Monday, 17 August 2015


NAVSA 2015 Annual Conference – Victorians and the World



Surreal Foliage: Banang Trees

I have just come back from an extremely informative and rewarding conference at this year's NAVSA annual conference, Victorians and the World, held in Honolulu, Hawaii. I delivered a paper inspired by certain aspects that have popped up whilst I've been conducting the research for my thesis. Over the course of my study, I have noticed that as the century approached it's close, the style of the plays became progressively more realistic. However, in my paper I attribute this solely to the work of Henrik Ibsen. However, it is possible to identify elements of realism which predate Ibsen’s popular years by twenty or even thirty years in some of the plays. As such, whilst my paper for NAVSA posed that it was Ibsen’s influence that was changing the style of the plays so dramatically from one another (and the original sources), I now seek to identify the pre-Ibsen stage adaptations, which are ‘realistic’.

At the conference, a recently finished PhD student from the University of South Florida, Dan Brown, delivered a paper, which was appropriately (and somewhat embarrassingly) right before mine. In it, he refuted Ibsen's title as the father of the realism and rightly so. I then had to awkwardly stand up and follow Dan’s paper, which had thoroughly denied Ibsen his commonly accepted title, and lay the full stylistic changes I had recognised in my studies at Ibsen’s feet along, as such before I started speaking I had to nod to the fact that in that paper I was accepting Ibsen as the sole father of realism, but that there is plenty of evidence to show that he is not. I added that, what's more his crown needs to be re-evaluated in the light of new evidence. 

Certainly as the century reaches the fin-de-siècle, elements of realism became more frequent and more noticeable in the adaptations. In James Willings’ (1879) and Wills’ (1882) productions of Jane Eyre. They both focus on character development and show Jane struggling with her inner desire to be with Rochester despite his existing marriage. A vital element of the theatrical style of realism is the presentation of controversial issues. Both Wills and Willings present a discussion of delicate social issues. Willings’ goes so far as to present the burgeoning women’s movement with the ‘female sisterhood’ frequently invoked (Stoneman 2007: 330-331 and 336). Pre-dating both Wills and Willings, Charlotte Birch-Pfeiffer's adaptation of Jane Eyre from 1870 contains many elements that are recognisable as realism. Her production, and she herself, was German. This is particularly revealing regarding the state of European literature and Art in the nineteenth-century, as Ibsen himself was from Norway of course. On a separate note, it would be very interesting to chart specific plays in date order on a map to see whether the theatrical style of realism did originate in Northern and Central Europe before reaching Britain.

Birch Pfeiffer’s ‘realistic’ German adaptation is marked by the fact that it was the first one to entirely cut the novel’s telepathy scene between Jane and Rochester. The only British adaptation to do so was Willing’s in 1879. The omission of this scene in both plays indicates a definite move away from not only the sensationalism and Gothic aspects of the original source, but also a move away from the theatrical style employed by the earlier adaptations. The scene does re-appear in Wills’ production in 1882, however it is not shown directly on the stage and is only referred to by Jane on her arrival at Ferndean as a ‘vision’ to explain her return to Rochester. Evidently by 1870 the sensation of this scene had lost its charm for the Victorian audiences.

Examples of pre-Ibsen realism also extend to the stage adaptations of Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s Lady Audley’s Secret. In John Brougham’s adaptation of Lady Audley’s Secret (1866) the focus of the play is on social responsibility. A key aspect of realism is the presentation of taboo subjects and Lady Audley is shown being pushed to the edge by a restrictive patriarchal society as she is not given the much needed support she requires as an abandoned wife with a child to feed. This is the message that Brougham ultimately presents. He also indicates that Lady Audley may well have committed bad acts, but that ultimately she was not a bad woman. He lays the blame of Lady Audley’s ‘madness’ firmly at the audience’s feet by having Lady Audley accuse everyone gathered around her in the play’s climax for goading her to ‘madness’. You can easily see her stood on the stage in this scene, not just pointing at the characters gathered around her but at the audience too. For Brougham, crucially it was that Lady Audley tried to escape the restrictions imposed on her by a cruel, patriarchal society that made her ‘mad’ in the eyes of society. Or more succinctly, she was mad because she refused to conform. 

The stage adaptations of Mrs Henry Wood’s East Lynne (1863) also presents evidence of the move towards more realistic theatre. Hamilton Hume’s adaptation from 1863 is the most sensational as a result of its use of dramatic, emotive language, asides and soliloquies and tableaux; key elements of the style. However as the nineteenth-century progressed the use of these dramatic devices declines as the chart below shows.

Number of Tableaux/Pictures
Author
No. of Tableaux / Pictures
Hamilton Hume 1863
7
Spencer 1865
2
Palmer 1874
1 1
Dick 1879
0

Whilst Dick’s production takes place on the edge of Ibsen’s most popular period starting, what this chart shows is that the style of the works performed in, what are dismissively called, minor theatres was changing before Ibsen became really successful.


