Analysis of All Plays

December 4, 2017 | Author: Nikos Evge | Category: Theatre, Entertainment (General)
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Samuel Beckett “Waiting For Godot” Samuel Beckett was born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1906, the second son of comfortable middle-class parents who were a part of the Protestant minority in a predominantly Catholic society. He was provided with an excellent education, graduating from Trinity College, Dublin, with a major emphasis in French and Italian. His first job was as a teacher of English in the Ecole Normale Superiéure in Paris. In 1931, he returned to Ireland as a lecturer in French literature, and he received his masters degree in French from Dublin and subsequently returned to Paris as a teacher in 1932. He has made Paris his home since that time, except for visits abroad and a retreat to the Unoccupied Zone in Vichy, France, during 1942–44. Beckett found teaching uncongenial to his creative activities and soon turned all of his attention to writing. During the 1930s and 1940s, his writing consisted of critical studies (Proust and others), poems, and two novels (Murphy andWatt), all written in English. In the late 1940s, he changed from writing in English to writing in French. Part of the reason for this was his basic rejection of Ireland as his homeland. When asked why he found Ireland uncongenial, he offered the same explanation that has been given by other famous Irish expatriates, such as Sean O'Casey and James Joyce. He could not tolerate the strict censorship of so many aspects of life, especially the arbitrary censoring of many works of literature by the Catholic clergy. In addition, the political situation created an oppressive anti-intellectualism. Even after he became famous, he refused to allow some of his plays to be presented in Ireland. In 1958, during the International Theater Festival in Dublin, a play of his compatriot O'Casey was banned, and Beckett, in protest, withdrew his plays, which have not been seen in Ireland since then. Since the major portion of his dramas were composed in French and first presented in Paris, many critics find difficulty in classifying Beckett's works: should he be considered a French or an Irish writer? The nature of' his characters, even when named Vladimir and Estragon, seems to be more characteristically Irish than any other nationality. Essentially, it should be a moot question because Beckett, when composing in French, was his own translator into English and vice versa. Thus his works do not suffer from another translator's tampering with them, and his great plays now belong to the realm of world literature. About Waiting for Godot Waiting for Godot qualifies as one of Samuel Beckett's most famous works. Originally written in French in 1948, Beckett personally translated the play into English. The world premiere was held on January 5, 1953, in the Left Bank Theater of Babylon in Paris. The play's reputation spread slowly through word of mouth and it soon became quite famous. Other productions around the world rapidly followed. The play initially failed in the United States, likely as a result of being misbilled as "the laugh of four continents." A subsequent production in New York City was more carefully advertised and garnered some success. Waiting for Godot incorporates many of the themes and ideas that Beckett had previously discussed in his other writings. The use of the play format allowed Beckett to dramatize his ideas more forcefully than before, and is one of the reasons that the play is so intense.

2 Beckett often focused on the idea of "the suffering of being." Most of the play deals with the fact that Estragon and Vladimirare waiting for something to alleviate their boredom. Godot can be understood as one of the many things in life that people wait for. The play has often been viewed as fundamentally existentialist in its take on life. The fact that none of the characters retain a clear mental history means that they are constantly struggling to prove their existence. Thus the boy who consistently fails to remember either of the two protagonists casts doubt on their very existence. This is why Vladimir demands to know that the boy will in fact remember them the next day. Waiting for Godot is part of the Theater of the Absurd. This implies that it is meant to be irrational. Absurd theater does away with the concepts of drama, chronological plot, logical language, themes, and recognizable settings. There is also a split between the intellect and the body within the work. Thus Vladimir represents the intellect and Estragon the body, both of whom cannot exist without the other.

Character List Estragon Estragon is one of the two protagonists. He is a bum and sleeps in a ditch where he is beaten each night. He has no memory beyond what is immediately said to him, and relies on Vladimir to remember for him. Estragon is impatient and constantly wants to leave Vladimir, but is restrained from leaving by the fact that he needs Vladimir. It is Estragon's idea for the bums to pass their time by hanging themselves. Estragon has been compared to a body without an intellect, which therefore needs Vladimir to provide the intellect. Vladimir Vladimir is one of the two protagonists. He is a bum like Estragon, but retains a memory of most events. However, he is often unsure whether his memory is playing tricks on him. Vladimir is friends with Estragon because Estragon provides him with the chance to remember past events. Vladimir is the one who makes Estragon wait with him for Mr. Godot's imminent arrival throughout the play. Vladimir has been compared to the intellect which provides for the body, represented by Estragon. Lucky Lucky is the slave of Pozzo. He is tied to Pozzo via a rope around his neck and he carries Pozzo's bags. Lucky is only allowed to speak twice during the entire play, but his long monologue is filled with incomplete ideas. He is silenced only by the other characters who fight with him to take of his hat. Lucky appears as a mute in the second act. Pozzo Pozzo is the master who rules over Lucky. He stops and talks to the two bums in order to have some company. In the second act Pozzo is blind and requires their help. He, like Estragon, cannot remember people he has met. His transformation between the acts may represent the passage of time. a boy The boy is a servant of Mr. Godot. He plays an identical role in both acts by coming to inform Vladimir and Estragon the Mr. Godot will not be able to make it that night, but will surely come the next day. The boy never remembers having met Vladimir and Estragon before. He has a brother who is mentioned but who never appears.

Summary of Act I The setting is in the evening on a country road with a single tree present. Estragon is trying to pull off his boot, but without success. Vladimir enters and greets Estragon, who informs him that he has spent the night in a ditch where he was beaten. With supreme effort Estragon succeeds in pulling off his boot. He then looks inside it to see if there is anything there while Vladimir does the same with his hat.

3 Vladimir mentions the two thieves who were crucified next to Christ. He asks Estragon if he knows the Gospels. Estragon gives a short description of the maps of the Holy Land at which point Vladimir tells him he should have been a poet. Estragon points to his tattered clothes and says he was. Vladimir continues with his narrative about the two thieves in order to pass the time. Estragon wants to leave but Vladimir forces him to stay because they are both waiting for Godot to arrive. Neither of the two bums knows when Godot will appear, or even if they are at the right place. Later it is revealed that they do not even know what they originally asked Godot for. Estragon gets bored of waiting and suggests that they pass the time by hanging themselves from the tree. They both like the idea but cannot decide who should go first. They are afraid that if one of them dies the other might be left alone. In the end they decide it is safer to wait until Godot arrives. Estragon asks Vladimir whether they still have rights. Vladimir indicates that they got rid of them. He then fears that he hears something, but it turns out to be imaginary noises. Vladimir soon gives Estragon a carrot to eat. Pozzo and Lucky arrive. Lucky has a rope tied around his neck and is carrying a stool, a basket, a bag and a greatcoat. Pozzo carries a whip which he uses to control Lucky. Estragon immediately confuses Pozzo with Godot which gets Pozzo upset. Pozzo spends several minutes ordering Lucky around. Lucky is completely silent and obeys like a machine. Pozzo has Lucky put down the stool and open the basket of food which contains chicken. Pozzo then eats the chicken and throws away the bones. Lucky stands in a stooped posture holding the bags after each command has been completed and appears to be falling asleep. Estragon and Vladimir go to inspect Lucky who intrigues them. They ask why he never puts his bags down. Pozzo will not tell them, so Estragon proceeds to ask if he can have the chicken bones that Pozzo has been throwing away. Pozzo tells him that they technically belong to Lucky. When they ask Lucky if he wants them, he does not reply, so Estragon is given the bones. Pozzo eventually tells them why Lucky hold the bags the entire time. He thinks it is because Lucky is afraid of being given away. While Pozzo tells them why Lucky continues to carry his bags, Lucky starts to weep. Estragon goes to wipe away the tears but receives a terrible kick in the shin. Pozzo then tells them that he and Lucky have been together nearly sixty years. Vladimir is appalled at the treatment of Lucky who appears to be such a faithful servant. Pozzo explains that he cannot bear it any longer because Lucky is such a burden. Later Vladimir yells at Lucky that it is appalling the way he treats such a good master. Pozzo then gives an oratory about the night sky. He asks them how it was and they tell him it was quite a good speech. Pozzo is ecstatic at the encouragement and offers to do something for them. Estragon immediately asks for ten francs but Vladimir tells him to be silent. Pozzo offers to have Lucky dance and then think for them. Lucky dances for them and when asked for an encore repeats the entire dance step for step. Estragon is unimpressed but almost falls trying to imitate it. They then make Lucky think. What follows is an outpouring of religious and political doctrine which always starts ideas but never brings them to completion. The three men finally wrestle Lucky to the ground and yank off his hat at which point he stops speaking. His last word is, "unfinished." The men then spend some effort trying to get Lucky to wake up again. He finally reawakens when the bags are placed in his hand. Pozzo gets up to leave and he and Lucky depart the scene. Vladimir and Estragon return to their seats and continue waiting for Godot.

4 A young boy arrives having been sent by Mr. Godot. Estragon is outraged that it took him so long to arrive and scares him. Vladimir cut him off and asks the boy if he remembers him. The boy says this is his first time coming to meet them and that Mr. Godot will not be able to come today but perhaps tomorrow. The boy is sent away with the instructions to tell Mr. Godot that he has seen them. Both Estragon and Vladimir discuss past events and then decide to depart for the night. Neither of them moves from his seat.

Summary of Act II The setting is the next day at the same time. Estragon's boots and Lucky's hat are still on the stage. Vladimir enters and starts to sing until Estragon shows up barefoot. Estragon is upset that Vladimir was singing and happy even though he was not there. Both admit that they feel better when alone but convince themselves they are happy when together. They are still waiting for Godot.

Estragon and Vladimir poetically talk about "all the dead voices" they hear. They are haunted by voices in the sounds of nature, especially of the leaves rustling. Vladimir shouts at Estragon to help him not hear the voices anymore. Estragon tries and finally decides that they should ask each other questions. They manage to talk for a short while. Estragon has forgotten everything that took place the day before. He has forgotten all about Pozzo and Lucky as well as the fact that he wanted to hang himself from the tree. He cannot remember his boots and thinks they must be someone else's. For some reason they fit him now when he tries them on. The tree has sprouted leaves since the night before and Estragon comments that it must be spring. But when Vladimir looks at Estragon's shin, it is still pussy and bleeding from where Lucky kicked him. Soon they are done talking and try to find another topic for discussion. Vladimir finds Lucky's hat and tries it on. He and Estragon spend a while trading hats until Vladimir throws his own hat on the ground and asks how he looks. They then decide to play at being Pozzo and Lucky, but to no avail. Estragon leaves only to immediately return panting. He says that they are coming. Vladimir thinks that it must be Godot who is coming to save them. He then becomes afraid and tries to hide Estragon behind the tree, which is too small to hide him. The conversation then degenerates into abusive phrases. Estragon says, "That's the idea, let's abuse each other." They continue to hurl insults at one another until Estragon calls Vladimir a critic. They embrace and continue waiting. Pozzo and Lucky enter but this time Pozzo is blind and Lucky is mute. Lucky stops when he sees the two men. Pozzo crashes into him and they both fall helplessly in a heap on the ground. Vladimir is overjoyed that reinforcements have arrived to help with the waiting. Estragon again thinks that Godot has arrived. Vladimir and Estragon discuss the merits of helping Pozzo get off the ground where he has fallen. When Vladimir asks how many other men spend their time in waiting, Estragon replies that it is billions. Pozzo in desperation offers to pay for help by offering a hundred francs. Estragon says that it is not enough. Vladimir does not want to pick up Pozzo because then he and Estragon would be alone again. Finally he goes over and tries to pick him up but is unable to. Estragon decides to leave but decides to stay when Vladimir convinces him to help first and then leave. While trying to help Pozzo, both Vladimir and Estragon fall and cannot get up. When Pozzo talks again Vladimir kicks him violently to make him shut up. Vladimir and Estragon finally get up, and Pozzo resumes calling for help. They go and help him up. Pozzo asks who they are and what time it is. They cannot answer his questions.

5 Estragon goes to wake up Lucky. He kicks him and starts hurling abuses until he again hurts his foot. Estragon sits back down and tries to take off his boot. Vladimir tells Pozzo his friend is hurt. Vladimir then asks Pozzo to make Lucky dance or think for them again. Pozzo tells him that Lucky is mute. When Vladimir asks since when, Pozzo gets into a rage. He tells them to stop harassing him with their time questions since he has no notion of it. He then helps Lucky up and they leave. Vladimir reflects upon the fact that there is no truth and that by tomorrow he will know nothing of what has just passed. There is no way of confirming his memories since Estragon always forgets everything that happens to him. The boy arrives again but does not remember meeting Estragon or Vladimir. He tells them it is his first time coming to meet them. The conversation is identical in that Mr. Godot will once again not be able to come but will be sure to arrive tomorrow. Vladimir demands that the boy be sure to remember that he saw him. Vladimir yells, "You're sure you saw me, you won't come and tell me to-morrow that you never saw me!" The two bums decide to leave but cannot go far since they need to wait for Godot. They look at the tree and contemplate hanging themselves. Estragon takes off his belt but it breaks when they pull on it. His trousers fall down. Vladimir says that they will hang themselves tomorrow unless Godot comes to save them. He tells Estragon to put on his trousers. They decide to leave but again do not move.

