minute　to　minute。　No　anxiety　is
caused　on　Don　Juan's　account　by　any　minor　antagonist：　he　easily
eludes　the　police；　temporal　and　spiritual；　and　when　an　indignant
father　seeks　private　redress　with　the　sword；　Don　Juan　kills　him
without　an　effort。　Not　until　the　slain　father　returns　from　heaven
as　the　agent