Galsworthy

BY PROF. C. S. BAGI

(Lingraj College, Belgaum)

For his dramas Galsworthy never goes far to seek the material. Modern life is a thing of perennial interest to him. Its pathos and comedy are not deficient in anything that makes for stage success. A rough classification of Galsworthy’s plays would reveal to us his preferences in the choice of the dramatic material. The theme of ‘Justice’ and ‘The Silver Box’ is the inadequacy of the modern legal system to meet the needs of Justice. ‘The Eldest Son’ and ‘The Skin Game’ deal with class hatred. The problem of marriage–a fruitful theme on which anybody can say anything–is dramatised in ‘The Fugitive,’ ‘A Bit O’Love’ and ‘The Eldest Son.’ ‘Joy’ too deals with the same theme, though here it is on the clash of individual temperaments that interest is principally focussed. Galsworthy’s contribution to the literature of the modern economic world is found in ‘Strife,’ ‘Old English,’ ‘The Forest’ and ‘The Skin Game.’

This classification is only suggestive and not exhaustive.

The world pictured to us in Galsworthy’s dramas is a narrow world. Conscious of the limitations of his experience, Galsworthy very rarely strays into unfamiliar subject-matter. The characters and scenes of his plays are generally typically English. And where foreigners are introduced the purpose is seldom more serious than to tickle English ears with outlandish accent. Problems of morbid psychology have found little favour with Galsworthy. Not for him are cases of sadism, masochism, dementia praecox and split personality. But the thing which the student of Galsworthy is somewhat baffled to account for is Galsworthy’s general indifference to past history. One can only wonder now whether it was personal prejudice, artistic scruples or something else that kept him from exploiting this vast and interesting subject.

Gloom predominates in Galsworthy’s world. He seems to have no patience to be gay or sportive. He writes with a wounded heart about the spectacle of human misery he sees around. The rich middle class (the ruling class of the 19th century) is in the final stage of dissolution. Disrupting forces are at work on innumerable families of established repute. Democracy (on which the politicians of yesterday had built so much hope) has done no miracle. It has encouraged mob-rule. Stephen More in ‘The Mob’ expresses a growing opinion of today when he says, "You–Mob–are the most contemptible thing under the sun. When you walk the street, God goes in." Surely it would be vain to look for a silver lining in this sombre world.

The gloom becomes still more conspicuous when we remember that Galsworthy has but little to offer us in the nature of a fantasy or romance. The reader cannot help wishing at times that Galsworthy had given us a few more things like ‘The Little Dream’ and ‘Punch And Go.’ And it is no idle wish too. Realistic art is perfectly right so long as the reality it depicts comports with the demands of Beauty and Pleasure. But to practise realism in an ugly and unpleasant world is bound to pall sooner or later. What we demand of a writer of today is occasional holidaying into romance. And that is what Galsworthy is all but determined not to do. His characters are all men and women of average intelligence and ability, incapable of rising above circumstance. Too often (as in ‘The Silver Box’) a worthless rogue earns all our pity, though on second thoughts we begin to wonder why we had that sentiment for the fellow at all. Even the potentially romantic situation in ‘Joy’ turns in Galsworthy’s hands into an occasion for selfish rancour.

In the structure of his plays, Galsworthy harks to the classical ideal. And this is a welcome sign in an age when formlessness and lack of design are the major heresies of the leading writers. As in Greek tragedies, there is generally no flagrant breach of the unities in Gals worthy’s plays. There is also no sudden alternation of the gayand the grave. A sinister Fate seems to hover over the characters and victimises them to the caprice of Social Custom.

The dialogues of Galsworthy are models of brevity and restraint. Words which are not related to action and character are ruthlessly omitted. Galsworthy’s genius is unsurpassed in suggesting a complex situation in a casual talk of a few words. Jack Barthwick’s opening speech in the opening scene of ‘The Silver Box’ is a case in point. It opens out a mental vista of the modern metropolitan life in its full swing. Labour men are rushing into Parliament and causing alarm to the Liberals. The Press is eagerly looking about for scandals of the vested interests. The curse of unemployment is forcing the tide of opinion against the ruling powers. Jack’s wild life at Oxford and his free behaviour with his parents are an impressive symptom of the campaign the youths have launched against Authority. The unknown lady, who quietly allows her reticule to be stolen overnight and threatens to sue Jack Barthwick next morning, is also phenomenon which adds to the truthfulness of the scene. There is hardly a feature of the civil life of London which is left out. In fact, Jack Barthwick’s speech gives us a comprehensive picture such as might have tempted a lesser writer to be undramatically long-winded.

Particularly noteworthy is Galsworthy’s use of significant silences in the plays. Whenever a situation is extremely touching, the playwright keeps the stage silent for a few seconds and leaves the events to speak for themselves. Consider, for instance, the scene where David Roberts (‘Strife’) takes leave of his wife just before her death, and also the scene where Jones’ children (‘The Silver Box’) stand crying outside Barthwick’s house. The scenes are too pathetic to be made articulate in words. In either case Galsworthy leaves the stage silent for a few seconds before resuming the dialogue.

In conclusion, it must be observed that Galsworthy’s social sense never gets into the way of his artistic sense. He has no theory of social philosophy to teach. He neither advocates nor advertises a cause. He blames none: whether rich or poor, friends or enemies of social convention. All men, according to him, are victims of forces as ruthless as Fates. Law in ‘Justice’; selfish obstinacies of the economic world in ‘The Skin Game’; idealisation of the motherly feeling at the cost of the more powerful impulse of sex in ‘Joy’: these among others are the powers against which man contends in vain. And so long as we are ruled by them it is useless to blame this or that man, this or that community. What a sane person is expected to do under the circumstances is to avoid conflict by understanding the other man’s point of view. The spirit of accommodation and sympathy are the indispensable necessities of life without which man cannot make much headway in private or public affairs. A family or community can preserve its strength only if the members are mutually agreed. And social peace and happiness are the result of the love each man bears to his neighbours.