This Wednesday, February 1st, Carol will be presenting on George Bernard Shaw in the Orr Room of the Hastings-on-Hudson Public Library. As per all our matinees, the doors will be open at 12:30pm and the pre-curtain discussion will begin promptly at 1pm.
Where does one begin with George Bernard Shaw??? There's the fact that there seems to be a relevant Bernard Shaw quote for every occasion, such as:
"Beware of false knowledge; it is more dangerous than ignorance."And, since these reminders ARE all about ME, I have to mention my first live performance of Bernard Shaw in 1974 – Diana Rigg and Alec McCowen in Pygmalion. Sigh. I remember it vividly. We were sitting quite close and to the left, and I just remember looking up at Diana Rigg – how long and beautiful she was, the palpable charisma of Alec McGowen, the humor of the language, and, of course, the indignation and confusion I left with since it doesn't end the way the musical does! Where was the romance I was infusing into every line and action???!!! That's the power of the theatre – to be left with such intense memories, even after 48+ years.
"Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything."
It is certain to be another wonderful afternoon of drama this Wednesday. I look forward to seeing you all! Until then, Jacquie
Christine's Minutes On the first day of February (rabbit, rabbit), thirteen members of the Literature Club met, yet again, in the Orr Room. (If you are tired of hearing this venue in the minutes, consider how tired I must be repeating it every fortnight. How I long for the opportunity to describe a member’s rococo living room and wax eloquent about a certain member’s cold salmon...) But do not despair: we were greeted by the marvelous Shavian costume of our presenter. There, in front of the rather serene Hudson River, was Carol Barkin, in a flared skirt, a velvet embroidered wine-red jacket, over a classic ruffled poet blouse complete with ruffled cuffs. This perfect ensemble was topped with a straw hat beribboned with a flowered scarf. She did Eliza Doolittle proud.
President Constance rang the bell at 1 pm sharp. The minutes were read and accepted. Lori reported that our treasury remains at $129.50. Via Zoom, Diana introduced her mother, who is joining us from Mississippi, where Diana is visiting.
Recollected by the clear view of the iconic Hastings’ own water tower, Christine mentioned seeing an exhibition of Bernd and Hilla Berner’s photographs this past week at SF MOMA. The German husband and wife photographed industrial structures, focusing solely on their shapes, and the images are compelling and magical. Kathy mentioned seeing the show at the Met last year, and also loving it.
Speaking of magical, Joanna saw Orlando last week, in London, with Emma Corrin, who identifies as non-binary, most aptly cast as Orlando, themself.
Then the curtain rises, and we enter the world of George Bernard Shaw.
Carol began by explaining why she had chosen to dress as Eliza rather than Shaw himself: George was 6’4”, rail thin and sported a large red beard. (Unlike Carol.) And he generally wore plus-fours (a style made popular by Prince of Wales before he was Edward VII, an article of clothing Carol does not have in her closet.)
Shaw has been an interest of Carol’s since she saw Saint Joan with Joan Plowright, on the London stage. Then in college she saw The Devil’s Disciple, and she was hooked. She wrote her senior thesis on George Bernard Shaw.
George Bernard Shaw was born in Dublin in 1856. His father was an alcoholic businessman; his mother Lucinda “Bessie” Shaw, came from a wealthy family, but little of that money came to the Shaws. She was a beautiful singer and neglected young GB Shaw, who suffered as a result. Bessie’s singing teacher, George Lee, with whom she had been involved before Shaw was born, also lived with them. In the same house. Shaw suspected that this other George was his biological father, but it was never proved. Between the ages of 9 and 15, Shaw attended four different schools, and hated them all. So, he left school for good, worked in real estate (perhaps good fodder: exposure to many human frailties and foibles), moved to London and spent hours educating himself at the British Museum Reading Room – the safe haven and the petri dish of so many great and not great English writers. Around this time, he became a vegetarian, largely for financial reasons.
In the mid-1880’s, Shaw became a socialist and joined the Fabian Society. Founded by Thomas Davidson, it was becoming England’s most important intellectual organization, and Shaw was its most prominent pamphleteer. Shaw was also writing novels, and reviewing music and theatre. He reviled melodrama and admired Ibsen. Biographers write that Shaw was a pioneer of “intelligent” theatre, in that he asked his audiences to think.
Shaw was 38 in 1894, when Arms and the Man was produced. It was a greater success with the public than with the critics, and it made enough money that he was able to stop writing reviews. The Devil’s Disciple was his first big success in New York.
He was 40 when he met Charlotte Payne-Townsend at the Webbs’ country house. In his first letter to her, he advised her to not fall in love. Naturally, they were married the next year. It was not a perfectly happy marriage.
With the twentieth century came several critical and popular successes for Shaw: Major Barbara, The Doctor’s Dilemma, Caesar and Cleopatra, Major Barbara. In 1914, he wrote a pacifist pamphlet, arguing that both sides were at fault for the war, and this proceeded to make him rather unpopular in a time of rah-rah patriotism. Still, it could not go unnoticed that Shaw was good at writing propaganda, and in 1917 the government sent him to the Western Front. His report described the solders’ lives and the human cost of war and was well-received.
After only 500 years of dithering, defensive sophistry and petty politics, the Catholic Church canonized Joan of Arc in 1920, prompting Shaw to write his masterpiece, Saint Joan, in 1923. He was awarded the 1925 Nobel Prize in Literature; the citation notes his “idealism and humanity.” He spent the next four years writing his magnum opus, The Intelligent Woman’s Guide to Socialism and Capitalism, which went on to become a best-seller. It is still in print and selling. (Your secretary still has her grandmother’s 1928 copy, much underlined.)
Shaw continued to care deeply about politics, but lost faith in Fabian-style change. In the early 30s he wrote favorably of both Mussolini and Hitler, but still his plays got produced. His 1938 screenplay for Pygmalion won an Academy Award. When Charlotte died in 1943, he was surprised by how much he missed her. He lived on quietly in Hertfordshire, and died at 94 from complications suffered in a fall while pruning a tree.
Shaw wrote about a wide range of subjects, and often used humor to great effect. He had a way of getting his audiences to see things anew, from a different angle.
Aided by Carol’s brilliant bib/nametags for the characters (soon to be a Literature Club prop staple) members read two scenes from The Devil’s Disciple, and three scenes from Pygmalion. Carol explained Shaw’s preference for his ending, the ‘real’ ending, in which Eliza marries Freddy and not Higgins. Thankfully, he never saw Hollywood’s My Fair Lady. The plays continue to give much pleasure, and also much to think about.
Respectfully submitted,
Christine Lehner, Recording Secretary
Photo: The Hastings Water Tower, published in The Buzzer, the newspaper of Hastings High School on March 23, 2021.
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