As a final note, the most significant thing I took away from this year’s NAVSA conference was not an organised event or a planned meeting, it was something completely organic deriving from the pooling of all of our areas of research and the resulting discussions. Every year people will leave NAVSA with a completely new thought that will lead them on to a new path of enquiry or make them completely re-evaluate their whole research. This will largely be for the better, as was my personal experience. NAVSA has enriched my already significant research to date, not just by informing me of new authors or events, but by just encouraging deeper thought and greater probing. 

Sunday, 9 August 2015

Review of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell BBC Adaptation





Susannah Clarke’s 2004 breakthrough novel has been beautifully adapted to the small screen, albeit very loosely! But that's the joy of adaptation, you don't have to be strict. The adaptor has complete control over his or her vision of the story. The only problem is that readers are very protective over their own interpretations of the story, confusing their individual, very personal reading experiences with the hard and fast and only true interpretation of the story.

In terms of the key differences between the original source and the adapted series, both the opening and the conclusion sequences are dramatically different. I won't say how here; no spoilers! However, it is important to recognise that they are different, and to understand that the differences derive from the difficulty in transferring a story from one medium to the other.
This means that some elements of the story may be lost due to either the practicalities of filming some particularly fantastical scenes, and also the confines of the time allotted to either the episodes in the series or the running length of the film. The events are also sped up to fill the time. For this BBC mini-series this means that the story moves along at a speedy but pleasant pace making it highly enjoyable to watch. The Napoleonic war scenes are particularly tense and emotive because of this.

What works really well is the characterisation of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, played by Bertie Carvel and Eddie Marsan respectively. They are more believable and likeable in this series than in the book. Even at their lowest moments they are endearing and captivating. The gentleman with the thistledown hair, played by Marc Warren, was eery and dangerous, presenting not just a threat to Lady Pole and Jonathan Strange, but a very real threat to humanity itself.

The costumes and set are brilliant with real continuity to the past. And the special effects are truly magical!

The unexpected unhappy ending left me wanting another series, I also experienced this when I was reading the original. The date for the sequel is still to be confirmed. In 2004 Susannah Clarke stated that she was writing the sequel but that it instead follows Vinculus and Childermass so maybe I won't get the closure I desire for Jonathan, Arabella and Mr Norrell.

All in all, this is an adaptation to watch but try to just sit back, relax and enjoy the show and celebrate the director’s interpretation by not getting caught up in your own interpretation of the story.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

The RSC’s The Merchant of Venice - August 1st 2015



Over the weekend, I pottered up to Stratford for yet another expedition to the RSC. This excursion was a very gratefully received Christmas present from my boyfriend’s sister and it ended up being the most innovative stocking filler ever! (Thanks again Cat!)

The director, Polly Findlay, took her production in a completely different direction to any I've ever seen before, and possibly of any I think I'll likely ever see again. Her, as far as I'm aware, completely original interpretation of Antonio’s motivation for agreeing to the heavy terms of  Shylock’s loan, was rooted in the gay love affair between the much younger Bassiano and Antonio. Bassiano’s marriage to Portia therefore became a kind of cover marriage. Making Portia’s later frustration with Bassiano having discovered he had given away her ring (albeit to her in disguise) even more relatable. Because disguised as the young but ingenious doctor, she had witnessed the aftermath of Antonio and Bassiano celebrating the success of defeating Shylock, by publicly kissing … a lot.

This approach is one I’d never considered, or even heard of before, but for me it makes complete sense in the context of the play. It had always seemed strange that Antonio had been willing to risk so much for a friend, but when the potential ‘win’ is a cover marriage so that they can carry on their love affair undisturbed, it seems a lot more comprehensible that Antonio accepted the terms of the loan.  It might seem very unsympathetic to the original context of the play, you might assume that the Elizabethans were very conservative. There is a trend of assuming our ancestors, like the Victorians, were very conservative. This is not the case in either the Elizabethan or the Jacobean periods. Male love was for more accepted in these periods than in many other. This is largely due to the Renaissance, anything classically Greek or Roman was admired and emulated. Today one of those lesser discussed elements , was homo-erotica and male love. The mighty warrior Alexander the Great was a homosexual. And so for the Tudors homosexuality was not as shameful as it became for us in later centuries. We now know that there were many male courtiers in King James I’s court who were as queer as queer can be! King James I of England and VI of Scotland was widely rumoured to be homosexual.


So maybe Polly Findlay’s idea wasn't too far from the mark after all! Maybe we, and our conservative  theatrical forefathers, have completely missed latent homosexuality as we have utterly wrongly assumed that Shakespeare was a prude. Any students of Shakespeare past GCSE level know just how bawdy Shakespeare was. Look at Hotspur in Henry IV and even Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet who thinks that if Romeo could just get his end away he’d get over Rosalind straight away… and he was right of course! The problem is we’ve allowed the Bowdlerisation(footnote) of Shakespeare to enter public consciousness. Shakespeare, like Chaucer hundreds of years beforehand, was filthy! He loved a cheap laugh. So maybe Antonio and Bassiano were meant to be camp stereotypes so that the audience could laugh at the witless Portia being cuckolded by the man who made her marriage possible … I’ll leave that up to you to decide.