Analysis of the Play Although very existentialist in its characterizations, Waiting for Godot is primarily about hope. The play revolves around Vladimir and Estragon and their pitiful wait for hope to arrive. At various times during the play, hope is constructed as a form of salvation, in the personages of Pozzo and Lucky, or even as death. The subject of the play quickly becomes an example of how to pass the time in a situation which offers no hope. Thus the theme of the play is set by the beginning: Estragon: Nothing to be done. Vladimir: I'm beginning to come round to that opinion. Although the phrase is used in connection to Estragon's boots here, it is also later used by Vladimir with respect to his hat. Essentially it describes the hopelessness of their lives. A direct result of this hopelessness is the daily struggle to pass the time. Thus, most of the play is dedicated to devising games which will help them pass the time. This mutual desire also addresses the question of why they stay together. Both Vladimir and Estragon admit to being happier when apart. One of the main reasons that they continue their relationship is that they need one another to pass the time. After Pozzo and Lucky leave for the first time they comment: V: That passed the time. E: It would have passed in any case. And later when Estragon finds his boots again: V: What about trying them. E: I've tried everything. V: No, I mean the boots. E: Would that be a good thing?

6 V: It'd pass the time. I assure you, it'd be an occupation. Since passing the time is their mutual occupation, Estragon struggles to find games to help them accomplish their goal. Thus they engage in insulting one another and in asking each other questions. The difficulty for Beckett of keeping a dialogue running for so long is overcome by making his characters forget everything. Estragon cannot remember anything past what was said immediately prior to his lines. Vladimir, although possessing a better memory, distrusts what he remembers. And since Vladimir cannot rely on Estragon to remind him of things, he too exists in a state of forgetfulness. Another second reason for why they are together arises from the existentialism of their forgetfulness. Since Estragon cannot remember anything, he needs Vladimir to tell him his history. It is as if Vladimir is establishing Estragon's identity by remembering for him. Estragon also serves as a reminder for Vladimir of all the things they have done together. Thus both men serve to remind the other man of his very existence. This is necessary since no one else in the play ever remembers them: Vladimir: We met yesterday. (Silence) Do you not remember? Pozzo: I don't remember having met anyone yesterday. But to-morrow I won't remember having met anyone to-day. So don't count on me to enlighten you. Later on the same thing happens with the boy who claims to have never seen them before. This lack of reassurance about their very existence makes it all the more necessary that they remember each other. Estragon and Vladimir are not only talking to pass the time, but also to avoid the voices that arise out of the silence. Beckett's heroes in other works are also constantly assailed by voices which arise out of the silence, so this is a continuation of a theme the author uses frequently: E: In the meantime let's try and converse calmly, since we're incapable of keeping silent. V: You're right, we're inexhaustible. E: It's so we won't think. V: We have that excuse. E: It's so we won't hear. V: We have our reasons. E: All the dead voices. V: They make a noise like wings. E: Like leaves. V: Like sand. E: Like leaves. Silence. V: They all speak at once. E: Each one to itself. Silence. V: Rather they whisper. E: They rustle. V: They murmur.

7 E: The rustle. Silence. V: What do they say? E: They talk about their lives. V: To have lived is not enough for them. E: They have to talk about it. V: To be dead is not enough for them. E: It is not sufficient. Silence. V: They make a noise like feathers. E: Like leaves. V: Like ashes. E: Like leaves. Long silence. V: Say something! One of the questions which must be answered is why the bums are suffering in the first place. This can only be answered through the concept of original sin. To be born is to be a sinner, and thus man is condemned to suffer. The only way to escape the suffering is to repent or to die. Thus Vladimir recalls the thieves crucified with Christ in the first act: V: One of the thieves was saved. It's a reasonable percentage. (Pause.) Gogo. E: What? V: Suppose we repented. E: Repented what? V: Oh . . . (He reflects.) We wouldn't have to go into the details. E: Our being born? Failing to repent, they sit and wait for Godot to come and save them. In the meantime they contemplate suicide as another way of escaping their hopelessness. Estragon wants them to hang themselves from the tree, but both he and Vladimir find it would be too risky. This apathy, which is a result of their age, leads them to remember a time when Estragon almost succeeded in killing himself: E: Do you remember the day I threw myself into the Rhone? V: We were grape harvesting. E: You fished me out. V: That's all dead and buried. E: My clothes dried in the sun. V: There's no good harking back on that. Come on. Beckett is believed to have said that the name Godot comes from the French "godillot" meaning a military boot. Beckett fought in the war and so spending long periods of time waiting for messages to arrive would have been commonplace for him. The more common

8 interpretation that it might mean "God" is almost certainly wrong. Beckett apparently stated that if he had meant "God," he would have written "God". The concept of the passage of time leads to a general irony. Each minute spent waiting brings death one step closer to the characters and makes the arrival of Godot less likely. The passage of time is evidenced by the tree which has grown leaves, possibly indicating a change of seasons. Pozzo and Lucky are also transformed by time since Pozzo goes blind and Lucky mute. There are numerous interpretation of Waiting for Godot and a few are described here: Religious interpretations posit Vladimir and Estragon as humanity waiting for the elusive return of a savior. An extension of this makes Pozzo into the Pope and Lucky into the faithful. The faithful are then viewed as a cipher of God cut short by human intolerance. The twisted tree can alternatively represent either the tree of death, the tree of life, the tree of Judas or the tree of knowledge. Political interpretations also abound. Some reviewers hold that the relationship between Pozzo and Lucky is that of a capitalist to his labor. This Marxist interpretation is understandable given that in the second act Pozzo is blind to what is happening around him and Lucky is mute to protest his treatment. The play has also been understood as an allegory for Franco-German relations. An interesting interpretation argues that Lucky receives his name because he is lucky in the context of the play. Since most of the play is spent trying to find things to do to pass the time, Lucky is lucky because his actions are determined absolutely by Pozzo. Pozzo on the other hand is unlucky because he not only needs to pass his own time but must find things for Lucky to do.

From Beckett to Stoppard: Existentialism, Death, and Absurdity Absurdism, one of the most exciting and creative movements in the modern theater, is a term applied to a particular type of realistic drama which has absorbed theater audiences and critics for the past three decades. One specific area, appropriately labeled "Theatre of the Absurd" by the American critic Martin Esslin in the 1960's, offers its audience an existentialist point of view of the outside world and forces them to consider the meaning of their existence in a world where there appears to be no true order or meaning. Inching ever closer to a realistic representation of life, the evolution of absurdist drama from Samuel Beckett to Tom Stoppard brings a new focus to absurdism and expands the role of philosophy and metaphor in theatrical drama. Before discussing the ways in which the Theatre of the Absurd has evolved, it is beneficial to understand where and how it developed. Many theater historians and critics label Alfred Jarry's French play, Ubu Roi as the earliest example of Theatre of the Absurd. Absurdism also has origins in Shakespearean drama, particularly through the influence of the Commedia dell'Arte. The current movement of absurdism, however, emerged in France after World War II, as a rebellion against the traditional values and beliefs of Western culture and literature. It began with the existentialist writers like JeanPaul Sartre and Albert Camus and eventually included other writers such as Eugene Ionesco, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Jean Genet, Edward Albee, and Harold Pinter, to name a few. Its rules are fairly simple: 1.) There is often

9 no real story line; instead there is a series of "free floating images" which influence the way in which an audience interprets a play. 2.) There is a focus on the incomprehensibility of the world, or an attempt to rationalize an irrational, disorderly world. 3.) Language acts as a barrier to communication, which in turn isolates the individual even more, thus making speech almost futile. In other words, absurdist drama creates an environment where people are isolated, clown-like characters blundering their way through life because they don't know what else to do. Oftentimes, characters stay together simply because they are afraid to be alone in such an incomprehensible world. Despite this negativity, however, absurdism is not completely nihilistic. Martin Esslin explains: the recognition that there is no simple explanation for all the mysteries of the world, that all previous systems have been oversimplified and therefore bound to fail, will appear to be a source of despair only to those who still feel that such a simplified system can provide an answer. The moment we realize that we may have to live without any final truths the situation changes; we may have to readjust ourselves to living with less exulted aims and by doing so become more humble, more receptive, less exposed to violent disappointments and crises of conscious - and therefore in the last resort happier and better adjusted people, simply because we then live in closer accord with reality. (Kepos 384) Therefore, the goal of absurdist drama is not solely to depress audiences with negativity, but an attempt to bring them closer to reality and help them understand their own "meaning" in life, whatever that may be. Samuel Beckett's understanding of this philosophy best characterizes how we should perceive our existence as he says, "Nothing is more real than Nothing." Building on these components of absurdism, we can now proceed to analyze the way in which absurdist drama has evolved. The two dramatists who best reveal this process of evolution are Samuel Beckett and Tom Stoppard. Using Beckett as a starting point and Stoppard as an ending point, one gets a small sense of the ways in which absurdist theater has changed and keeps changing. In comparing and contrasting these two dramatists' works, specifically changes in structure and metaphorical intent, the evolution of absurdism ventures beyond its original borders into a new and distinct realistic theater. Of the three plays which clearly reveal this evolution, Samuel Beckett's Waiting For Godot will be addressed first, followed by another one of his plays, Endgame, and finally a discussion of Tom Stoppard's play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. All of these plays metaphorically address the issue of "ending" or "dying" and through such a focus offer us a clear example of one way in which absurdism has evolved. Beckett's most popular absurdist play, Waiting For Godot, is one of the first examples critics point to when talking about the Theatre of the Absurd. Written and first performed in French in 1954, Godot had an enormous impact on theatergoers due to its strange and new conventions. Consisting of an essentially barren set, with the exception of a virtually leafless tree in the background, clown-like tramps, and highly symbolic language, Godot challenges its audience to question all of the old rules and to try to make sense of a world that is incomprehensible. At the heart of the play is the

10 theme of "coping" and "getting through the day" so that when tomorrow comes we can have the strength to continue. Structurally, Godot is a two-act play which is primarily cyclical. It begins with two lonely tramps on a roadside who are awaiting the arrival of a figure referred to as Godot and ends with the same premise. Many critics have concluded that Act Two is simply a repeat of Act One. In other words, Vladimir and Estragon may forever be "waiting for Godot." We are never given an answer to their predicament. As an audience, we can only watch them do the same things, listen to them say the same things, and accept the fact that Godot may or may not come. Much like them, we are stuck in a world where our actions dictate our survival. We may search for an answer or a meaning to our existence, but we most likely will never find it. Anthony Jenkins writes, "there can be no answers; Godot may or may not exist and may or may not arrive; we know no more about him than do Vladimir and Estragon"(40). Thus, this play is structurally arranged in such a way as to make us believe that Godot will probably never come, and that we must accept the uncertainty of life. The two main characters, Vladimir and Estragon, spend their days reliving their past trying to make sense of their existence, and even contemplate suicide as a form of escape. As characters, however, they are the prototypical absurdist figures who remain detached from the audience. They essentially lack identities and their vaudeville mannerisms, particularly when it comes to contemplating their suicides, has a more comic effect on the audience than a tragic one. This is perhaps best observed in the beginning scene of the play when they contemplate hanging themselves

The Birthday Party By Harold Pinter Harold Pinter was

working as an actor in England when he stayed briefly at a dilapidated boardinghouse that would serve as his inspiration for both The Birthday Party and The Room. As he has explained in many published works, he wrote more from intuition than from intellect, exploring his characters without pre-decided narratives in mind, and this one encounter was inspirational not because of people he met there, but because of a certain visceral feeling it gave him. Pinter wrote The Birthday Party in 1957, after his one act play The Roomattracted the attention of Michael Codron, a producer who saw much promise in the quirky playwright. The Birthday Party is Pinter’s first full length play, and the first of three plays considered his “comedy of menace” pieces. The other two are The Caretakerand The Homecoming. "Comedy of menace," a term coined by critic Irving Wardle, describes a play which paints a realistic picture while creating a subtext of intrigue and confusion, as if the playwright were employing a sleight-of-hand trick. Pinter once said, “What I write has no obligation to anything other than to itself,” which both belies the designation Wardle gave his plays, and acknowledges the originality that inspired such a designation in the first place. Inspired by other unconventional playwrights such as Samuel Beckett, Pinter transcended traditional theater by staging a familiar setting (the English home) and then throwing it into a state of

11 confusion with lies, deceit, and chaos. These juxtapositions would be further explored by Martin Esslin in his seminal study Theatre of the Absurd. The Birthday Party premiered in Cambridge's Arts Theater on April 28, 1958, with Willoughby Gray as Petey and Richard Pearson as Stanley. Pinter directed the initial productions himself, but Peter Wood took his place as director once the play hit the pre-London stage. Though the play was received well in Cambridge, it was a resounding failure during its run at the Lyric Opera House in Hammersmith. The avant-garde writing and the confusing subtext sat poorly with critics and audiences alike. Despite its initial commercial failure, The Birthday Party has since proven to be one Pinter’s most reproduced plays. It was revived by the Royal Shakespeare Company at the Aldwych Theater in London in 1964, to critical success. Pinter directed this rendition of the show and later wrote, directed, and appeared in subsequent productions, including the 1968 film version which starred Robert Shaw as Stanley. The Lyric Opera House celebrated the play’s 50th anniversary in May 2008, just months before Pinter’s death.

