THE ART OF THE PLAYWRIGHT.*
PROBABLY the author of How to Write a Good Play would himself agree that a more suitable title for his book would have been How Not to Write a Bad Play, and that advice on that subject could be best given in very few words : "Do not write a play at all." No one, indeed, can be more fully alive than Mr. Archer seems to be to the difficulties of play- writing, and the uselessness of any one attempting the task unless he were sure that he had the root of the matter in him. In point of difficulty, moreover, he places the most popular form of play first of all. "It is difficult," he says, "to write a drama at all : it is a harder task to write a successful drama : it is even more difficult to write a successful comedy-drama: to write a successful comedy is a yet greater feat : to write a great and popular comedy is a work of genius." That is to say, that the most seductive and most remunerative form of play- writing is out of the reach of any one save that rare and unaccountable personage, the man of genius. That is an opinion which we should have held even without Mr. Archer's assurance that it was a correct one ; and holding it, we are disposed to think that no man can be taught how to write a good play, because the chief essential towards that feat is not one that can be reduced to rule or learnt. However, we must confess that the advice that Mr. Archer offers to would-be playwrights amply justifies his book, if it does not precisely justify its title. The aspirant can at least learn from his pages what are the most necessary points for a dramatist to take into consideration, and what are the principal pitfalls which beset his path ; and knowledge of what one should not do, is a distinct step towards the knowledge of what one should do. An actor himself, as well as a careful student of the drama, Mr. Archer's advice is of a very practical nature, and the hints that he throws out are those which could only be otherwise obtained by experience. His book strikes us as one that would really be of use to any one who attempts to write a play without possessing an intimate knowledge of the exigencies of the stage ; and if it should serve to prevent such a writer from committing some of the innumerable blunders into which his inexperience will certainly lead him, it will save much loss of labour and trouble, both to the writer himself and to the managers whom he importunes. Also it may have a deterrent effect, for Mr. Archer is by no means disposed to underrate the difficulties which he de- scribes, and in that respect also he will have written to a good purpose. There is something very enticing in the idea of writing a play. If it does happen to succeed, the profit and the renown are immediate and substantial, and one can- not wonder at the pile of manuscripts that are said to accumulate in the managerial offices. It seems so easily done, and with so little labour ; and yet, out of the hundreds of new plays that are written every year, hardly three in a hundred are ever presented on the stage, and of these few only one or two can claim any real success. The rest simply represent so much wasted labour.
Not the least interesting part of Mr. Archer's book is his survey of dramatic work that has been done by men who have succeeded brilliantly in other branches of literature, but have utterly failed in dramatic writing. The list of authors who have attempted and failed to write for the stage is a really formidable one, and includes, with but few exceptions, nearly all the great names in literature,—failed, according to Mr. Archer, generally through ignorance of the requirements of the stage. For it would be impossible to believe that Scott, Coleridge, or Byron were lacking in dramatic force, or that Charles Lamb or Thackeray could not write good dialogue. The world is rather apt to clamour every now and then for a better literary quality in its plays, and to lament that the stage is not written for by men who have a recognised place in literature, and who would, therefore, presumably be better fitted to produce something that was worth listening to. People who idly echo this complaint would do well to look through the list of the failures that are here recorded. If that is not sufficient answer, let them read one or two of Charles Lamb's rejected plays, or that distressing production which Thackeray afterwards converted into an almost equally bad novel, under the name of Lovel the Widower. They will probably agree that there is something more required than imagination and power of expression. Even Dickens, who was an excellent
• How to Write a Good Play. By Frank Archer. London ; Sampson Low, Marston, and Co.
amateur actor himself, failed in writing for the theatre, possibly from not recognising that the necessity of con- forming to its rules was part. ,nount over all literary con- siderations. It is curious to note among the names of unsuccessful dramatists, those of Wordsworth and Richard Cobden. Passing from the consideration of unsuccessful plays, to those that have been successful, the author, in attempting a definition of the latter, says that "a sym- pathetic and well-constructed drama, that yields the fullest opportunities to a clever company of actors in their re- spective lines, and that will stand a reasonable test of time, comes under the head of a successful play." Upon two qualities at least he insists,—sympathy and good construction. It was to those two qualities that Robertson and Tom Taylor chiefly owed their success as playwrights. In the case of the former, we should say that it was solely to those two qualities, for, beyond their adaptability to the powers of the actors and their appeal to the sentiment of the public, the comedies of that popular dramatist had but little to recommend them. We are not sure that sympathy is quite the most necessary requirement for a good play ; but, at any rate, it has much to do with its popularity. Originality of invention, we gather, the author thinks a quality not altogether indispensable, though he declares that invention, original or not, is an essential of good play-writing, and protests that there is no reason why English writers should not show themselves as inventive as their French rivals. As a help towards invention, he suggests that a greater use should be made of collabora- tion, thinking that a great deal of the Frenchman's superiority in this matter is to be traced to the fact that he understands the value of collaboration far better than we do. We should hardly have thought that the advice was needed. Almost as many plays appear to-day with the names of two authors attached to them, as plays for which one man alone is responsible. Nor do we think that the former show any advance in the matter of originality. But all comparisons of English comedy or drama with the French are unsatisfactory ; the authors write for two very different publics, and are judged by very different standards.
It is when he comes to the consideration of the actual mechanism of the play, that Mr. Archer's remarks are likely to prove most valuable to the inexperienced drama- tist. Here the reader really feels that he is being taken behind the scenes and initiated into the secrets of stage effects. The analysis of a play by which the author seeks to Must] ate his meaning, is very cleverly and lucidly done, and serves to ( onvey a better idea of the chief aims and difficulties of a dramatist than could be obtained from many chapters of theorising. The plot which he analyses is not a very intricate one ; but, taken to pieces, it presents a very different appearance, and it is obvious to even the most superficial observer that the fitting together of those pieces was no easy matter. On the whole, Mr. Archer's book is a very interesting one, not only to the dramatic aspirant, but also to the general reader, who will find in it many hints that may help his future appreciation of dramatic writing and acting.
Previous page