The anti-semitic elements are not as prominent as in The Jew of Malta which I saw a few weeks beforehand and that I studied during my MA. I confess that I've not read The Merchant of Venice so I do not know if Findlay cut a lot of the anti-Semitic language. The beginning scenes contain the most anti-semitism with Shylock even being spat in the face. Jessica, Shylock’s daughter, is called an ‘infidel’ by her husband’s friends upon meeting them, but really the instances are few and far between in the play, however The Jew was full of references from beginning to end. Polly Findlay’s focus is not on Shylock and Jessica’s strained relationship, rather the audience’s attention is firmly on Portia and Bassiano’s relationship.  This makes a real contrast from The Jew of Malta where it's on Barabas and his daughter Abigail.

Further surprises came in the style of the play. There were some very Brechtian elements such as the actors waiting just off stage to feature, and even a tableau where the costume change was done on stage as Portia and Nerissa adopted their male alter-egos. The costumes were modern dress but had an Elizabethan air about them, for example, long to mid-length full coats being worn by several of the male characters, but in very bright and even neon colours.

The set was also unusual. It felt like we were inside a giant Newton’s cradle; gently nodding to the typical ‘80s American Wall Street production.

Makram J. Khoury was a brilliant Shylock, with plenty of gravitas. Tim Samuels as Launcelot Gobbo, the fool, was hilarious and surprising! Nerissa was played by the disabled actress Nadia Albina, whose right arm finishes at the elbow. She kept her arm visible at all times not attempting to hide or disguise it at all. Something I admire deeply after she received negative reviews for being cast as Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire last year
(http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/jun/02/disabled-actor-plays-blanche-dubois-streetcar-named-desire). Although she had one of the smallest parts in the play, she was active, engaging and captivating.

My final thought is that this was a truly innovative, breath of fresh air that really encapsulates the RSC’s objective to keep Shakespeare alive by making it relevant for us today.

Saturday, 25 July 2015

Review of  Far from the Madding Crowd (2015) starring Carey Mulligan and Michael Sheen

Gordon Bennett, that was good! I love a good period drama over and above any other type of adaptation. I love the romance, the sensation, the costumes, the nods to history (which are sometimes somewhat tongue in cheek!) and, of course, the dashing hero or handsome, but villainous cad who puts the reputation and morality of the helpless, and often hopeless, heroine in jeopardy. 

When period dramas are good they can be really good, case in point is Andrew Davies’ 1995 Pride and Prejudice. That's partly because the dramatist already has an amazing springboard to bounce off. The original source novel has been chosen because it tells a fascinating story and with the help of clever scriptwriting and appropriate casting, the nineteenth-century novel can leap into action on our screens bringing some of our most loved fictional characters to life.

Thomas Vinterberg’s adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd is one of these brilliantly executed adaptations. It is at once humorous and full of pathos. He represents some of the key proto-feminist (before the feminist movement of  the ‘60s) issues in the book, such as a desire for independence and the female experience, by showing the places that women are allowed to go and the things that women were allowed to do and as the film explains business was not one of those arenas. 

As an adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s book, it's very good. Vinterberg has taken a bit of an Andrew Davies approach, i.e., sexing up the novel’s central characters by choosing rugged handsome actors (Matthias Schoenaerts) who smoulder and brood over their secret, unrequited love. It was a narrow escape that Schoenaerts doesn't get the full on Mr Darcy Colin Firth wet shirt moment!

The chemistry between Bathsheba Everdene and impoverished farmer Gabriel Oak is sweetly and tactly navigated in this adaptation. As is Bathsheba’s tense relationship with the wealthy, aristocratic and obsessed William Boldwood (Michael Sheen). Vinterberg has not completely abandoned the issue of class division between Bathsheba and Gabriel Oak, but it has been downplayed. This may be because Vinterberg felt that it was no longer relevant to us as we apparently now live in a classless society? I certainly feel that it is still a relevant topic to us today and even if it weren't, it would still be understandable as it’s in living memory. In the novel, Bathsheba was also revolutionary for the period because of her rejection of Gabriel Oak’s proposal as she valued her independence too much to marry. We’ll always love a social maverick so maybe this theme could  have been more evident too.

Ultimately this is a great film. As an adaptation it’s not perhaps the strictest but that's the joy of an adaptation. It doesn't have to be faithful to the original. Adaptation is a space for experimentation (look at the successes of teen films 10 Things I Hate About You and Clueless) and Vinterberg has experimented with the key themes and central characters of Far from the Madding Crowd but it has worked really well because of the strong cast and brilliant filming. I'll definitely be watching it again!  Do check it out when you have the chance! 

Saturday, 18 July 2015

Review of the RSC's The Jew of Malta 

This is Justin Audibert’s directorial debut at the RSC and boy it’s good! Christopher Marlowe’s dark comedic tale of anti-semitism has not been reinvented nor transplanted to the modern day; it has just been directed and acted really, really well. It's a feisty, energetic couple of hours full of twisted delight!