Character List Petey Petey Boles is the owner of the rundown boarding house in which the play takes place. He is 60 years old and married to Meg. Petey works a deckchair attendant at an unspecified seaside resort near his home on the shores of England. As the play continues, Petey’s character is revealed to be more astute. He realizes that Goldberg and McCann are more insidious than they seem, and probably knows of his wife and Stanley's strange relationship. While Petey seems to know quite a lot more than he lets on, he ultimately reveals that he will do little to compromise the comfortable, delusional existence he shares with Meg. Meg Meg Boles is a kind woman who helps run the boardinghouse. She is sixty years old and married to Petey in a seemingly childless marriage. Absentminded and simplistic, Meg often asks repetitive questions and constantly requires attention. While she does carry on a sexually-tinged relationship with Stanley, Meg lives a rather humdrum life that allows her to maintain certain delusions about her attractiveness and popularity, delusions which she works hard to protect even as the play goes to darker places. Goldberg Nat Goldberg, also called “Simey” and “Benny,” is a Jewish gentleman who works for an unnamed "organization" that has employed him to take Stanley away from the boardinghouse. He is defined by his outwardly polite and suave demeanor, which stands in stark contrast to that of his associate McCann. However, he ultimately reveals an angry, violent streak beneath this suave demeanor. Goldberg's problems seem to be connected to his past - he is nostalgic about family, and waxes poetic about the old days. To what extent these delusions explain and/or feed his anger and violence are left to the reader's imagination. McCann Dermot McCann is an Irish member of an unnamed "organization" that has hired him to take Stanley away from the boardinghouse. Unlike Goldberg, who uses words and charm to his advantage, McCann is a paragon of bodily aggression. He lacks much social skill, and is something of a simpleton.

Lulu A young woman in her twenties, Lulu is an acquaintance of Meg’s and a visitor to the boardinghouse. She is childish and flirtatious, and though she seems initially interested in

12 Stanley, she is easily attracted to Goldberg's charms. Her girlish qualities become ironically unsettling after she is sexually assaulted. Stanley Stanley Webber is ostensibly the protagonist of the play. He is the only boarder at the Boles's boardinghouse, and is initially defined by laziness, unkemptness, and smug cruelty towards Meg. The many details of his past are never confirmed - he might be a musician, might have been famous, etc. - although there is a sense that he has sins unatoned for. His aggressive depression transitions into a nervous breakdown when Goldberg and McCann arrive, until he is nothing but a bumbling idiot in Act III.

Major Themes Confusion and Chaos A key element of “the absurdist theater” is its focus on confusion and chaos. In The Birthday Party, these elements manifest constantly, especially through its characters. The primary way in which the themes manifest are through the ambiguities of lives and pasts. Stanley has some sort of mysterious past that deserves a violent reckoning, but nobody really provides its details. When Stanley describes his past to Meg in Act I, there is even the sense that he himself is confused about its particulars. Goldberg's name and past seem shrouded in mystery and delusion, and Meg convinces herself to believe things about her life that are clearly not true. Further, because of these type of confusions, the situation devolves into total chaos. From the moment Goldberg and McCann arrive, the audience can sense that the simplicity of the boardinghouse is about to be compromised, and indeed, the chaos at the end of Act II confirms it. The only truth of The Birthday Party is that there is no truth, only chaos and confusion from which we make order if we choose. Complacency Perhaps the most pessimistic aspect of The Birthday Party is that the only alternative Pinter gives to chaos and confusion is a life of apathy and complacency. The play's opening sets this up - Petey and Meg reveal a comfortable but bland life in which they talk in pleasantries and ignore anything of substance. Stanley might be more aggressive than they are, but he too has clearly chosen the safety of complacency, as he makes no effort to change his life. His lethargic lifestyle reflects the attraction comfort has for him. When Goldberg and McCann arrive, they challenge this complacent lifestyle until the whole place falls into chaos. Ultimately, Petey chooses to refortify the complacency of the boardinghouse over bravely fighting for Stanley; neither choice is truly attractive. Language The precision Pinter employs in crafting his rhythmic silences is enough to justify language as a major theme, but he moreover reveals how language can be used as a tool. Each of the characters uses language to his or her advantage. In effect, characters manipulate words to suggest deeper subtexts, so that the audience understands that true communication happens beneath language, and not through words themselves. When Stanley insults Meg, he is actually expressing his self-hatred and guilt. Goldberg is a master of language manipulation he uses speeches to deflect others questions, to redirect the flow of conversation, or to reminisce about past events. His words are rarely wasted. Meg, on the other hand, repeats herself, asking the same questions over and over again in a bid for attention. Even though she often speaks without affectation, her words mask a deep neurosis and insecurity. These are just a few examples of instances in which language is used not to tell the story, but to suggest that the story is hidden. In essence, language in The Birthday Party is a dangerous lie.

Atonement One of the great ironies in this play is that it uses what appears to be a fairly undramatic, realistic setting which nevertheless hides a surplus of guilt. The theme of atonement runs throughout the play. Stanley's past is never detailed, but he is clearly a guilty man. He is

13 vague about his past, and does anything to distract Goldberg and McCann. He does not wish to atone for whatever he did, but is forced to do so through torture. Goldberg, too, wishes to avoid whatever sins torture him but cannot fully escape them; his mood in Act III shows that he is plagued by feelings he does not wish to have. In the end, all of the characters are like Lulu, who flees when McCann offers her a chance to confess - everyone has sins to atone for, but nobody wants to face them. Nostalgia Perhaps most fitting for a contemporary audience who would see this play as something of a period piece, the theme of nostalgia is implicit but significant in The Birthday Party. Goldberg, particularly, is taken by nostalgia, frequently waxing poetic both on his own past and on the 'good old days' when men respected women. Certainly, Goldberg tells some of these stories to contrast with the way Stanley treats women, but they also suggest a delusion he has, a delusion that breaks down when he himself assaults Lulu between the second and third acts. He idealizes some past that he cannot live up to. Other characters reveal an affection for nostalgia as well. During the birthday party, Meg and Lulu both speak of their childhoods. However, their nostalgic feelings have darker sides. Meg remembers being abandoned, whereas Lulu's memories of being young lead Goldberg to bounce her perversely on his knee. Similarly, the characters play blind man's bluff specifically because it makes them nostalgic, but the sinister side of such nostalgia is inescapable in the stage image of Stanley preparing to rape Lulu. Nostalgia is lovely to feel, the play seems to suggest, but more insidious in its complexities. Violence The Birthday Party is full of violence, both physical and emotional, overall suggesting that violence is a fact of life. The violence is doubly affecting because the setting seems so pleasant and ordinary. Most of the men show their potential for violence, especially when provoked. Stanley is cruel and vicious towards Meg, but much more cowardly against other men. Both McCann and Goldberg have violent outbursts no matter how hard they try to contain themselves. Their entire operation, which boasts an outward civility, has an insidious purpose, most violent for the way it tortures Stanley slowly to force him to nervous breakdown. In both Acts II and III, they reveal how language itself can be violent in the interrogation scenes. Much of the violence in the play concerns women. Stanley not only intimidates Meg verbally, but he also prepares to assault Lulu. Goldberg in fact does assault Lulu. Finally, the threat of violence is ever-present in the play. Even before we realize that disaster might come, we can feel the potential through the many silences and tense atmosphere. Sex Sexual tension is present throughout the entire play, and it results in tragic consequences. Meg and Stanley have a strange, possible sexual relationship that frees him to treat her very cruelly. The ugliness of his behavior is echoed when Goldberg calls him a “mother defiler” and “a lecher.” In fact, Goldberg suggests that Stanley's unnamed sin involves his poor treatment of a woman. Lulu seems interested in Stanley as well, but is quickly attracted to Goldberg in Act II. Her innocence makes her prey to men's sexuality. Her openness leads to two consecutive sexual assaults, and yet she is nevertheless upset to learn that Goldberg is leaving. All in all, it is a strange, perverse undercurrent throughout the play - sex is acknowledged as a fact of life, and yet does not ever reveal positive aspects of the characters.

THE DUMB WAITER Context Harold Pinter is one of the most acclaimed contemporary British playwrights, noted particularly for his early body of work. He was born in the working-class neighborhood of East London's Hackney (an ironic

14 name for such an original writer) in 1930, the son of a Jewish tailor. He evacuated to Cornwall, England, at the outbreak of World War II in 1939, and returned to London when he was 14. He began acting in plays at his grammar school, and later received a grant to study at London's prestigious Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. He left the school after two years, and spent most of the 1950s writing his published poetry (under the name Harold Pinter) and acting in small theater productions (often under the pseudonym David Baron). In 1957, he wrote his first play in four days, The Room, a sign of the prolific output to come. His first produced play—The Birthday Partycame a year later. The reception was unfavorable—it closed within a week—but Pinter's next full-length play, The Caretaker (1960), won more accolades. The Dumb Waiter,also staged in 1960, helped cement Pinter's status as a major theatrical figure. He frequently directed, and sometimes acted in, his growing body of work in the 1960s and 1970s, while disseminating his work into radio, television, and film. After 1978's Betrayal, Pinter did not write another full-length play until 1994, but he continued writing shorter plays and adapting the work of others for the stage and screen. A conscientious objector of war when he was eighteen (for which he was fined by the Royal Academy), Pinter was motivated to be more political—both in his works and in his public life. He was particularly distressed by the dictatorial coup that overthrew Chilean President Salvador Allende in 1973. He has since become an outspoken advocate of human rights, and has criticized the Gulf War bombings and other military actions. His actions are not without controversy or contradiction—he attacked the NATO intervention in Kosovo in 1999, and in 2001 joined The International Committee to Defend Slobodan Milosevic, the former Serbian president arrested by the United Nations for crimes against humanity. Pinter's plays generally take place in a single, prison-like room. His works, which blend comedy and drama, often focus on jealousy, betrayal, and sexual politics, but it is his dialogue—and the lack of dialogue—for which he is known. Pinter's language, usually lower-class vernacular, has been described as poetic. His compressed, rhythmic lines rely heavily on subtext and hint at darker meanings. Just as important, however, are the silences in his plays. Pinter has spoken much on the subject, and has categorized speech as that which attempts to cover the nakedness of silence. His most obvious forbear is Irish playwright Samuel Beckett, who took silences to a new level, and other playwrights of the Theatre of the Absurd (a French dramatic movement in the 1950s), but whereas Beckett's silences hint at alienation, boredom, and the slow approach to death, Pinter's are ominous and violent. The true natures and motivations of his characters emerge in their silences. Despite Pinter's relative decrease in creative output, academic attention on Pinter remains as heavy as ever. The Harold Pinter Society was founded in 1991. It publishes The Pinter Review and organizes conferences.

