The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1909-05-16
n rae DRAMArrsf.

-
The early death II . lyric poet 10 not q
loss without compensation, for birds sing
sweetest when young; but with q dramatic
poet the case 10 altered. Perhaps Keats
and Shelley would have given the world
prosounder music, music with foundational
h~armoniee; We are rida with the legaciea
they left. The deathO OF Schubert and
Chopin may not have been, for the same
reason, such irreparable misfortunes
The disappearance Of John M. Synge
from the map OF life ten years ago
would have spelled nothing to the
world, his death ten years hence might
have found US In possession OF half a
dozen greater plays than the slim sheaf
Of six he left US when he passed away q
few weeks ago at Dublin. 4 drematis.
must know life as we'll az art: those little
mirrors Of sincerity which are the heart
Of the lyrioist must In q play mirror the
life exterior before they can stir US 70 the
core. Life, life felt and seen and sung,
these are the true arohiteotonics Of great
drama; all the rest In stagecraft. Now
John Synge was a poet who spoke in clear.
rich fbred prose. The eternal vdnderlust
that was in men like Bamfylde, Moore,
Carew and George Borrow also stung the
blood Of synge. He had the gypsy scholar
temperament. He went about France
and Germany, and In his beloved Aran
Islands his fiddle was the friend OF the
half wild ~peasantry He was not 80
when he died, yet he left behind him the
sound Of his voice, the voice Of a large.
save ,a,l HoxI Aha oa,,l ~ - lroo MAR md
the man Of action who Is the dramatfst.
His taking of before his prime means
much to Irish literature, though happily
bis few plays suffice for the conservation
OF his genius.
The chemistry which transmitted eI-
perience into art will doubtless be ana
lyzed by his future biographers. His
life was simple- simplicity was the key
note OF tho man. He loved literature,
but he loved life better. He was not OF
the deoadent temperament; he was too
robust Of body and spirit to be melan.
choly. O did he ever. or the absinthe
slopes Of Montmartre, grasp for the lau-
rels Of the 4moderns.- His friend Will
lam Butler Yeats has written: 'Syngs
vas essentially an orderly man with I'M
limited indulgence for the disorderly.'
He did contemplate q career devoted TO
criticism. His ~favorite French writer
was Raoine-we are far removed here
from the decadenoe-but luckily Yeats
persuaded his young oountryman to return
to Ireland. there to write Of the people
and tho land from which he sprang.
Seldom has advice borne better results.
Synge went to the Aran Islands. Oh tho
coast Of Galway. and In a book Of rare
interest and vast naivetA gave US a
series Of pictures that may be on
sidered the primal sketches for his
plays. Though The Aran Islands
was published In 1901 it Ia a record
dating back several years. Over the
Western country he went afoot. living In
the cabins, talking by the wayside with
the old men and the girls. and drawing his
bow for the couples dancing. He loved
the people. and his eye was not the meas
uring eye Of the surgeons we sometimes
call novelists and dramatists.
Synge was neither q symbolist nor q
mar with o message. His symbols are
the sea. the sky and the humans who
lead the hard. bitter lives Of a half ruined
land. bankrupt Of nearly all else except
Its dreams. Your reformer who puts
plays on the stage to prove something
IL only half an artist. no matter his wit OF
the justice Of his cause. Synge knew
better than the witty polemist Bernard
Shaw that the latter's method is a de-
fusion and a snare: Shaw, the ~cleverest
freshman since Oscar Wilde. does not
deal with the rich native material OF his
country. preferring the primrose task
Of making London laugh. Wilde. not
w~ithstanding his remarkable natural
endowments. aIso sold his birth1ght
for a mess Of the same London pottage
Of popularity.
1t Ia not necessary now to speak OF the
exquisite poetic genius Of W. B. Yeats:
nor OF a. E." who IL George W. Russell,
poet and painter-a famelike spirit.
a pantheist who reverences the Mother
Of the Gods with the consuming ardor
Of a Roman Catholic before the image
OF Our Lady. He can sing:
In the dusk silver sweet.
Down the violet scented ways
As moved with quiet feet
was met by mighty days
and we overhear. a. in . murmuring
shell. the music Of Keats. verlaine. and Of
Ireland itself.
But In tho synge plays sweet Cory
meela an the Same soft rain does not
interest him a. do the words Of the head
strong girl by the hedge who wants to
marry tho tinker; or the blind pair of
tramps whose vision returns and with
their sight a hell Of disappointment;
or the passionate woman Of the glen,
whistling for her lover. or the riders to
the sea, soooper Of graves. Human emo
tons, the more elemental the better, are
for Synge the subject matter Of his cameo
carved work. He Is mindful Of technique;
he learned the art in France; he can fash
ion q climax with the beat Of them. There
are no loose ends. His story moves from
the first to the last speech. Eminently
for the footlights, these tiny dramas may
be read without losing their essential
thrill. Beauty and terror within the
frame OF homely speech and homely ac-
tons are never lost sight Of; and what
different men and women are Synge's
when compared to the traditional stage
Irishmen OF Carleton. Lover. Lever.
Boucicault and a hundred others. Yet
the roaring. drinking, love making broth
OF a boy hasn't changed. He may be
found in Synge. but he 10 presented with
out the romantic sentimental twist.
Perhaps the picture may he uniattering.
but it Is a truer picture than the older.
the Playboy Of the Western World"