This is a fascinating and fantastic production of Marlowe’s The Jew of Malta and I hope it indicates that there will be more Marlowe productions to come at the RSC, especially if they're all as dazzling as this one. Marlowe has long been overlooked in favour of Shakespeare but this play proves that we may have had misplaced favourites for a long time.

Nothing has been done in an innovative, shocking way but because Audibert’s take was evidently just to do it well, the play leaps off the stage. The already present humour in Marlowe’s writing shines through illuminating the anti-semitism and anti-Islam messages therein. And by ridiculing the Christian priests who also feature, Audibert shows that all religions have their flawed advocates and that none is superior to the other. A real equalizer which is a pleasure to watch in action and an approach which I have not witnessed in any of the productions I've seen before.

The Machiavellian elements of Barabas’ approach to life appear particularly keenly but I'm not sure why they stand out so much here. The play’s prologue delivered by Machiavelli is included but nothing unusual can be said of the delivery for me to attribute the prominence of this theme in this production of the play. Maybe it's because no one is left unridiculed for their faults that the play seems so savage and, as such, so Machiavellian? They all seem to get their just desserts in the most repugnant, gruesome, violent and hilarious of ways. Making you feel at once sympathetic for their plight as well as delighted to see them fail one by one. You are also so wrapped up in Barabas’ story that you hope for his success even when he commits the most horrid of deeds.

The set is simple but effective, at all times involving the use of stone effect steps which dominate the back of the stage. They are used to particularly humorous effect as the play reaches its conclusion when the body of a dead priest is propped sitting upright in order to trick another character.  

The use of traditional Jewish music is a very effective framework focusing the audience’s attention on the anti-semitism that dominates the play as well as the sixteenth-century.

Barabas, as played by Jasper Britton, is wicked, dark, clever, and also seductive. You're on his side no matter how much you don't want to be as you see each of his cruel acts unfold. Ithamore, his slave and later companion in mischief, is brilliant. He matches Britton’s energy and excitement tenfold and the pair seem to be stuck in a vicious never ending spiral of revenge and murder. To counter Barabas’ malevolence, there is the sweetness of his daughter Abigail, played by Catrin Stewart. She converts to Christianity after learning of the wickedness of her father. She is ultimately just, fair, good and principled (in her own way) but she is treated as wicked, dirty scum by the other Christian characters in the play revealing the hypocrisy of their religion as well as the shallowness. Love thy neighbour apparently does not extend to the members of other religions.

As a final note, whilst no new ground is trod here, the effect is of a new light being shone on Christopher Marlowe. Let's hope that with the success and popularity of this play new theatregoers will be introduced to the genius of his writing and that some of Shakespeare’s limelight will be re-directed on to poor, nearly forgotten Kit.



Friday, 17 July 2015


After a long break due to extreme business caused by both my thesis, holidays and also the excitement of presenting a paper on an aspect of my thesis in Honolulu at the 2015 NAVSA conference, I bring you my return blog which is my paper for NAVSA convenir toy touching on the theory and history of adaptation as well as mainly looking Henrik Ibsen's influence on the London stage.


Victorians in the World -  Ibsen and the London theatre

Reflections of Ibsen’s Realism on the Victorian Stage

Ibsen got everywhere. He really was in everyone’s hair by the end of the nineteenth-century. He is known today as the father of realism. And this paper analyses the significant impact of realism as a dramatic genre on the Victorian stage as a consequence of his work.  My PhD examines nineteenth-century stage adaptations of three nineteenth-century novels; Jane Eyre, East Lynne and Lady Audley’s Secret. My study of these often ignored stage adaptations has revealed that they provide a wealth of information about how real people, not critics and other authors, responded to some of the most controversial and taboo literary characters. The plays have been ignored because some academics have dismissed them as ephemeral, or considered them as popular theatre and therefore lacking in literary significance. However, the changes that the dramatists made when approaching the transformation of these characters reveal a lot about the issues that affected people at the time and what they liked or disliked about these characters. The adaptations also reveal important cultural changes, and most importantly to this paper the impact of new theatrical styles.
A change in attitudes towards these rejected plays is happening, albeit very slowly. Patsy Stoneman’s, for me revolutionary, book Jane Eyre on Stage: 1848-1898 revealed the potential that these plays provide. And she has opened these adaptations up to the world by publishing them in her kind of anthology providing additional staging and contextual information.

one of the most obvious changes I noticed whilst conducting my research was the dramatic change in style as the century approached its conclusion, or shall we say it's final curtain? I attribute this change in theatrical taste to Ibsen’s enormous popularity.

In this paper I will demonstrate how the fashion for Ibsen’s realism changed the meaning of some of the most contentious and sensational characters in nineteenth-century literature. This paper explores not just the impact of Ibsen’s work on the stage adaptations of Jane Eyre, East Lynne and Lady Audley’s Secret but also on other dramatists, like George Bernard Shaw, to the present time. I will first look at Ibsen’s realism as an influence on the stage adaptations examined during my PhD thesis before moving on to an examination of Shaw and twentieth- and twenty-first century playwrights.

