Death of Chatterton

I have now carried Schiller’s On the Naive and Sentimental in Literature around for two weeks now, thinking that no doubt soon I would finish it–say, if my subway car was stuck somewhere overnight. That did not happen, I did not delve much further into his distinction between naive and sentimental poets, and now it is due back at the library. And that is that.

Death of Chatterton, Henry Wallis, 1856

Brian Bedford’s The Importance of Being Earnest at the Roundabout

Another day, another drenching of wet snow to struggle through, adding the misery of a full body contact subway commute with people whose horrible taste in music pounds through their earbuds. Anyhow, as I intended to write, last night I went to see one of my favorite plays of all time, the one I write my university thesis on, have seen on stage four times, and viewed every movie version of, The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde directed by Brian Bedford.

It de-ceded expectations. Perhaps because I was bringing so much to it, I lost a naive enjoyment of it. Surely a joke is bound to lose some of its funniness when I already know the punch line. Yet I also think I have some distinct opinions about how to deliver the mannered and difficult lines (with preferably less camp) and really about how to do the whole play.

Two perfect things: the set and Brian Bedford (also the director) in his role as Lady Bracknell. He was perfect, and every line of his was a joy to hear. The campy Algernon, and over-modulated voices of the Gwendolyn and Cecily, and character roles the servants took on, and the histronics of Miss Prism–somehow none of them hit the right note of artificiality. They were all too excitable about it, not nearly languid enough. Dr. Chausable and Jack were actually rather good. They ham up the obvious theatrically of the piece rather than treating it with the upmost seriousness.

While it didn’t live up to my expectations, Wilde’s brilliance is unsquashable and it is a serviceable rendition. True to Wilde, “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily.” The New York Times reports this morning that the critically acclaimed show’s run is being extended.

Apropos my discussion yesterday against the glorification of Nature in Schiller, this quote of Wilde’s seemed deliciously suited:

“I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone.” – Lady Bracknell, Act 1

Against Nature

Dream of Arcadia (1838), Thomas Cole 
  1. Schiller: The ancient Greeks, by living close to Nature, were naive geniuses who lived better lives than we do and created better works of art because of their ability to maintain a natural state of honesty, simplicity, and virtue that innately worked within the forms of nature.
  2. Schiller: Modern society has advanced beyond Nature, and in becoming disillusioned with the society he entered when he left childhood, longs to return to the childlike, naive, and natural state that is so much better than civilization. 
  3. Me: Ancient Greeks painted their pristine temples all sorts of gaudy, rather Victorian colors, a illustrative difference between the traditional ideal of the pure Greeks and the reality, which I imagine was both more colorful and Hobbesian (nasty, brutish, and short). 
Landscape with Aeneas at Delos (1672), Claude Lorraine

We have the luxury of admiring the natural now that we are not forced to survive in it, just as Schiller has the luxury of idealizing it in this essay. Did the ancient Greeks idealize a nomadic, hunting and gathering past as more virtuous? Is the whole history of civilization really one of degeneration? I don’t think so. This is only the beginning of Schiller’s On the Naive and Sentimental in Literature, that I started reading after this discussion, and his basis for the two types of poets, so I’d have to say so far I’m not buying it.

Et in Arcadia Ego (1637), Nicolas Poussin