220 Park Street
New Haven, Conn.
February 27, 1941

Mrs. A.P.Wilder
Deepwood Drive
New Haven, Conn.

Dear Mrs. Wilder:

I am enclosing a copy of the article which I am sending
this Sunday in the mails to the New York Times for release on the
following Sunday, March 9. It is, as nearly as possible, what your
son so graciously dictated to me the afternoon he came to Albertus.

I have shown the article to Mr. Sedgwick and followed
his criticism. The matter of Mr. Wilder going on the good will
tour was, I felt, no longer confidential since the New Haven
Register had printed this fact in the Birchman write-up (which I
am enclosing) the Sunday before our interview. However, as Mr.
Wilder suggested, I have withheld all the dicta of our conversation.

I realize how kind you were to have arranged for me to
meet your son. The experience of speaking with the man whom I have
admired since I read "The Angel that Troubled the Waters" is one
which I shall never forget. In order to begin to do justice to
such a truly great man, I have spent many hours on these five
brief pages. If I have failed, it will not be because I did not
comprehend the importance of Mr. Wilder's words and personality,
but rather that I was incapable of transferring them to paper.

3.

Since Robert Sherwood, as playwright and lecturer propagandist for the democratic cause, best typified the "practical worker", did Mr. Wilder believe that the results of his provocative pen, notably "There Shall Be No Night" had any value beyond its propagandist appeal?

"Do not forget that there is good propaganda, as well as bad," he admonished. "Bob Sherwood is doing a remarkable work. Many of us all over the country have received letters from him pleading his case. And I do believe his work will in time have its place in dramatic achievement."

With great modestness, this former school master added that he did not believe that he could do this same kind of work. These words seemed to imply a determination similar to that of the Women of Andros who knew that she could never learn the art of living until it was almost too late:

"But I am to be on this earth for fifty years and I must do it."

The whole person of the dramatist brightened up as the conversation turned from himself to a subject about which he could really become excited- the American theater. Arms that had been tensely folded were extended to make expressive flourishes. Jet-black eyebrows to which only a Saroyan could do justice, rose expectantly over the tortoise-rimmed glasses.

"How do you think the war will affect our drama?" was asked.

"The immediate affect of a war is to encourage people to seek more diversion and distraction in the theater."

were

These first words were spoken in high tones. As the sentences followed the enthusiasm of the speaker became more controlled.

4.

"Only after a lag of a certain number of years do the results appear in literature of both the tension of nerves, on the one hand, (illustrated by the unprecedented cult of such morbid works as Wedekind and Strindberg in Germany through the early twenties,) and the real extension of earnestness and vital fancy on the other, (more easily illustrated by the French theater in the thirties.)"

"Parentheses closed, unquote," finished Mr. Wilder. The interviewer thought: God's gift to the Fourth Estate, a man totally unsuspicious of direct quotation. In fact, the author-playwright had suggested dictation and then took pains to carefully punctuate.

The tempest in the Broadway teapot which a similar remark in the February issue of "Theater Arts Monthly" had set to brew was brought to a vigorous boil by the next reply. In that periodical the 44-year old dramatist had declined to name any suggestions for an ideal national theater on the grounds that truly excellent directing, the most essential need of any theater in a period of transition, was lacking.

"Who, do I believe are the most important figures in the United States theater world today?" he echoed.

"We have many great actors, stage designers, dramatists, and one excellent director."

(This is Jed Harris, he explained.)

"But if one concedes the theater includes all the activities in which people gather together to follow the unfolding of an action, I have no hesitation in saying that the only two great figures are Charlie Chaplin and Walt Disney. One has only to stand at the door of the auditoriums from which audiences are emerging to be aware of the particular elation of imaginations that have really been lifted out of themselves and unreservedly been filled with a vitalizing image. From other entertainments, however admirable,

5.

cultural and expressive, one hears only an audience figuratively
putting on its overshoes to go home. The former have been to 'theater';
the latter have been to 'entertainment,' or exercises in culture."

The corners of the speaker's eyes wrinkled up as the last three
words were uttered.

The man who had been writing one-act plays as a Yale undergraduate
finally had this to say of the affect of the European refugees on
the American theater:

"Yes, there will be this influence, but not so much that we will
imitate such directors and artists, however great, that have
come among us, as through mere presence of parallel stimulation.
I feel that the Americans have now acquired their own particular
sense of time, of humor, of pathos, of what is impressive and what
is absurd. With the result that the Americans must now forge their
entertainment values in a realm where the great Europeans cannot
collaborate, but, who working in their own language and thought
world, can produce examples of excellence to stimulate us,--which is,
after all, the highest kind of influence."

Was Mr. Wilder writing another play? Yes, it was almost finished.
The reporter wondered what it concerned, but it was time for the
missioner of goodwill to keep his appointment with the Peruvian who
was tutoring him. The playwright confided that he was studying the
eight hours a day to gain fluency in the Latin American tongue.
But the interviewers remembering that Wilder had never been to Lima
when he wrote "The Bridge," felt that the Pulitzer prize-winner did
not need to rely too strongly on language for understanding.

"Oh, but occasionally 'woppers' do turn up," apologized the writer.
"You know, you can't see the sea from Lima."