On analysis, it is possible to see the effect of Ibsen’s work on the nineteenth-century stage adaptations of all of the novels I studied. The most obvious is  W.G. Wills’ 1882 stage adaptation of Jane Eyre, which I'm devoting a significant chunk of the time here to examining. It has a significantly different dramatic style compared to the other nineteenth-century adaptations of Jane Eyre. It is important to state at this point that all of the novel-to-stage adaptations I examined are clear examples of the theatrical genre of melodrama. But Wills’ play develops the characters rather than having stock villains and heroines and he forefronts Jane’s passage to maturity over the usual comedic business and slapstick that were features of the majority of the earlier adaptations. As such Wills’ Jane does not provoke the audience’s sympathy for her situation as either an orphan nor a woman alone in a prejudiced patriarchal society. The other stage adaptations of Jane Eyre make frequent attempts to garner the audience’s sympathy for Jane, by alternately making her beautiful and pretty, rather than pitiful plain Jane from the original novel, and having other poorer servant characters describing their pity for her. As such Wills’ presents a Jane who is viewed as a very vocal messenger for female rights and human rights on a wider scale but the manner in which this is done implies that it might not be a good thing.This could however be a subversion of the argument. Whatever your opinion on this, it is evident that the play discusses  ‘real life’ social issues.

With Wills’ I also noticed some similarities to Ibsen’s Ghosts, one of Ibsen’s most popular plays. Appearing in 1881, it is another pointed commentary on the skewed morality of society. In it a widow, Helene Alving, reveals that she has kept hidden all of the negative aspects of her marriage, primarily the philandering of her late husband, Captain Alving, to  her pastor. In Wills’ adaptation of Jane Eyre, Jane has the support of the clergyman Mr Prior who is both locum parentis and stand in St John Rivers. She is the least vulnerable of all of the portrayals of Jane, with people constantly offering support and advice, or even their homes. Despite this Jane ignores Mr Prior’s advice to leave Rochester whereas Helene accepted the pastor’s advice to marry Captain Alving in order to reform him.  She confesses her husband’s lifelong vices when she is in the process of dedicating an orphanage to the memory of her late husband. An act she is doing in order to spend all of her late husband’s money so that their son does not inherit anything from him, even money. Here, as with Wills’ Jane, is a clear example of a woman taking control of her own destiny, and also her son’s as she refuses to allow him to inherit anything from his father. The play was shocking because of its very public mention of venereal disease and also it's depiction of how accepted male behaviour was destroying families. So much so that the play achieved only a single private London performance on 13 March 1891 at the Royalty Theatre.

The issue of Lord Chamberlain's Office censorship, because of the subject matter of illegitimate children and sexually transmitted disease, was avoided by the formation of a subscription-only Independent Theatre Society to produce the play. Its members included playwright George Bernard Shaw and authors Thomas Hardy and Henry James.

 The play also touches on incest as Oswald is beginning to fall in love with his mother’s maid, who is his father’s illegitimate daughter. Ghosts makes a strong criticism of male philandering directly in the play given the physical evidence of Captain Alving’s sins in the shape of syphilitic Oswald and in Wills’ Jane Eyre the criticism of male philandering is also very obvious as Jane is warned on frequent occasions to leave Rochester’s home and employ. Mrs Fairfax even tells her after Rochester’s wife’s death that she is in just as much danger even now from Rochester. Jane refuses to listen to all the advice that she is given in the play, even female advice warning her about Rochester:

Jane: Lady Ingram468 – I see your mistake469 – I can explain it 470– I’ve learnt from Mrs Fairfax’s own lips 471– there is a poor patient 472– a half sister473 –
Lady Ingram: Mrs Fairfax has been deceived among the rest57.
Jane (surely): You have made a monstrous charge474. What’s your evidence475?
Blanche: Give me that letter, Mama136.
Blanche: This patient, as you call it, has a brother 137– the news reached him of my engagement and he considerately wrote to me to tell me of the state of the case138. Should you like to read it139?
Lady Ingram: The first few lines will explain all58. (Jane snatches letter and staggers toward window.) Most suspicious agitation59.
Blanche: Why should we concern ourselves any farther about her, Mama140?
Mary: Poor thing31! Poor thing32!
Jane (returning): What is this letter476? Who is this Mr Mason477! I’d sooner believe a word from Mr Rochester’s lips than the cry of a whole slanderous world478. I don’t believe479 – (tears letter in two) some lying enemy480.


Here Jane is not just dismissing the female sisterhood but she is also rebelling against the social hierarchy by refusing to submit to the will of Lady Ingram and Blanche; her social superiors. Wills’ Jane is a very strong independent woman shaping her own destiny. She tears the evidence up and does exactly what she wants after confronting Rochester personally. Wills’ has taken Bronte’s original rebellious Jane and pushed her to an extreme. Despite the sensation of the very dramatic Jane, the play remains firmly realistic because of the change in dramatic style and because of the reasoning process that Jane goes through as she makes up her mind to leave Rochester. Gone are the earlier scenes of comic business, slapstick and fight scenes against vicious moustachioed villains. The focus is purely on Jane’s Bildungsroman reimagined on the stage.