Plot Overview In a basement with a kitchen and beds Ben reads a newspaper while Gus ties his shoelaces. Gus walks to the kitchen door, then stops and takes a flattened matchbox out of one shoe, and a flattened cigarette carton out of the other. He puts both items in his pocket and leaves for the bathroom. There's a sound of the toilet chain being pulled without it flushing, and Gus returns. Ben reports to Gus a newspaper article about a truck running over an elderly man. Ben orders Gus to make tea. Gus hopes, "it won't be a long job." Ben reports on an article about a child who kills a cat. Gus asks if Ben has noticed how long it takes for the toilet tank to fill. Gus complains he didn't sleep well on the bed, and wishes that there were a window. He laments that his life revolves around sleeping all day in an unfamiliar, dark room, then performing a job, and then leaving at night. Ben tells him they are fortunate to be employed. Gus asks if Ben ever gets fed up, but they soon fall silent. The toilet finally flushes. Ben commands him to make tea, as they will go to work very soon. Gus asks Ben why he stopped the car that morning in the middle of the road. Ben says they

15 were early. Ben tells Gus they are in the city of Birmingham. Gus wants to watch the Birmingham soccer team tomorrow (Saturday), but Ben says that there is no time and that they have to get back. Gus speaks about a Birmingham game they once saw together, but Ben denies it. An envelope slides under the door. Neither one knows what is in the envelope. Ben orders Gus to pick it up and open it. He does, and empties out twelve matches. They are confused, and Ben commands Gus to open the door and see if anyone is outside. With a revolver for protection, Gus finds no one. Gus says the matches will come in handy, as he always runs out. Ben tells him to light the kettle instead. They debate the phrase "light the kettle." Gus feels one should say the "gas," since that is what is being lit, or "put on the kettle," a phrase his mother used. Ben denies this and challenges Gus to remember the last time he saw his mother. After further arguments about the phrase, in which Ben reminds Gus that he has seniority, Ben chokes Gus and screams "THE KETTLE, YOU FOOL!" Gus acquiesces and tries to see if the matches will light. They don't light on the flattened box, but they work on his foot. Ben says, "Put on the bloody kettle," then realizes he has used Gus's phrase. He then stares at Gus until he leaves. Gus comes back, having lit the kettle, and wonders, "who it'll be tonight." He says he wants to ask Ben something, and sits on Ben's bed, which annoys him. Ben asks Gus why he barrages him with so many questions, and tells him to do his job and shut up. After Gus repeatedly asks who it's going to be tonight and a moment of silence, Ben orders him to make tea. After he leaves, Ben checks his revolver under his pillow for ammunition. Gus returns and says that the gas has gone out and the meter needs to be refilled with coins. Ben says they'll have to wait for Wilson. Gus says that Wilson doesn't always come—he sometimes sends only a message. Gus argues that since no one ever hears anything, Wilson must own all the places they go to; Ben says Wilson rents them. Gus also finds it hard to talk to Wilson, and says he's been thinking about the "last one"—a girl. He remembers the job was a "mess." He wonders who "clears up" after they leave. Ben reminds him that there are many "departments" in their "organization" that take care of other matters. They are interrupted by a sound from the wall. They investigate and find a box on a dumb waiter (a small elevator used for conveying food and dishes between stories of a building). Gus pulls a piece of paper out, and reads out an order for food. The dumb waiter ascends. Ben explains that the upstairs used to be a café, the basement was the kitchen, and that these places change ownership quickly. The dumb waiter descends again, and Gus pulls out another order for food. Gus looks up the hatch, but Ben pushes him away. Ben decides they should send something up, but they have only a little food. They put everything on a plate, but the dumb waiter ascends before they can put the plate on it. The box descends again with another order, this time for "high class" exotic food. They put the plate on and Gus calls up the brand names of the food. Ben tells him not to shout, as "It isn't done." Gus then discusses, without Ben's answering, his feelings of anxiety about the job and Wilson. Another order comes down the passage for more food with which they are unfamiliar. The packet of tea they sent up has also returned. Ben decides they should write a note telling them they can't fill the orders, but then they notice an intercom tube. Gus yells into the tube that there is no food. Ben gives Gus the instructions for the job. They must corner the target with guns when he or she enters the room. Gus excuses himself to the bathroom, where the toilet again does not flush, and returns. He asks Ben who is upstairs. They argue, and Gus wants to know why they have to play these "games." Ben hits him twice on the shoulder. Another order comes, they fight again, and then they retreat into silence, Ben reading his newspaper, as the dumb waiter goes up and comes down again. Gus leaves to get a drink of water, and the speaking tube whistle blows. Ben listens through the tube and confirms that it is time to do their job. He hangs up and calls for Gus. He levels his gun at the door and Gus stumbles in, vulnerably stripped of some of his clothes and his gun. He looks up at Ben, and they stare at each other through a long silence.

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Analysis of Major Characters Gus The audience is meant to sympathize with Gus, the well-meaning, slightly slower junior partner-in-crime to Ben. We are in the same position as Gus: like Gus, we are not familiar with the job they are going to perform, we don't know what exactly is happening upstairs from the basement, and Ben's betrayal should be as much of a shock to us as it is to Gus. Gus is somewhat child-like, pestering Ben with numerous requests, complaints about their environment, and questions. He is generally submissive to Ben's orders—everything from making tea to investigating outside the door—though he stands up for what he believes in, as with the "Light the kettle" argument. Gus is more sensitive than Ben to issues of traditional human concern. He often touches upon deeper issues Ben does not wish to contemplate—about death, the dull routine of life, and the nature of the elusive employer Wilson. He is concerned with the consequences of his job. He is haunted by the image of their messy murder of their last victim, a girl, and is anxious about this next job. He is fed up with the dull routine of life, but can do nothing to get out of it. His recurring trips to the bathroom underscore his imprisonment to routine, especially in contrast with Ben, who never goes to the bathroom. Unlike Ben, he has no hobbies, which accounts for his awareness of his static life. If one were to read The Dumb Waiter as an allegory of capitalist slavery, then Gus is the employee who, because life offers him so little, recognizes something wrong with the class structure. He sees cracks in the façade of Wilson—he is unafraid to yell and peer up the serving hatch to where the god-like figure reposes—but still feels uneasy in his presence, as most underlings do with their powerful bosses. He also places accountability on Wilson as the controller of the means of production; although Ben tells him otherwise, Gus believes that Wilson owns the café and should therefore pay for the gas meter (he is also miffed that Wilson, or the person upstairs, wants tea while they are hungry and thirsty). Gus's classconsciousness includes some shame about his poverty, but it is less than that exhibited by Ben. When they send their working-class food up the dumb waiter, Gus calls out the brand names as if announcing a fancy dinner menu. Many productions of The Dumb Waiter will give the actor playing Gus a Cockney accent to emphasize his lower-class standing, but little else is known about his background. We learn that he has not seen his mother in a long time, that he enjoys soccer, and is somewhat unfamiliar with the richer sport of cricket. By the end of play, Gus becomes somewhat resigned to his life enslaved to routine. He accepts Ben's instructions to kill by mechanically repeating them. When he realizes that Ben is betraying him, his silence does not seem like one of shock. Rather, he has turned into a dumb waiter—manipulated by others to carry out their directions, unable to speak for himself. Ben Ben is the more dominant of the two criminals. As such, they resemble the various couples in Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot, who also complement each other with submissive and dominant traits. Ben broods and reads his newspaper, and his silences are as much a feature of his character as his dialogue. Whether Gus is asking him about the job, Wilson, or if he ever gets bored with life, Ben refuses to enter into a meaningful discussion. Part of the reason, of course, is that he does not want to reveal the purpose of the job: to execute Gus. The other reason is that Ben's chilling silences are laced with a defensive violence. Harold Pinter has defined speech as a strategy designed to cover the nakedness of silence, and Ben is a prime example. He compensates for his naked silences with a constant aura of violence and intimidation. And just as he frequently checks his gun to maintain his potential for violence, his often-venomous speech further obscures his naked vulnerability. In the

17 argument over the phrase "Light the kettle," the marriage of violent speech and violent action seems appropriate when Ben chokes Gus while screaming "THE KETTLE, YOU FOOL!" Ben's language denotes other parts of his personality, especially his shame over his lower class. He feigns understanding the names of the orders for exotic dishes sent down via the dumb waiter (where upstairs, presumably, someone of higher standing, physically and socially, presides). When they run of food in the basement, he tells Gus (who yells up the hatch) to observe decorum, then strains to make a formal apology. He is also immensely pleased when the person upstairs uses Ben's phrase "Light the kettle." Like Gus, Ben is a slave to the organization (one with several "departments"), but he does not have the same class-consciousness as Gus; his partner is more aware of their unfortunate lot in life, while Ben considers themselves "fortunate" and diverts himself with hobbies. He also accepts whatever Wilson tells him to do, making him as much a manipulated mute carrier of actions as Gus is to Ben—a human "dumb waiter." His betrayal of Gus at Wilson's behest is an unsettling reminder of what workers will do to gain the acceptance of their superiors. Wilson Wilson never appears in the play, but he is directly or indirectly behind the messages from the dumb waiter and speaking tube. His obvious theatrical corollary is Godot inBeckett's Waiting for Godot. Both are off-stage characters who exercise a powerful, god-like influence over the on-stage characters. When Gus suggests that Wilson is playing "games" with the men (the orders for food), it raises the possibility of Wilson's having a sadistic personality—a malevolent god. Not only is he going to execute Gus, for unknown reasons, but he will put him through an agonizing final day. Gus also mentions that Wilson put them through tests several years ago to prove themselves, so we know that Wilson may also be paranoid (a reasonable expectation for the head of a crime syndicate).

Themes, Motifs, and Symbols Themes The Silence and Violence of Language Pinter's work is heavily influenced by Samuel Beckett, who used silence-filled pauses for a revolutionary theatrical effect. Pinter has spoken of speech as a stratagem designed to cover the nakedness of silence, and these aims are often evident in the dialogue of Gus and Ben. Ben's most prominent response to Gus's constant questions about the nature of their jobs is silence. Lurking underneath this silence is always the threat of violence, the anticipation of something deathly—the play ends as Ben trains his gun on Gus in silence. Gus's questions and lamentations are also deflected, delayed, or interrupted. Ben frequently changes the conversation and never replies with any emotional depth to Gus's more probing questions. In the same way, they both avoid discussing with any profundity the newspaper articles about death, skipping past them to more trivial matters, such as the malfunctioning toilet. Ben sometimes delays his response until they are interrupted—by the sound of an inanimate object, such as the toilet (which flushes on a delay) and the dumb waiter. The language itself is also tinged with violence, especially when the topic is something seemingly trivial. The men's argument over the phrase "Light the kettle" is filled with Ben's barbs that intimidate and shame Gus. Moreover, when Ben screams "THE KETTLE, YOU FOOL!" and chokes Gus, one gets the feeling that his words are intertwined with the act of physical violence. In a sense, the looming presence of Wilson is the most dominating silence in the play. Assuming Wilson is the one sending the men messages through the dumb waiter and the speaking tube (and Gus does say at one point that sometimes Wilson only sends messages), then the audience never gets a chance to hear him, but only hears him through a secondary mouthpiece as the men read or repeat his orders. His mysteriousness is one of the more sinister components of the play, for Wilson seems to be

18 everywhere through his multi- tiered organization. He performs an off-stage role similar to that of Godot in Beckett's Waiting for Godot, but whereas Godot symbolizes a neutral god-like figure for whom the characters wait, Wilson is a malevolent god whom the characters wait for in violent silence. Anxiety Over Social Class Gus and Ben are both lower-class criminals, and most productions of the play emphasize their social status with appropriate dialects and accents. Some productions may even opt to give Ben a slightly higher-ranking accent, as he is more concerned with his standing. He repeatedly admonishes Gus for his "slack" appearance and habits, urging him to make himself more presentable, but Ben also seems more resigned to his lowly criminal life; he considers them fortunate for having jobs. His profound shame over his class emerges in interactions with those upstairs via the dumb waiter, and much of this shame is tied to language. The food orders from the dumb waiter are for increasingly exotic foods with unfamiliar names, and Ben pretends to know how to make them only to a point. When they decide to send up their cache of food, even Gus feels he has to impress those upstairs by announcing the brand names of their pedestrian foodstuffs. Ben also happily reports that the man upstairs, presumably of higher social standing, uses the same debated phrase—"Light the kettle"—as he does, and he warns Gus to observe decorum when talking to the upstairs, as he demonstrates with his formal apology. Ben is far more reverent of Wilson than the inquiring Gus, and his deference is attributed less to feelings of respect than to an overriding inferiority complex; Wilson is their leader for a reason, and he must obey him at all costs, even if it means betraying his friend. In this light, The Dumb Waiter can be read as an anti-corporate update of Beckett's Waiting for Godot,an allegory of in- fighting and what corporate workers will do to please their superiors. Motifs Repetition At the play's start and end, Ben expresses outrage at an article in the newspaper while Gus sympathizes. Similar repetitions mark the action throughout the play. Early on, Gus bemoans the dull sleep-and-work routine of his life, and various repetitive actions—from Gus's tendency to run out matches to his recurring trips to the bathroom—emerge as the basis of this cyclical fatigue. Language, however, is where Pinter's use of repetition points to violence and the nearness of death. Gus almost always has to repeat and rephrase his important questions to Ben, questions that touch upon darker issues Ben does not wish to reveal. Ben's mechanical instructions to Gus on how to execute their murder are repeated by Gus with similar detachment, and when Ben echoes through the speaking tube his own mission to kill Gus, it likewise echoes the previous interaction with Gus. Pinter has compared echoes to silence, and if one views the silences in his plays as indications of violence, then linguistic echoes and repetitive actions suggest violence as well. Symbols The dumb waiter The dumb waiter serves as a symbol for the broken, one-sided communication between Gus and Ben. If messages are to be sent via the dumb waiter, then only one person at a time can send them, and one cannot simultaneously speak and listen through the dumb waiter's speaking tube. Correspondingly, Gus and Ben never have a fully open dialogue—minimized even more by Ben's knowledge of his impending betrayal of Gus—and whenever Gus tries to bring up something emotional, Ben refuses to speak with him. This disconnection is the essence of their relationship. They do not speak with, but to each other. They are like the dumb waiter—mute carriers of information, not sharers of it. Moreover, Ben, especially, is manipulated by Wilson in the same way that the dumb waiter is controlled by its system of pulleys.

