Thornton Wilder
For my Intro to Theatre Arts class, I decided to read as many plays as possible. Jot down the looong bibliography in the back of my college textbook, a quick trip to the library, and now an armload of books. Mainly modern plays, a few classic ones I had read already (Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde!), and some plays that just looked fun.
And I plunged in.
Tennessee Williams ... Arthur Miller ... Moliere... why all these depressing endings? Three hours of reading, and I didn't find one single uplifting play. They all had great ideas, particularly Arthur Miller's The Crucible, but such sad endings. Tennessee Williams' plays Summer and Smoke and A Streetcar Named Desire seemed merely a loud, pleading cry of, "Why?" The resolutions all point to the depravity of mankind.
Enough was enough!
I glanced through the pile of books, quickly dismissing all titles that had the smallest tint of sadness. Waiting for Godot? Nope. Buried Child? Most definitely not. The weirdly modern artwork on the cover of Bertolt Brecht's plays caused me to delve deeper into the book bag.
A small, leather-bound volume waited unassuming at the bottom of my book bag. The Angel That Troubled The Waters. The gold, engraved name "Thornton Wilder" quietly stood at the bottom right-hand of the otherwise blank cover.
I read through the book of plays in an hour. The plays were maximum 5 pages each, the collection contains 16 of these mini-plays. His writing is so different, in a good way, but still. I couldn't make up my mind whether I enjoyed it or not.
From Brother Fire
Isola: My mother says the fire is a wicked thing.
Brother Francis: [turning] What, Sister Annunziata, how can you say that? - Why, what would cook your brother, what would keep you warm? And when you return from the mountain-tops, what else shines out from all the friendly windows of the world? Look at its flames, how they lean towards us!
Isola: It says: Give me something to eat. Give me something to eat.
Brother Francis: [excitedly] Yes, yes. Its warmth is a kind of hunger. [He edges the cloak into the fire] Look how it reaches for it. Wicked? Wicked? Never.
But it was not until I reached the last play, the namesake of the book, The Angel That Troubled The Waters, that I fell in love with his writing.
If it wasn't so long, I would quote the play in its entirety, it is a gem. One of the last lines sums up the entire play
"In Love's service only the wounded soldiers can serve."
Beautiful. If you ever feel like reading a few thought-provoking, simply odd, and uplifting plays, Thornton Wilder's short plays are just perfect.
I can't say I've read so many plays, but modern plays have to be depressing. What do they have to put hope in?
Waiting for Godot is an excellent play...but yeah, its pretty depressing too.