The path to find one’s own destiny is a key theme in Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler, published in 1890. Hedda, the lead character is considered to be one of greatest dramatic roles of the nineteenth-century. The play is sometimes considered an analysis of mental illness and we now know that Ibsen was interested in the then-embryonic science of mental illness. Coincidentally Sigmund Freud’s first work on psychoanalysis appeared roughly a decade later. The critic Bernard Paris interprets Gabler's actions as stemming from her "need for freedom [which is] as compensatory as her craving for power... her desire to shape a man's destiny” ( Paris 1997: 59). Examples of mentally ill nineteenth-century women included what we now see as oppressed, but mentally normal, wilful characters, such as Lady Audley or Jane Eyre; women reacting to abuse, sexual or otherwise or sexually expressive women like Jane Eyre’s Bertha Mason and East Lynne’s Lady Isabel Vane, as well as those with brain disease. Ibsen poured all of the permeating images of female madness into this one character. Most obvious is Hedda’s desire for freedom and it is interesting that Hedda's married name is Hedda Tesman and Gabler her maiden name. On the subject of the title, Ibsen wrote: "My intention in giving it this name was to indicate that Hedda as a personality is to be regarded rather as her father's daughter than her husband's wife” (Sanders 2006). So whilst Ibsen denied making a conscious alignment with women’s rights when writing A Doll’s House during his speech for the Norwegian Association for Women’s Rights in 1898, at this point he seemed happy to support a woman’s decision to find her own identity and not to be defined by that of her husband’s.

Evidently Ibsen’s work had a far reaching impact on Victorian drama, influencing productions appearing in even minor theatres. All of the adaptations I examine were produced in a minor theatre, i.e., those theatre houses, which lay on the fringes of civilised society and were largely on the wrong side of the River Thames. That even they were influenced by Ibsen is remarkable. These were theatres where polite society would not, on the whole, be caught dead and yet it is precisely because they existed outside respectable, high class society that they were able to find influence in Ibsen’s work. The very territory of melodrama opens up a space for experimentation because they require high drama, suspense, emotion, villains, heroines and slapstick. This is why so many of the melodramas performed in the nineteenth-century were adaptations. The dramatists and theatre managers were able to grab hold of an already popular novel especially those already containing some of those aforementioned elements, knowing that interested parties, lovers, or even despisers, of the book would come to see it. The dramatists then ran with it. The goal of getting as many bums on seats over the run as possible. And nothing was off limits as they “adapted” the novel. They experimented with characters, structure and plot to varying degrees. Sometimes the final adaptation was nothing like the original source. And sometimes the adaptation was so popular that the changes which were made became intrinsically linked with the original source forever more. Such as T. A. Palmer’s 1874 East Lynne where the invented line of ‘Dead… and never called me mother!’ comes from. This is a  heart wrenching phrase which never actually  appears in the original.

In respect of Jane Eyre, which had attracted so much interest on its publication due to its controversial rebellious heroine, this probably explains why the book is now a cultural phenomenon. The Lord Chamberlain’s Archives at the British Museum reveal that eight adaptations were registered between 1848-1898. We will never know how many illegal productions appeared as they were never submitted to the Lord Chamberlain. As the book already contained so many melodramatic elements because of its link to Gothic and sensational literature, it was ripe for transformation to the stage. And transform it, they did. The first adaptation to appear in 1848 by John Courtney creates not just an entirely different plot but also invents several new characters, i.e., the amusingly named Betty Bunce and Sally Suds. Courtney’s theatre, The Royal Victoria Theatre, London was in a poorer area where many of the local inhabitants were employed as servants as the census shows so of course these invented characters were servants too. Given that these dramatists felt comfortable enough to create entirely new characters who compete heavily with Jane for the audience’s attention, it is no wonder that Ibsen influence can be seen on the minor theatres towards the end of the century because of his popularity.

It would have been yet another way to appeal to the audience who were growing tired of seeing the same silly slapstick, comedic business and two dimensional characters. Whilst Ibsen’s realism had an impact on the style of the shows appearing at the theatres, there was a limit to his influence. The plays being performed by the end of the century should not technically be categorised as melodrama as the style had changed so much, but some melodramatic elements refused to be shaken off like long pathos filled soliloquies. Melodrama is defined by its focus on sensation, emotion and providing entertainment. Realism is concerned with reflecting real life and depicting real social conflicts, it has to be believable. Maybe this limit in Ibsen’s influence was because the poor Victorian audiences were desperate for relief and entertainment as an escape from the already grim reality of their day-to-day lives? The harsh reality of the full Ibsen style may have been just too much frustration, depression and sadness for them to cope with on top of their own emotional baggage.