19

Part One: Beginning Until The Envelope

Summary The setting is a basement with two beds, a serving hatch, a kitchen and bathroom to the left, and another passage to the right. In silence, Ben reads a newspaper on his bed while Gus ties his shoelaces on his bed. Gus finishes and walks to the kitchen door, then stops and shakes his foot. Ben watches as Gus takes a flattened matchbox out of his shoe. After he and Ben exchange a glance, Gus puts it in his pocket. From his other shoe, he takes out a flattened cigarette carton. They exchange another look, and Gus puts the carton in his pocket before he leaves for the bathroom. There's a sound of the toilet chain being pulled without it flushing, and Gus returns. Ben angrily relates to Gus a newspaper article, which reports on an elderly man who tried to cross a busy street by crawling under a truck, which then ran over him. Gus agrees that it is abominable. Gus again tries to flush the toilet, but it doesn't work. When he returns, Ben orders him to make tea. Gus admires the dishware. He asks Ben for a cigarette, and hopes, "it won't be a long job." He remembers he wanted to ask Ben something, but is interrupted by Ben who reports on an article about a child killing a cat. Gus then asks if Ben has noticed how long it takes for the toilet tank to fill. Ben suggests that it is a "deficient ballcock." Gus complains that he didn't sleep well on the bed and then sees a picture on the wall of cricket players entitled "The First Eleven." Neither he nor Ben knows that the "first eleven" refers to a school's top cricket players. He wishes for a window in the room and laments that his life revolves around entering a dark room he's never seen before, sleeping all day, doing a job, and then leaving at night. Ben tells him that they are fortunate to be employed only once a week and tells Gus his problem is a lack of interests. Ben, for example, has woodwork and model boats, and never stays idle. Gus asks if Ben ever gets fed up, but they soon fall silent. The toilet finally flushes, which Gus comments on before further criticizing the basement. Ben commands him to make tea, as they will be "on the job" very soon. As Gus takes out a tea bag and examines it, he asks Gus why he stopped the car that morning in the middle of the road. Ben says that they were early. Gus asks if they were too early to move in, which explains why the sheets seemed dirty to him. Gus has forgotten what town they are in and Ben tells him that they are in Birmingham. Gus says that it is an industrial city, the second-biggest city in Great Britain. Gus wants to watch the Birmingham soccer team tomorrow (Saturday), but Ben says that there is no time and that they have to get back, even though they used to stay over after a job. Gus speaks about a Birmingham game they once saw together, but Ben refutes the details that Gus remembers. An envelope slides under the door. Analysis The influence of Irish playwright Samuel Beckett on Harold Pinter is apparent in this play, and numerous similarities and allusions to Beckett's Waiting for Godot crop up in this section. As with Godot, there are two characters, one dominant, one submissive, who share the amount of letters and syllables in their names (although Pinter's Gus and Ben are simpler names—and simpler characters—than Beckett's Vladimir and Estragon). Gus's difficulty in putting on his shoe corresponds to a similar problem with a boot in Beckett's play. In both plays, moreover, the characters have been stranded in one place with an unclear purpose, at least from the audience's perspective. The single location is a staple of Pinter's other plays, as well. Pinter's use of repetition and silence also harkens back to Beckett's work. Beckett's primary use of these is to suggest the ideas of alienation and the approach of death, but Pinter fashions them with a more

20 sinister, violent touch. Pinter has said that silence is a form of nakedness, and that speech is an attempt to cover this nakedness. Gus keeps wanting to ask Ben something but is interrupted, an exchange that will repeat throughout the play. The dialogue in between is often Ben's attempt to delay answering Gus's question—here, a trivial matter about the toilet. Ben also uses silence to deflect the potential for more intimate probing from Gus. Not only are Ben's delays and interruptions a form of silence, but even they are interrupted—Ben's reports of the death of the elderly man and the cat, serious matters of mortality, are quickly aborted in favor of more mundane concerns. The men do not break the silence themselves usually. Rather, the sound of an inanimate object—the toilet—jolts them back into discussion. The toilet serves as a base for Gus throughout the play. It represents repetition, and the futility of repetition. Like the choppy dialogue, the toilet works on a delay—the flush is preceded by a long pause —solidifying the notion that repetition effects little change. Just as Gus transfers the flattened matchbox and carton (both defective objects) from his shoes to his pocket—one receptacle to another—the receptacle of the defective toilet transfers human waste to the receptacle of the sewers. The waste, however, does not disappear; it will return in some form, and is part of the cyclical nature of life that bores Gus, the dull repetition of work and sleep. The characters' complete separation from the upper class is also introduced and will be explored in further depth later. Their unfamiliarity with the sporting terms of posh cricket and their affection for the more working-class game of soccer immediately defines their social standing.

Part Two: From the Envelope to Ben's Gun Summary Neither Ben nor Gus knows what is in the envelope. Ben orders Gus to pick it up and open it. He does, and empties out twelve matches. They are confused, and Ben commands Gus to open the door and see if anyone's outside. With a revolver from under his pillow for protection, Gus investigates but finds no one. Gus says the matches will come in handy, as he always runs out. Ben reprimands him for probing his ear with a match, telling him not to waste them and to light the kettle instead. They debate the phrase "light the kettle"; Gus feels one should say the "gas," since that is what is being lit, or "put on the kettle," a phrase his mother used. Ben will have none of this, and challenges Gus to remember the last time he saw his mother (he can't remember). After further arguments about the phrase, in which Ben reminds Gus that he's the senior partner, Ben chokes Gus and screams "THE KETTLE, YOU FOOL!" Gus acquiesces and tries to see if the matches light; they don't on the flattened box, but they work on his foot. Ben says, "Put on the bloody kettle," then realizes he's used Gus's phrase, and looks at Gus until his partner leaves. Gus comes back, having put on the kettle, and wonders, "who it'll be tonight." He says he wants to ask Ben something, and sits on Ben's bed, which annoys him. Ben asks Gus why he barrages him with so many questions, and tells him to do his job and shut up. After Gus repeatedly asks who it's going to be tonight and a moment of silence, Ben orders him to make tea. After he leaves, Ben checks his revolver under his pillow for ammunition. Analysis Ben's dominance and Gus's submission intensify in this section. Ben continually bosses Gus around, and even puts him in danger when he tells him to open the door. It is becoming clear that they are hitmen—the "who" in "who it'll be tonight" refers to their victim—and Pinter contrasts the violence of their jobs with their commonplace language and concerns. In ways, The Dumb Waiter is a precursor to a major conceit of modern gangster films, such as those of Quentin Tarantino, films that juxtapose, often to comic effect, the violence of the criminal's job with his banal, but revealing, small talk. The argument over "light the kettle" is seemingly trivial but divulges key information about the men: Gus no longer sees his mother, and Ben is the senior partner.

21 The debate also produces the men's first physical confrontation after much verbal build-up. It is no accident that Ben screams and chokes Gus at the same time. Pinter is known for the innate violence in his characters' language, violence that lurks beneath the clipped structure of the language, and Ben's dialogue is a part of, and nearly causes, the physical violence. The violence is offset by the comic effect, which occurs after the confrontation, when Ben unconsciously uses the same language as Gus. Moreover, his comical use of Gus's phrase after displaying intense hostility to it implies that repetition of language can dull its effect, and that it can mechanically flow between people as an unconscious transaction. Pinter reinforces the mechanical feeling with his use of repetition. Gus twice says that he doesn't know what the envelope is, and twice that "no one" and "nothing" were outside. These last two statements both express an absence—both of knowledge and of the physical presence—that constitute a type of silence, and Ben's repetitive queries try to cover this naked, fearful mystery with extraneous speech. He later deflects Gus's question referring to who they will victimize, answering with silence and then ordering Gus to make tea. The other theme behind repetitiveness in the play is how it dulls life into a cyclical routine, and we can view Gus's running out of matches as a symbol of how life continually burns down and then refuels. Ben's scolding Gus over not wasting the matches is almost pointless. Sooner or later, they will be wasted, but their supply will be replenished.

Part Three: After Ben Checks his Gun Summary Gus returns and says that the gas has gone out, as the meter needs to be refilled with coins. Ben says they'll have to wait for Wilson. Gus says that Wilson doesn't always come—that he sometimes sends only a message—and complains about not having a cup of tea "before." He believes that, as it's his place, Wilson should pay for the meter. Ben denies this, saying Wilson has only rented it. Gus is insistent, arguing that since no one ever complains or hears anything, Wilson must own all the places they go to. He also finds it hard to talk to Wilson, and says that he's been thinking about the "last one"— a girl. When Ben reads his newspaper instead of answering him, he and Gus get into an argument. Gus continues talking about the girl. The job was a "mess," he recalls, as women don't "hold together like men." He wonders who cleans up for them after they leave. Ben reminds him that other departments take care of those matters. A clattering sound from the wall between their beds interrupts them. With guns in hand, they investigate and find a box on a dumb waiter (a small elevator controlled by pulleys that delivers food or other goods between floors, usually in restaurants or hotels). Gus pulls a piece of paper out, and Ben tells him to read it. It lists an order for food. The dumb waiter ascends. Ben explains that the upstairs used to be a café, the basement was the kitchen, and that these places change ownership quickly. Gus loudly wonders who has moved in. The dumb waiter descends again, and Gus pulls out another order for food. Gus looks up the hatch, but Ben pushes him away. Ben decides that they should send something up, but they have only a little food. Gus keeps revealing more food, however—a cake, and a bag of chips. They put everything on a plate, but the dumb waiter ascends before they can put the plate on it. They decide to wait until the dumb waiter returns. Gus wonders how it could be a café if the gas stove is so inefficient. The box descends again with another order, this time for "high class" exotic food such as "Ormitha Macarounada." Ben pretends to know how to make the dish. They put the plate on the dumb waiter and Gus yells up the hatch, announcing the brand names of the food. Ben tells him that he shouldn't shout. Ben warns Gus not to lose sight of their job and tells him to get ready and polish his gun. Gus wonders about the possibility of another nearby kitchen, which Ben supports. Gus then discusses, without Ben's answering, his feelings of anxiety about the job and Wilson. Another order comes down the passage for more food with which they are unfamiliar. Much to Ben's chagrin, the packet of tea they sent up has also returned, perhaps because, as Gus suggests, it isn't teatime.

