New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1898-06-01
MR.. SHAW SAYS FARE WE'LL
HIS vALED1croRY AS DRAMATIC CRITIC
IN THE SATURDAY REVIEW"

IN THE SATURDAY REVIEW"
On the publication Of his Plays: Unpleasant
and Pleasant" a collection Of dramatic attempts
TO which extended reference was made IN The
Tribune of last Sunday. Mr.. George Bernard
Shaw became more than ever the object OF jour
nalistic attention in London. simultaneously
with the appearance Of the volumes a report
leaked into print giving the amount Of his fnan-
cial gains az a writer for the stage. American
support Of Arms and the Man" and The
DEVILS Disciple" has evidently enriched him
Would he become q capitalist: Would he seek
comfortable retirement and wr1te more plays?
Would he stand for Parliament? These and
other questions have been asked. To none OF
them does the genial Mr.. Shaw return direct
answer, but Of this much he assures us In the
current number OF 1.-THE Saturday Review"-hs
will write no more dramatic criticism. Mr.. Max
Beerbohm who concludes in the same number
a destructive criticism Of the plays: Unpleas-
ant and Pleasant" begun In the preceding week.
tells the author that he has all the qualities
which go TO the writing Of good farces, that. be-
ing an Irishman. when he writes seriously he Is
always Paddy malgre lui, " and speeds him
amiably upon his career. Mr.. Beerbohm takes
I'D the task Of crtticising tho drama for The
Saturday Review" and Mr.. Shaw. from tho
couch on which he has already celebrated In
characteristic prose the latest OF his Illnesses
composes the following valedictory:
As lie here. helpless and disabled. OF, at best
nailed by foot TO the floor Ike a doomed
Strasburg goose, a sense OF injury grows on me.
For nearly four years-to be precise. since New
Year. 1851 have been the slave OF the theatre.
1t has tethered me to the mile radius OF foul and
sooty air which has its centre in the Strand az
a goat is tethered in the little circle OF cropped
and trampled grass that makes tho meadow
r1o fNr Ito % n n
written words; so that I am like fight
Ing a windmill: have hardly time 10 stagger
to my feet from the knockdown blow OF one sai H.
when the next strikes me down Now ask Ia
It reasonable to expect me to spend my life In
this way? For Just consider my position. DO
receive any spontaneous recognition Tor the
prodigies OF skill and industry lavish on an
unworthy institution and stupid public? Not
q biz OF It: half my time is spent in telling people
what clever man am. 1t is no use merely do
ing clever things In England. The English do
not know what to think until they ara coached.
laboriousy and insistently for years. In the
proper and becoming opinion. For ten years
past, with an unprecedented pertinacity and OBJ
situation. have been dining into the public
head that am an extraordinarily witty. brill
liant and clever man. That is now part OF tho
public opinion of England: and power In
heaven on earth will change It, / may
dodder and dote: may potboil and platitudi
nize I may become the butt and chopping block
of all the bright. original spirits OF the rising
generation; but my reputation shall not suffer;
1t Is built up fast and solid. like Shakespears's
on an impregna BILE basis of dogmatic reiteration
Unfortunately. the building process has been
q most painful one TO me- because | am congen-
italy an extremely modest man. Shyness is tho
form my vanity and self-consciousness take by
nature. 1t Is humating, too. after making tho
most dazzling displays of professional ability to
have 10 tell people how clever It all is. Besides
they get so tired OF It. that finally. without
dreaming Of disputing the alleged brilliancy
frantic letters from people who feel that they
cannot stand me any longer.
Then there are the managers. Are they CRATE
full? No; they are simply forbearing. Instead
Of looking up to me as their guide, philosopher
and friend they regard me merely the author
Of series Of weekly outrages on their profess
sion and their privacy Worse than the mana
gers are the Shakespearans. When began to
write William a divinity and a bore Now
he Is fellow-creature: and his plays have
reached an unprecedented pitch OF popularity
And yet his worshippers overwhelm my name
with insult.
These circumstances win not boar thinking OF.
have never had time 10 think OF them before
but now have nothing else to do When n man
OF normal habits is Ill. every hastens to as
sure him that he is going to recover. When a
Vegetarian Is Ill (Which fortunately very seldom
happens) every one assures him that he Is going
to die. and that they told him So and that fl
serves him right. They implore him to take at
least little gravy 80 as to give himself a
chance OF lasting out the night They tell him
awful stories of just like his own which
ended fatally after indescribabe torrents: and
when he tremblingly inquiries whether the VIC
tins were not hardened meat-eaters they tell
him he must not talk as It is not good for him.
Ten times day am compelled 10 reflect on my
past life. and on the limited prospect Of three
weeks or SO Of lingering moribundity which is
held up 70 me as my probable future, with the
Intensity OF q drowning man. And cnn never
Justify to myself the spending of four years on
dramatic criticism. have sworn an oath to en-
dure no more Of It. Never again will cross the
threshold of q theatre. The subject 10 exhaust
ed; and so am l.
Still the sayety Of nations must not be
eclipsed. The long string OF beautiful ladies who
are at present In the square without awaiting
under the supervision Of two gallant policemen
their turn at my bedside. must be treasured
when they protest, as they will. that the light
OF their life will go out II my dramatic articles
cease. To each Of them will present the flower
left by her predecessor and assure her that there
good Ash In the sea as ever came out of
II. The younger generation il knocking at the
door; and as open 1t there steps spritely in the
Incompatible Max
For the rest, let Max speak for himself. am
OF duty forever. And am going to sleep
G. B. s.