 It is also possible to see Ibsen’s desire to reflect ‘real life’ and social issues as an influence on the Victorian stage adaptations of East Lynne and Lady Audley’s Secret. John Dicks’ 1879 stage adaptation of East Lynne focuses more on the feelings of the middle-class Barbara Hare as she navigates her clandestine love of Archibald Carlyle and her brother Richard’s quest to clear his name of a murder charge than on Lady Isabel’s sensational story. Barbara not only opens the play with a monologue but has more soliloquies and asides than Lady Isabel in this version. And in John Brougham’s adaptation of Lady Audley’s Secret from 1866, Lady Audley is shown being pushed to the edge by a restrictive patriarchal society as she is not given the much needed support she requires as an abandoned wife with a child to feed. And this is the message that he ultimately presents. He also indicates that Lady Audley may well have committed bad acts, but ultimately she was not a bad woman and he lays the blame of Lady Audley’s ‘madness’ firmly at our feet by having Lady Audley accuse everyone gathered around her in the play’s climax for goading her to ‘madness’. You can imagine her not just pointing at the characters gathered around her but at the audience too. For Brougham, crucially it was that Lady Audley tried to escape the restrictions imposed on her by a cruel, patriarchal society that made her ‘mad’ in the eyes of society. Or more succinctly, she was mad because she refused to conform.

Henrik Ibsen is arguably the most important playwright of the last five hundred years. He ranks alongside William Shakespeare in terms of the influence of his work and renown. He was born in 1828 to a wealthy, well-respected merchant family who could trace their roots to all of the local patrician families in Skien, a small port town. Ibsen’s upbringing had an enormous impact on his plays as they largely reflect the concerns of the urban middle to upper-classes in the nineteenth-century. Even the very subject matters of Ibsen’s work marked a change from the theatre that had dominated the stages in the centuries past. Ibsen’s plays, like Bertholt Brecht’s in the century to come,  had a clear social message commenting on the events of the day. For example, one of Ibsen’s most well known plays, A Doll’s House 1879, criticises the accepted marital roles for men and women. It was considered extremely controversial due to the play’s finale where the protagonist Nora leaves her husband and children because she wants to discover herself. Strangely, despite Ibsen confirming that he was inspired by the belief that “a woman cannot be herself in modern society” as it is “an exclusively male society, with laws made by men and with prosecutors and judges who assess feminine conduct from a masculine standpoint” (Meyer 1967: 467), he gave a speech at the Norwegian Association for Women’s Rights in 1898, confessing that he “must disclaim the honour of having consciously worked for the women’s rights movement,” as he wrote “without any conscious thought of making propaganda”. He stated that rather his task was “the description of humanity” (Dukore 1974: 563).

We turn now to look at Ibsen’s influence on other nineteenth-century playwrights as well as twentieth-century playwrights.

Over his career, Ibsen entirely redefined the rules of drama with a notion of realism that was adopted by Anton Chekhov, George Bernard Shaw and Bertholt Brecht, to name just a few and which we can see in the theatre to this very day. One of the greatest changes  is that since Ibsen’s heyday, the challenging of commonly accepted assumptions and speaking directly about ‘unsayable’, taboo issues has been considered one of the factors that makes a play ART rather than merely entertainment.

A discussion of Ibsen’s influence on contemporary dramatists writing in London during the period would not be complete without reference to the greatly respected playwright, George Bernard Shaw. Shaw was greatly affected by Ibsen and some of his most famous plays, Mrs Warren’s Profession, Widowers’ Houses, Arms and the Man, all deal with very delicate social matters. Interest in and praise for Shaw’s work continues today with a production of Shaw’s Man and Superman having just finished its run starring Ralph Fiennes at the National Theatre. Man and Superman is an interesting mix of realism and surrealism with the often waylaid ‘Don Juan in hell’ scene suggesting that it does not have such a firm footing in the realism genre however it has a clear socio-political message regarding the purpose of life; contemplation. There are some other more striking similarities between Shaw and Ibsen particularly when you examine the leading characters’ motivations in Hedda Gabler and Shaw’s Mrs Warren’s Profession.  Hedda is not afraid to do exactly what she wants to get what she wants and Mrs Warren is very much the same. Mrs Warren exploits the patriarchal society’s reliance on prostitutes to her own ends, making a fortune and raising her social position dramatically, although realistically she will always remain on the fringes due to the aspersions that her connection with prostitution has on her moral countenance. The difference between the two writers is that Shaw’s work seems to promote female independence and entrepreneurship suggesting a proto-feminist stance, however we know that Ibsen did not consciously align himself with the feminist cause as he pointed that out at the Women’s Rights Association meeting! You’d think that a place where you had been invited to speak about women’s rights would surely be entirely the wrong place to even hint that you’re not as much of an advocate as people had assumed! So maybe Ibsen was not as forward thinking regarding women’s rights as we assume. So with that in mind if we look again at Hedda Gabler and Ibsen’s comment that he wanted to identify her as her father’s daughter not as her husband’s wife. Is that good? Is that better than being identified as your husband’s wife? Isn't being owned by your father the same as being owned by your husband? Ibsen later presented a woman who truly sets out to define her own identity in A Doll’s House with Nora leaving her husband and children and slamming the door on her past life not knowing what her future holds but knowing that she will shape it by herself. In the case of Hedda Gabler, Ibsen’s seemingly political stance on women’s rights was an accident; however Shaw deliberately aligned himself with politics. Even Shaw’s wife, Charlotte Payne-Townshend, was a lifelong advocate for women’s education. donating £1000 to the London School of Economics for the endowment of a woman’s scholarship.