22 Analysis The influence of Beckett's Waiting for Godot deepens in this section, in which it becomes clearer that Ben is perhaps not telling Gus the complete truth about their operation—they are certainly in the kitchen of a working café, not merely a basement, and something is odd about their interaction with the person or people upstairs. In Godot, the two men wait around for a man named Godot who never arrives, yet who exercises great power over them. InThe Dumb Waiter, Ben and Gus are at the beck and call of Wilson, a mysterious character who dominates the duo even when he's not around—or perhaps especially when he's not around. Ben is more reverent of Wilson, while Gus is wary of their relationship to the mysterious figure. It is therefore not surprising that Gus is the one who looks up and wants to shout up the hatch—investigating the god upstairs, so to speak—and not Ben, who seems fearful of angering the gods and who is anxious to please them. He is noticeably embarrassed when the tea is returned. Gus also seems to hold a greater sensitivity to his job. He is not only disturbed about their murder of the girl, but he wonders who has the task of cleaning up the remains. The characters' anxiety over their lower-class status hangs over the food sequence. It begins with their inability to pay for the meter, which inhibits their ability to make their own food, or at least to brew their own tea. Their anxiety amplifies when they feel they need to send more food back up the hatch, and then with the orders for increasingly fancy food with which they are not familiar. Much of this class tension is bound up in language. Gus tries to dress up their own standard food by announcing the brand names associated with the items, names that pale in comparison to the exotic names of the ordered dishes, such as "Ormitha Macarounada." Ben noticeably tries to cover up his lower-class status by pretending that he knows how to make the dish. The characters' dialect is also distinctly lower class, abrupt sentences peppered with idiomatic utterances like "Kaw!" Many productions of The Dumb Waiter emphasize Ben's and Gus's different relationships to class by giving Ben an accent of a slightly better-off Englishman, while Gus often speaks in a lower-class Cockney accent. American audiences may not be able to distinguish between the particular accents so readily. Interruptions and abbreviations continue to play a significant role in this section, as Gus's continuing questions about the nature of their job and the café are twice broken by the sounds of the descending dumb waiter. As of now, Ben and Gus's communication with the upstairs via the dumb waiter has been based on written notes with abbreviated sentences at that. This limited communication will assume a more symbolic form in the next sectio

Part Four: Speaking Tube until End Ben decides that they should write a note telling the people upstairs that they can't fill the orders and, while looking for a pencil, he finds a speaking tube (an intercom-like device for communicating upstairs). Gus whistles into the tube, to alert the people, and says, "The larder's bare!" Ben takes the tube from him and more formally states that they are out of food. He listens into the tube and reports to Gus that the food they sent up was stale or went bad, and apologizes through the tube. When he hangs up, he informs Gus that the person on the other end used the phrase "Light the kettle" when he asked for a cup of tea. They then realize that they can't light the kettle, for there is no gas. Gus is upset because he is thirsty and hungry, while the man upstairs, who probably has food, wants tea from them. Ben, quietly and with fatigue, gives Gus the instructions for the job, instructions that Gus repeats out loud. Ben instructs Gus to stand behind a door, but to not answer a knock on the door. He must shut the door behind the man who comes in without exposing himself (Gus), allowing the man to see and approach Ben. When Ben takes out his gun they will have cornered the man. At this point, Gus reminds Ben that so far he hasn't taken his own gun out, but Ben then includes that Gus should have taken his gun out when he closed the door. Moreover, Ben states, the man—or girl—will look at them in silence. Gus excuses himself to the bathroom, where the toilet again does not flush, and returns. He paces about, looking troubled, and asks why they were sent matches if the man upstairs knew there was no

23 gas. He repeats the question and then asks Ben if he knows who is upstairs. They argue, and Gus reminds Ben that he told him who owned the place, and wants to know why he's playing these games. Ben hits him twice on the shoulder. Gus wants to know why they're being toyed with since they passed their tests years ago and proved themselves. Another order comes, accompanied by a whistle from the speaking tube. Gus reads the order and yells into the tube that they have nothing left. Ben pushes Gus away and slaps him, ordering him to stop. They retreat into silence—Ben reading his newspaper—as the dumb waiter goes up and comes down again. Ben expresses outraged amazement at a news article, and Gus, in increasingly lower tones, concurs. Gus leaves to get a drink of water, and the speaking tube whistle blows. Ben listens through the tube and repeats out loud the order that the man has arrived and they will be commencing their job shortly. He hangs up and calls for Gus, and shifts his jacket to obscure his gun. He levels his gun at the door and Gus stumbles in, stripped of some of his clothes and his gun. He looks up at Ben, and they stare at each other through a long silence. Analysis The dumb waiter, with its accompanying speaking tube, becomes an agent for murder as the play ends, but the device is also a metaphor for the type of communication that has already split apart Ben and Gus. Whenever Gus broaches an important topic—here, especially, Wilson and his "games"—Ben deflects the question or descends into silence. They communicate as if with a dumb waiter; one says something, it travels to and registers with the other, and then a reply is made (if at all). It is impossible for both men to speak their minds at once, just as the dumb waiter restricts language (either in the form of a note or the speaking tube) to one person at a time; its very name indicates muteness. They do not converse in true dialogue with one other. Rather, they speak to each other, not with one another. Fittingly, when he finds the speaking tube, Gus ironically says, "Funny I never noticed it before." He and Ben have had a block in their communication with each other that is highlighted by his reference to the tube used for communication. This lack of communication heightens the sense that Ben has been withholding information from Gus and perhaps even betraying his partner. Whenever Gus strays too close to the truth—a truth Ben seems to be more aware of—Ben withholds and alters crucial information (such as his lie about the café's changing ownership), almost as if he were retracting the evidence on a dumb waiter and adjusting it for the return trip. His language throughout the play, then, stands on its own as a betrayal, a closely monitored transaction of information that takes pains not to give too much away. Betrayal is a constant theme in Pinter's work—he has a play titled Betrayal—and here we must take Ben's word that the job is about to commence, but we do not know if it will be carried out the way he originally indicated or whether he will end up actually shooting Gus. But the repetitive, mechanical quality of language is the ultimate murderer here. The characters' repetition of their newspaper routine—an act that surely occurs every day—is part of the slow approach to death that Gus spoke of at the start of the play when he bemoaned his dull, cyclical life. Ben's instructions, which Gus repeats, similarly drain the life out of an act that itself seeks to end life. Gus's toneless echo is actually a form of silence that seeks to avoid having to perform the horrifying act.

Pygmalion By George Bernard Shaw Summary In Covent Garden, the Eynsford Hills wait for a cab in the rain. When Freddy goes to hail one, he knocks Liza's flowers out of her basket. She accepts money from Freddy's mother, then Colonel Pickering. A bystander warns her that a man is writing down what she is saying, and she confronts him, saying that she has done nothing wrong. Higgins amazes the crowd by imitating her accent and guessing where they all come from. Pickering and Higgins meet and

24 agree to have dinner, and Higgins fills Liza's basket with money before he leaves. Liza leaves in a cab. The next day, Liza intrudes upon Pickering and Higgins in Higgins's home. She wants English lessons, and Pickering bets that Higgins could not pass her off as a lady at the ambassador's ball in a month's time. Mrs. Pearce takes Liza away to bathe her and dress her more appropriately, and Liza's father arrives and demands some payment. Higgins likes him and gives him five pounds. A few months later, Mrs. Higgins is writing letters at home when she is interrupted by her son, who shocks her by telling her that he is bringing a flower-girl to his house. The Eynsford Hills arrive for a visit, as does Eliza--with her newly elegant accent and manner. Freddy is infatuated right away. Eliza makes the mistake of swearing and describing her aunt's alcoholism, and she is hustled away by Higgins. Clarathinks that swearing is the new fashion and shocks her mother by saying "bloody" on the way out. Mrs. Higgins scolds Pickering and her son for not considering what is to be done with Eliza after the experiment. At midnight at Higgins's house, Eliza enters looking exhausted. Higgins ignores her, looking for his slippers and crowing over her success at fooling everyone as his own. Eliza begins to look furious. When Higgins asks where his slippers are, Eliza throws them at his face. She explains that she does not know what to do with herself now that Higgins has transformed her. He suggests that she marry, to which she responds that she used to be something better than a prostitute when she sold flowers. She throws the ring that he gave her into the fireplace, and he loses his temper at her and leaves the room. She looks for the ring in the ashes. Mrs. Higgins is in her drawing room when her son comes and tells her that Eliza has run away. Doolittle arrives and announces that after he spoke with Higgins, Higgins recommended him as a speaker to an American millionaire who died and left him everything. Doolittle is now middle-class and hating every minute of it; his mistress is forcing him to marry her that afternoon. Eliza comes downstairs (she ran away to Mrs. Higgins's house), and Higgins looks flabbergasted. Doolittle invites Pickering and Mrs. Higgins to the wedding, and they leave Eliza and Higgins alone to talk. Eliza says that she does not want to be treated like a pair of slippers--and Freddy writes her love letters every day. When she threatens to become a phonetics teacher herself and use Higgins's methods, he says that he likes the new, stronger version of Eliza. He wants to live with her and Pickering as "three bachelors." Mrs. Higgins returns dressed for the wedding, and she takes Eliza with her. Higgins asks her to run his errands for him, including that of buying some cheese and ham. She says a final goodbye to him, and he seems confident that she will follow his command. The onstage drama ends, and Shaw narrates, in an epilogue, that Eliza recognizes Higgins as predestined to be a bachelor; she marries Freddy instead. With a gift from Colonel Pickering, Eliza opens a flower shop. The only person truly bothered by this state of affairs is Clara, who decides that the marriage will not help her own marriage prospects. But then she begins to read H.G. Wells and travel in the circles of his fans, and she is convinced to begin working in a furniture shop herself in the hopes that she might meet Wells (because the woman who owns the shop is also a fan of his). Freddy is not very practical, and he and Eliza must take classes in bookkeeping to make their business a success. They do reach success, and they live a fairly comfortable life.

About Pygmalion Pygmalion has become by far Shaw's most famous play, mostly through its film adaptation in 1938. Shaw was intimately involved with the making of the film. He wrote the screenplay and was the first man to win both a Nobel Prize and an Academy Award. Shaw wrote the part of Eliza Doolittle for a beautiful actress named Mrs. Patrick Campbell, with whom it was rumored that he was having an affair. This rumor later turned out not to be

25 true, and some critics read the disappointed love affair between Higgins and Eliza as reflecting Shaw's own romantic frustrations including a long, celibate marriage. Shaw once proclaimed: "The English have no respect for their language, and will not teach their children to speak it. They spell it so abominably that no man can teach himself what it sounds like." Much ofPygmalion is wrapped up with the class identification that comes with having an accent in British society. As a socialist with strong convictions, Shaw used the stage to expose hypocrisies surrounding marriage, language, and convention. Shaw's preoccupation with language in this play may also have had something to do with the fact that the most frequent criticism of his earlier plays was that his characters engaged in witty banter that lacked depth. By making language the center of this play, Shaw highlights the significance of something that his critics, despite their criticisms, were tending to downplay.

Character List Liza a poor girl who was thrown out by her parents as soon as she was old enough to make a living selling flowers on the street Eliza Doolittle the same person as Liza; what she begins to be called when she acquires a genteel accent and set of manners under Higgins's tutelage Henry Higgins a professor of phonetics who takes on Liza as a pupil as a dare, or as an experiment Colonial Pickering an Englishman who has served in India and written in the field of liguistics there; a perfect gentleman who always treats Liza with utmost kindness

Mrs. Higgins Henry's mother, who disapproves of her son's wild ways and who takes Liza under her wing Mrs. Pearce Higgins's housekeeper; an extremely proper and class-aware lady, she heartily disapproves of the experiment Freddy a poor, genteel young man who falls in love with Eliza Clara Freddy's sister, who regards Higgins as marriageable Mrs. Eynsford Hill Freddy's and Clara's mother Mr. Doolittle Liza's father, who amuses Higgins very much; he comes into a fortune after the death of an American millionaire to whom Higgins had recommended him

Major Themes Class The social hierarchy is an unavoidable reality in Britain, and it is interesting to watch it play out in the work of a socialist playwright. Shaw includes members of all social classes from the lowest (Liza) to the servant class (Mrs. Pearce) to the middle class (Doolittle after his inheritance) to the genteel poor (the Eynsford Hills) to the upper class (Pickering and the Higginses). The general sense is that class structures are rigid and should not be tampered

26 with, so the example of Liza's class mobility is most shocking. The issue of language is tied up in class quite closely; the fact that Higgins is able to identify where people were born by their accents is telling. British class and identity are very much tied up in their land and their birthplace, so it becomes hard to be socially mobile if your accent marks you as coming from a certain location. Gentility and Manners Good manners (or any manners at all) were mostly associated with the upper class at this time. Shaw's position on manners is somewhat unclear; as a socialist, one would think that he would have no time for them because they are a marker of class divisions. Yet, Higgins's pattern of treating everyone like dirt--while just as democratic as Pickering's of treating everyone like a duke or duchess--is less satisfactory than Pickering's. It is a poignant moment at the end of Pygmalion when Liza thanks Pickering for teaching her manners and pointedly comments that otherwise she would have had no way of learning them. Marriage and Prostitution These institutions are very much related in Shaw's plays, especially in Mrs. Warren's profession. From his unusual standpoint of being committed to a celibate marriage, Shaw apparently feels free to denounce marriage as an exchange of sexuality for money similar to prostitution (even though this was not happening in his own marriage). Ironically, while her father expresses no regrets when he is led to believe that Liza will take up this profession, it is she who denounces it. She declares that she was less degraded as a flower-seller than as a "genteel" lady trying to make an appropriate marriage--because as a flower-seller, at least, she wasn't selling her body. Myths of Creation Of all Shaw's plays, Pygmalion has the most references to Greek and Roman mythology. Higgins represents Pygmalion, a Greek sculptor who lived alone because he hated women. Pygmalion created a sculpture of a perfect woman and fell in love with it; after he prayed, Aphrodite brought it to life for him. This statue is named Galatea, and it is represented in Shaw's play by Liza. Unlike the myth, Shaw's play does not end in a marriage between the pair, and Liza is infuriated with Higgins's suggestion that her success is his success and that he has made her what she is. She has worked to recreate her identity as well. Language In this play and in British society at large, language is closely tied with class. From a person's accent, one can determine where the person comes from and usually what the person's socioeconomic background is. Because accents are not very malleable, poor people are marked as poor for life. Higgins's teachings are somewhat radical in that they disrupt this social marker, allowing for greater social mobility. Professionalism At the time that this play was written, the idea of female professionals was somewhat new. Aside from the profession of prostitution, women were generally housewives before this period, and there is some residual resistance to the idea of normally male professions being entered by females in the play. Moreover, Pickering is initially horrified by the idea of Eliza opening a flower shop, since being involved in a trade was a mark of belonging to the lower class. Pickering is shaken similarly after his experience of watching Eliza fool everyone at a garden and dinner party, saying that she played her part almost too well. The idea of a professional female socialite is somehow threatening to him. Gender Solidarity or Antagonism Although British society is supposed to break down along class lines, Shaw makes a point of highlighting gender loyalties in this play. Although Mrs. Higgins initially is horrified by the idea

27 that her son might bring a flower-girl into her home, she quickly grows sympathetic to Liza. As a woman, she is the first to express a concern for what will be done with the girl after the experiment--the idea that her training makes her highly unmarriageable by anyone anywhere on the social scale. When Liza runs away from Wimpole St., she instinctively knows that Mrs. Higgins will take good care of her. Higgins's mother sides with Liza before even her son, not revealing that Liza is in the house while Higgins is dialing the police. In contrast, relations between people of opposite genders are generally portrayed by Shaw as antagonistic. Higgins and his mother have a troubled relationship, as do the professor and Mrs. Pearce. Freddy and Liza get along better perhaps only due to his more passive, feminine demeanor.

Act I It is raining in Covent Garden at 11:15 p.m. Clara complains that Freddy has not found a cab yet. Freddy returns to his mother and sister and explains that there are no cabs to be found. They chide him, and as he runs off to try again to find a cab, he knocks intoLiza, a flower girl, spilling her flowers into the mud. Freddy's mother gives her sixpence when she complains that her flowers are ruined. Colonel Pickering comes onstage, and Liza tries to sell him a flower. He gives her three hapence. A bystander advises Liza to give Pickering a flower for it, because there is a man behind a pillar taking down every word that she says.

Liza becomes hysterical, claiming that she has done nothing wrong. She thinks that he is an informant for the police. The man, Higgins, shows Liza what he has written--which is not a record of possible misdeeds. When she complains that she cannot read it, he reads it out to her, reproducing what she has said in her exact accent. Higgins amuses the small crowd that has gathered when he listens to what they say and guesses their hometowns with exactitude. Higgins whistles for a taxi for Clara and her mother, and they exit. Liza picks her flowers out of the mud while Higgins explains to Pickering that he is able to guess where people are from because he studies phonetics. To make money, he gives lessons to millionaires to improve their English, which allows them to be accepted in higher social milieus. When Higgins finds out that Pickering has been in India and is the writer of [I]Spoken Sanskrit, he exclaims that he was planning to travel to India to meet the man. Pickering is equally excited when he realizes that he has happened upon the creator of "Higgins's Universal Alphabet"--for he has traveled from India to meet Higgins. They arrange to have dinner together. Liza makes a last-ditch effort to sell Pickering some flowers, claiming that she is short for her rent. Having recorded what she was saying, Higgins points out that she cannot be short for her rent because she said she had change for half a crown. (His record traps her in her own words after all.) Liza flings her basket at him in desperation. Higgins hears a church bell tolling and generously fills her basket with money anyway, before leaving with Pickering. Freddy arrives in a cab, looking for his mother and sister. He does not know what to do with the cab when he realizes that they have left already, but Liza wants to take the cab home. The cabman looks doubtful at her ragged appearance, but she shows him her money before she gets in. Analysis Besides introducing the major characters of the play, this act introduces socioeconomic class as a central theme of Pygmalion. As a socialist, Shaw was particularly concerned with exploring and exposing the power divide between the poor and the rich. By setting the play in London, Shaw chooses to deal with a society that is particularly stratified. British classconsciousness is based not only on economic power, as it is in many other societies, but also on history (historic class differences). The play highlights British people's recognition of

28 accents to differentiate among themselves not only geographically (a Welsh accent is distinct from a Scottish accent, which is distinct from a Surrey accent), but also to distinguish (on another but related dimension of accents) the various social classes. Higgins's ability to pinpoint the location of origin of members of the crowd means not only that he can tell what part of England, or even what neighborhood of London, they are from, but also that he can probably guess fairly easily their socioeconomic status. In the early twentieth century, social mobility in Britain was slim to none, so the fact that Pickering's accent is audibly a Cambridge one (tying him to a very upper-class university) means that he is upperclass and likely to remain so. Conversely, Liza was born into Lisson Grove and, correspondingly, grew up speaking with what was considered a terrible accent. She is thus likely to remain poor not only because her family was poor, but also because everyone else can tell that she had a poor upbringing from the way that she speaks. Nevertheless, Higgins's system of teaching better English serves to undermine the system in which his keen awareness of language so easily has allowed him to participate. Higgins, like Shaw, sees the strict hierarchy of British society as mutable after all. Higgins's alphabet is a new type of shorthand which more accurately conveys the exact sound of the speaker's voice. So, while normal shorthand conveys the content of a conversation, Higgins's form also records the intonation and accent of a speaker's voice. Even the name of his system of shorthand writing, "Higgins's Universal Alphabet," not only indicates that it reproduces all the sounds of language, but also implies that he believes that everyone should have access to elevated language.

Act II The next day at 11:00 a.m., Higgins and Pickering are at Higgins's place on Wimpole Street. Higgins has just shown Pickering his Universal Alphabet, and they are about to break for lunch when Mrs. Pearce shows Liza in. She has cleaned up somewhat and wants it to be known that she arrived in a cab. She wants to take language lessons from Higgins, and she offers to pay him back some of the money that he threw into her basket the night before in exchange. She also implies that he was drunk when he gave her the money. Ultimately, she wants to work in a flower shop, which requires that her accent become more genteel. The idea of teaching someone like Liza grows on Higgins, especially after Pickering bets him he could not pass her off as a lady at the Ambassador's Ball in six months. Pickering offers to pay the full costs of the experiment, having Liza live in the house to become a full-time pupil. Mrs. Pearce protests that the arrangement would be improper. She urges Liza to go home to her parents, but Liza replies that her parents turned her out of their home once she was old enough to make a living. Pickering protests that the girl might have some feelings, but Higgins claims that she has none at all. Liza attempts to leave, but Higgins offers her a chocolate. As a claim of good faith and to settle her fear that it is poisoned, he cuts it in half, eats one half, and gives her the other. He says that if she is a successful student, he will give her some money to start life as a shop lady. She accepts. She is hustled away by Mrs. Pearce to be given a bath. Pickering asks Higgins if he is to be trusted around women, and Higgins expresses incredulity at the idea of being attracted to Liza. Pickering feels assured of his honorable intentions. Mrs. Pearce reenters the room and makes Higgins promise to act as a role model for Liza by not swearing. The training is to be about culture and manners rather than language alone. Liza's father, Alfred Doolittle, arrives at the house. Higgins amazes Alfred by immediately guessing that his mother was Welsh. Undeterred, Alfred claims that he wants his daughter back. Higgins says that she is upstairs and that her father may have her at once. Alfred, taken aback, says that Higgins is taking advantage of him. Higgins claims the reverse, arguing that Alfred is trying to blackmail him. Higgins says that Alfred sent Liza there on purpose. Alfred claims that he has not even asked for money yet, saying that he only found out where Liza was because she took the son of her landlady for a ride in the cab on the way over to Higgins's house. He stayed around hoping to get a ride home, and she sent him to get her luggage when she decided to stay at Higgins's house. The boy reported to Alfred that she

29 only wanted her luggage, but not to bother with any clothes. Alfred says that this report naturally made him anxious as a father. Higgins, seeing that Alfred has brought his daughter her luggage, asks him why he would do that if he wanted to bring Liza back home. In not too subtle language, Alfred says that he does not mind if Liza becomes Higgins's prostitute so long as he gets some money out of it, too. He asks for five pounds. He adds that his life is very hard because he is one of the "undeserving poor." Higgins, who finds this character delightful, offers him ten pounds, but Alfred takes only five, saying that ten is too much and might make him feel so prudent that he would want to save the money. Five pounds is just enough for a spree for himself and his "missus." Pickering says that he should marry his missus. Alfred replies that he is willing, but the missus likes being unmarried because it means that he has to be nicer to her and give her presents. Liza enters wearing a stylish Japanese kimono, now that she is clean from her bath. She asks her father if he recognizes her, and Pickering and Higgins express surprise that she has cleaned up so well. Higgins invites Alfred to come back, saying that he would like his brother the clergyman to talk with him. Alfred makes a quick escape, however, and Higgins explains to Eliza that he said that so that her father would not return anytime soon. Mrs. Pearce announces that the new clothes have come for Eliza to try on, and she rushes out excitedly. Pickering and Higgins remark about how difficult their job will be. Analysis Despite the somewhat pathetic figure that she cuts initially, Liza's goal is admirable. She longs for that which is precisely so difficult in British society: self-improvement. In this act, Mrs. Pearce is the foil for Liza; she represents propriety and morality. Mrs. Pearce is duly shocked at Liza's wish to attain a higher social class. The American motif of success and class mobility through individual hard work is not part of Mrs. Pearce's cultural inheritance. Shaw is at pains in this act to show that Eliza does not enter into the deal willingly. Rather, she is manipulated into participating in the experiment by Higgins's chocolates, plus his promises to her that she will get married or own a flower shop if she does what he says. His offer is one that she can hardly refuse in order to get what she wants. Shaw, who is often read as a feminist playwright, sets Eliza up as a victim of the two older, better educated men, who take up Eliza's case as a challenge rather than a humanitarian endeavor. This situation gives emotional weight to her later anger against them. The appearance of Eliza's father in this act is quite important, because we realize just how rough a background Eliza comes from. She is an illegitimate child whose father is a dustman willing to pimp his daughter. Doolittle, whose name is a pun on the fact that he hardly works, defines himself explicitly as a member of the undeserving poor. Despite the humor that arises when Doolittle explains that he is no less deserving than a widow who collects from a number of different funds for the death of the same husband, the man's joke holds a grain of truth. As a socialist, Shaw was concerned with all of the poor, not just the working or bereaved poor.

Act III A few months later, Higgins's mother (Mrs. Higgins) is writing letters in her drawing room when she is interrupted by her son. She scolds him for turning up during her "at-home day," the day when she receives guests. Mrs. Higgins claims that her son scares off her guests. Higgins explains his bet with Pickering over Eliza and says that she is coming to the house to try out her accent. Mrs. and Miss Eynsford Hill are shown in, and they are the same mother and daughter who were waiting for a cab at the beginning of the play. Higgins recognizes them, but he cannot figure out where he has seen them before. Freddy also arrives. Miss Eynsford Hill tries to flirt with Mr. Higgins, but he rails at the company (including himself) for having no knowledge of science, philosophy, or poetry--merely knowing how to act in society.