Ibsen’s impact was far wider reaching than the Victorian stage in London, he was also a massive influence on Bertholt Brecht as we can see from Mother Courage, The Caucasian Chalk Circle and The Threepenny Opera, all of which have serious socio-political messages. In Russia, the father of modern acting Konstantin Stanislavsky used the techniques of realism and naturalism to lay down a new style of acting which was then a key influence on Arthur Miller in America. It is well known that the story for All My Sons was inspired by Ibsen’s The Wild Duck. And then to 1950s Britain, there’s John Osborne with his angry young man in Look Back in Anger. .

In conclusion, Ibsen is still influencing drama today. His plays are still being performed all over the world and in 2006, the centennial of Ibsen’s death, A Doll’s House was the most performed play of the year.  Additionally UNESCO inscribed Ibsen's autographed manuscripts of A Doll's House on the Memory of the World Register in 2001, in recognition of their historical value. Modern emerging playwrights continue to be inspired by Ibsen. One of The RSC’s leading lights Tom Morton-Smith who wrote the box office buster Oppenheimer which premiered this Easter has clearly been influenced by Ibsen as he shows the tension surrounding Robert Oppenheimer in the build up to the invention of the atomic bomb and how he dealt with the after effects of the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience.

In Britain, we’re currently experiencing a George Bernard Shaw revival. My local theatre has put on a number of Shaw plays this year with Mrs Warren’s Profession finishing last week there so maybe we’ll have an Ibsen revival next year, or the year after.

Bibliography

Cunningham, Lawrence S.; Reich, John J. (2009). Culture & Values, Volume II: A Survey of the Humanities with Readings. Cengage Learning. p. 492.

Dukore, Bernard F., ed. 1974. Dramatic Theory and Criticism: Greeks to Grotowski. Florence, KY: Heinle & Heinle.

Meyer, Michael. 1967. Ibsen. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1974.
 Paris, Bernard. Imagined Human Beings: A Psychological Approach to Character and Conflict in Literature, New York University Press: New York City, 1997, p. 59.

Sanders, Tracy (2006). "Lecture Notes: Hedda Gabler — Fiend or Heroine". Australian Catholic University. Retrieved 2008-10-05.

Showalter, Elaine, ‘Feminine Heroines’ in Bloom, Harold, The Victorian Novel (New York: Chelsea House, 2004).


Saturday, 23 May 2015

Man and Superman
George Bernard Shaw
National Theatre (Lyttelton)
17 February 2015 to 17 May 2015
Review by Amy Holley
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Shaw’s famous social manifestos are left intact in Simon Godwin’s exhilarating, thought provoking production of Man and Superman at the National Theatre, despite the modernisation from its original end of the century setting.

It’s Simon Godwin’s directorial debut for The National and he has started masterfully. In his interview with Emma Freud as part of the NT Live programme, he reveals that he was originally unsure about adapting the play to a modern setting because he was worried how the audience would respond to it. This, he says, is because the majority of George Bernard Shaw’s productions are kept in the Edwardian period. On the whole, the contemporary setting does work well with the action and philosophical debates featured in the play highlighting the universal themes. However, Godwin has the actors using mobile phones, texting, etc. as crucial elements in the play’s action and despite the modern setting the use of mobile phones did stick out like a sore thumb, but this must be because Shaw’s work is intrinsic with the Edwardian and Victorian eras.
It is Ralph Fiennes’ second appearance in the role and it was he who approached the National Theatre with the idea of staging another production of this epically long philosophical social comedy (his first production was in 1996).

Ralph Fiennes captures the energy and humour of Shaw’s irritatingly intelligent Jack Tanner and his love hate relationship with his much unwanted guardian and love interest Ann Whitefield (passionately portrayed by Indira Varma). Ann and Jack’s relationship is redolent of the comedic battle of wits that occurs in Much Ado about Nothing between Beatrice and Benedict, and as in Much Ado love eventually prevails and Jack Tanner, the anarchist, is won over by a woman, and by love.

The play depicts the human quest for love. Godwin states that it’s really about how Jack negotiates opening up to love despite his protestations that it gets in the way of the real purpose of life; contemplation. Shaw navigates the portrayal and discussion of in depth philosophical and social issues, including an examination of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory, by employing comedy which maintains the audience’s interest and Simon Godwin’s production is definitely played for laughs.

Mendoza (also The Devil), played by Tim McMullan, is insanely funny swaggering across the stage dressed up like Russell Brand out on the pull and Jack’s chauffeur, Straker (Elliot Barnes-Worrell) combines a modern East End dialect with Shaw’s scripted scrutiny of the class system with hilarious effects.

The set is simple but highly effective, centring on a moving inner set that spins around on a central pivot. The use of video support is spot on here acting as a framework to break down the fourth wall for the audience as well as adding visual variety.


This production is another example of Ralph Fiennes’ enormous talent as an actor and will surely mark the beginning of an exciting directorial career for Simon Godwin at the National. They were brave to include the often omitted Don Juan in Hell scene but it paid off in dividends greatly enriching the play’s social missives.