30 Eliza is shown in, exquisitely dressed, and she makes quite an impression. In fact, Freddy falls in love with her. Mr. Higgins realizes that they all met on that day at Covent Garden, but nobody else makes the connection. Eliza, who has been warned to limit her conversation to the weather and to people's health, talks about an aunt of hers who supposedly died of influenza but who was perhaps killed so that the killer might steal her new straw hat. Mr. Higgins grows alarmed, and Eliza leaves, but the Eynsford Hills think that by talking about coarse subjects and swearing, Eliza was using a new, fashionable type of slang. Pickering tries to support this assumption by declaring that he can no longer distinguish high society from a ship's forecastle now that people swear so often. Clara declares the "new slang" charming--and to her mother's horror, she herself uses the British curse word "bloody." Mrs. Higgins invites the smitten Freddy back to spend more time with Eliza. The Eynsford Hills exit. Mrs. Higgins scolds the men, declaring that their project with Eliza, while clever, cannot work because no skill in pronunciation or fancy dresses can change the subject matter of what Eliza talks about. The content will trump the style; she will always give herself away. Like Mrs. Pearce, she also disapproves of the fact that Eliza lives in the house with the two men. Moreover, she complains that Pickering and Higgins are treating her like a "live doll." The men protest that they take Eliza very seriously and are quite taken with her talents, including the fact that she has a wonderful ear and has taught herself to play the piano. Mrs. Higgins reminds them of the problem they have not yet faced--what to do with Eliza after the experiment is over--and the men reply that they will set her up in some sort of genteel occupation. They exit, talking about how they will take Eliza to a Shakespeare exhibition and then have her mimic all of the people there when they get home. Mrs. Higgins resumes writing letters and exclaims, "men!!" with exasperation. Analysis In this act we witness the transformation of Liza the flower-girl into Eliza the society lady. The change caused by repackaging her in new clothing and providing her with a new accent is so complete that she goes unrecognized by people who have seen her in her former state. Even the rough content of her conversation does not reveal her class, despite the concerns of the people who know to look out for such content. The fact that Freddy becomes instantly smitten with her emphasizes the concept of infatuation on the basis of external characteristics. He barely noticed her when she was a flower-girl, but the change in her looks and her talk has made her infinitely more attractive to him. These characteristics make her seem to be of a class much higher than before. The location makes a difference, too; what would a girl like Liza be doing in such a respectable home? Furthermore, the fact that the other characters play her as a cultured woman makes it harder for the visitors to become suspicious. Act III also brings a sobering touch of realism back to the play. Standing alone, the bet between Pickering and Higgins seems amusing, worthwhile on humanitarian grounds, and intellectually and practically challenging. Taken in the context of society more generally, a stance which Mrs. Higgins emphasizes, the process is potentially dangerous. The primary function of genteel ladies at this time was to secure a safe and lucrative marriage for themselves, a fact of which we are reminded as Clara eyes Higgins. She views him as marriageable not because she loves him, but because she has calculated thatshe would be a "good catch" monetarily and in terms of his position in society. Eliza has already been made dangerous, however, because she exists outside of this market. Because of her background and lack of pedigree, she is unmarriageable, no matter how charming she may seem. Changing her accent and manner of dress ultimately will cause confusion because it will come out that she is taking part in a slice of society of which she cannot become fully a partFreddy will only be disappointed. Mrs. Higgins puts it bluntly when she complains that Higgins has given Eliza the "manners and habits which disqualify a fine lady from earning her living without giving her a fine lady's income." The change of setting from the isolated Wimpole Street laboratory into a "society house" makes this shift even starker. Eliza is becoming too good for her old society, and she is not yet good enough for her new society. This gap in the

31 experiment is troublesome, and something must be done about it. It is not clear, however, that the men are fully aware of the problem or that they have a viable solution.

Act IV At midnight on Wimpole Street, Eliza enters looking pale and tired, almost tragic. Pickering and Higgins ignore Eliza, talking about where Higgins's slippers are and whether there is any mail. They have been to a garden party, a dinner party, and the opera, and Eliza was extremely successful, fooling everyone. Higgins expresses his contempt for society and says that he is glad that the experiment is over, since he was beginning to grow tired of it. Pickering says that it is almost scary how good at it all Eliza is-she is better than the society ladies. Eliza, who has gone to find Higgins's slippers, begins to look angry, then murderous. Higgins leaves, asking Eliza to turn off the light and to askMrs. Pearce to make coffee in the morning. Higgins returns, looking for his slippers again, and Eliza throws them at him. Eliza angrily explains that she does not know what to do with herself, now that she has won the bet. Higgins says that she is overreacting. He tells her that after she sleeps she will feel better. He adds that she is quite attractive, so maybe she could marry after all-perhaps his mother could find someone genteel for her to marry. Eliza responds that she was above selling herself when she was a working-class woman; she merely sold flowers instead of her body. Higgins replies that her moral judgment against marriage is unfair. Eliza asks whether her clothes belong to her or Pickering, since he is the one who bought them. Higgins replies that of course they belong to her. When she protests that she did not want to be accused of stealing them, he is hurt. (She has not forgotten her roots in poverty.) He says that that her comment shows a want of feeling. Eliza pushes her advantage, asking him to take the hired jewels to his room so that they will be safe. Higgins exclaims that he would shove them down her throat if only he would not have to return them to the jeweler. Eliza also gives Higgins back a ring that he bought her, a piece of jewerly that was not borrowed. He angrily throws it into the fireplace and says that she has "wounded him to the heart." Eliza is glad to get "a little of her own back." Higgins tries to regain his dignity, saying that he has lost his temper for the first time in a long time. He leaves the room in a controlled manner, but he slams the door on the way out. Eliza smiles, imitates his accent in a wild manner, and gets down on her knees to look in the ashes for the ring. Analysis In this pivotal act, the relationship between Eliza and Higgins finally explodes. It is revealed that there has been a deeper feeling between them, and the fact that he has given her a ring certainly suggests a promise of marriage. This act also expresses Shaw's deepest condemnation of society, which is fleshed out more fully in Mrs. Warren's profession; that is, he puts in Eliza's words the idea that societal marriage is nothing better than the exchange of sex for money like what one sees among prostitutes. Eliza, if not also Shaw, views the upperclass marriage market as more degraded than her previous profession of selling flowers. From a class perspective, at least, her opinion expresses Shaw's deep socialism, supporting the claim that the working classes can and often do have more dignity than the hypocritical segments of the upper class. Act Four also reveals an interesting power dynamic between Eliza and Higgins. Eliza most greatly resents the fact that Higgins views her success as his own, and she is infuriated by his idea that (like the mythological Pygmalion) he is the agent who created her. She views this claim as presumptuous and dehumanizing. Although by questioning Higgins about the jewelry she reminds him of the gap in class between them, she succeeds in making him angry. The ability to affect someone who holds himself maddeningly superior to her heartens her-she is glad to get "some of her own back" in this way. The relationship between the two now includes Eliza's pleasure at being able to hurt Higgins. Eliza's actions at the end of the act remind the audience of the very real dilemma facing Eliza: what is she to do-stay or go? She mimicks Higgins, pleased that she has effectively gotten

32 him angry, but she then begins to search, almost compulsively, for the ring that she has just discarded. This juxtaposition demonstrates that she still has feelings for Higgins, being not yet ready to throw away the sentimental token that he gave her. Searching for the ring also suggests an economic prudence on Eliza's part; her future is very unclear.

Act V Mrs. Higgins is in her drawing room when her parlor-maid enters and informs her that Pickering and Higgins are downstairs calling the police. Mrs. Higgins sends the parlor-maid upstairs to inform Eliza that the men are here and that she should not come until she is called. Higgins enters and explains that he is frantic that Eliza has left-he cannot find anything and now has nobody to remind him of his appointments. Mrs. Higgins scolds her son for calling the police as if Eliza were a lost parcel.

The parlor-maid announces Mr. Doolittle, who enters in a fancy waistcoat. Doolittle claims that Higgins has ruined his happiness. Higgins says that this is impossible because he only gave him a small amount of money, and because he has had only two conversations with him since the first one. Doolittle explains that Higgins wrote a letter to a man named Ezra D. Wannafeller saying that Doolittle was the most original moralist in England, and the man died and left his millions to Doolittle-partially to show that the Americans do not regard class in the same way that the English do. Doolittle says that he is miserable after being made a gentleman: everybody asks him for money, and he does not have the nerve to forsake his new wealth and station. Mrs. Higgins says that at least he now can provide for his daughter. Higgins objects to this idea, saying that he bought her for five pounds. Mrs. Higgins reveals that Eliza is upstairs, having come upset very early in the morning. Mrs. Higgins censures them for not admiring Eliza or telling her she did a good job. When Eliza comes down, she looks self-possessed and very much at home. She uses the genteel accents that Higgins has taught her. Higgins is furious and claims that he has made her what she is. Pickering assures Eliza that he does not think of her as just an experiment, and she expresses her gratitude to him for everything, especially for teaching manners to her. She adds pointedly says that Higgins could not have taught her such manners. Eliza says that the difference between a lady and a flower-girl is not in anything that she does but in how she is treated. Pickering always treated her like a lady, whereas Higgins has treated her like dirt. Higgins claims in response that he treats everyone like dirt. Doolittle tells his daughter that he is marrying her mother. Doolittle is nervous, and he asks Pickering to come to help see him through the wedding. Mrs. Higgins decides to go as well, leaving Higgins and Eliza alone. Eliza says that she will not come back because Higgins only wants her to pick up his slippers and the like. Higgins says that he cannot change his own manners, but at least he is democratic: again, he says he treats everyone as if they were of the lower class. Eliza says that she shall not be passed over and that she can do without Higgins. Higgins says that he needs to determine if he can do without her, since he has grown accustomed to having her around. Eliza claims that he should not have taught her anything because it only leads to trouble, but Higgins claims that all creation leads to trouble. Eliza says that she is holding out for something more, adding that Freddy is infatuated with her and writes her letters every day. She says that she participated in the experiment because she had come to care for Higgins, and all she wanted was a little kindness. She had not forgotten the social and economic gaps between them. Higgins idealizes the lower-class life, saying that you work until you are inhuman, then you squabble or make love or drink until you fall asleep. He also says that Eliza needs too much attention. She says that to assert her independence she will marry Freddy or become a teacher of phonetics. He finds her spirit to be attractive and says that she is no longer a woman but a tower of strength. He suggests that she live with him and Colonel Pickering, the three of them together as bachelors.

33 Mrs. Higgins returns dressed for the wedding, and she takes Eliza with her. Higgins asks her to run his errands for him, including one to buy some cheese and ham. She says a final goodbye to him, and he seems confident that she will follow his command. The onstage drama ends, and Shaw adds, in an epilogue, that Eliza recognizes Higgins as predestined to be a bachelor-and that she marries Freddy instead. (This was somewhat of a scandal, but the fact that Eliza's father had become a social success made it less hard on the Eynsford Hills.) With a gift from Colonel Pickering, Eliza opens up a flower shop. The only person truly bothered by this state of affairs is Clara, who figures that the marriage will not help her own marriage prospects. But Clara began to read H.G. Wells and travel in the circles of his fans, and she decides to begin working in a furniture shop herself in the hopes that she might meet Wells (because the woman who owns the shop is also a fan of his). Freddy is not very practical, and he and Eliza have to take classes in bookkeeping to make their business a success. But they do make it a success, and they live a fairly comfortable life. Analysis The mythological themes that give the title to this play are at their strongest in this act. The audience learns conclusively that Higgins truly views himself as Eliza's creator. Shaw sets up a strange, almost Freudian symmetry between Higgins and his mother on the one hand and Eliza and her father on the other. Higgins gives one of his reasons for never marrying as his too great respect for his mother. Her love of beauty, art, and philosophy has led her son to value Milton's poetry and his own universal alphabet more highly than he could a relationship with a woman. From Eliza's perspective, Higgins seems too much like her father in that neither of them really need her. Eliza genuinely cares about Higgins and is stung by the idea that he needs her no more than he needs his slippers. This represents the same sort of nonchalance with which Doolittle sells his only daughter in Act II for a five-pound note. Paternal relations and romantic relations, should be stronger than this. But Higgins's respect for his mother seems to interfere with his own life. Shaw's description of the final state of affairs shows an interesting perspective on love. Freddy was infatuated with Eliza and remains so, but it is unclear what her feelings are towards him. She certainly likes him, but she continues to feel the most passionately (mostly in anger) about Higgins. She wishes that she could get him on a "desert island" just to see him make love like any other man-but this remains a private fantasy which Shaw dismisses as ultimately unimportant. The social mores of the characters tend to favor balanced and practical love over passionate, romantic love. Despite the fact that Shaw moved away from Ireland at a young age, he is a quintessentially Irish writer. (See, for instance, John Bull's Other Island Show.) Read in the light of the imperial relationship between England and Ireland, Eliza's final declaration of independence might have a political connotation, especially since language and location have been intertwined from the beginning. The fact that the English forced their language on the Gaelic-speaking Irish, after invading Ireland, has particular bearing on this play, where we witness a male forcibly teaching a female to speak. (One might consider the possibility of similar themes of colonization and intrusion that involve reshaping language in Shakespeare's (otherwise very different play) The Tempest and, much later, Beckett's Endgame.) Like Shakespeare's Caliban, Eliza may see a significant benefit of her newly-acquired language as the ability to curse her "master" with fluency. And Ireland (like many countries) is feminized in the Irish popular imagination, represented by female names like Erin and "Kathleen Ni Houlihan," while in colonial narratives the conqueror is usually portrayed as male. Pygmalion was produced only four years before the 1916 Easter Uprising, and Eliza's demand for self-determination, after rising into her own social maturity, may reflect the Irish nationalist cause.

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