heartbreak house-第1章

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Heartbreak　House

by　George　Bernard　Shaw






A　FANTASIA　IN　THE　RUSSIAN　MANNER　ON　ENGLISH　THEMES





HEARTBREAK　HOUSE　AND　HORSEBACK　HALL


Where　Heartbreak　House　Stands

Heartbreak　House　is　not　merely　the　name　of　the　play　which　follows
this　preface。　It　is　cultured；　leisured　Europe　before　the　war。
When　the　play　was　begun　not　a　shot　had　been　fired；　and　only　the
professional　diplomatists　and　the　very　few　amateurs　whose　hobby
is　foreign　policy　even　knew　that　the　guns　were　loaded。　A　Russian
playwright；　Tchekov；　had　produced　four　fascinating　dramatic
studies　of　Heartbreak　House；　of　which　three；　The　Cherry　Orchard；
Uncle　Vanya；　and　The　Seagull；　had　been　performed　in　England。
Tolstoy；　in　his　Fruits　of　Enlightenment；　had　shown　us　through　it
in　his　most　ferociously　contemptuous　manner。　Tolstoy　did　not
waste　any　sympathy　on　it：　it　was　to　him　the　house　in　which　Europe
was　stifling　its　soul；　and　he　knew　that　our　utter　enervation　and
futilization　in　that　overheated　drawingroom　atmosphere　was
delivering　the　world　over　to　the　control　of　ignorant　and　soulless
cunning　and　energy；　with　the　frightful　consequences　which　have
now　overtaken　it。　Tolstoy　was　no　pessimist：　he　was　not　disposed
to　leave　the　house　standing　if　he　could　bring　it　down　about　the
ears　of　its　pretty　and　amiable　voluptuaries；　and　he　wielded　the
pickaxe　with　a　will。　He　treated　the　case　of　the　inmates　as　one　of
opium　poisoning；　to　be　dealt　with　by　seizing　the　patients　roughly
and　exercising　them　violently　until　they　were　broad　awake。
Tchekov；　more　of　a　fatalist；　had　no　faith　in　these　charming
people　extricating　themselves。　They　would；　he　thought；　be　sold　up
and　sent　adrift　by　the　bailiffs；　and　he　therefore　had　no　scruple
in　exploiting　and　even　flattering　their　charm。



The　Inhabitants

Tchekov's　plays；　being　less　lucrative　than　swings　and
roundabouts；　got　no　further　in　England；　where　theatres　are　only
ordinary　commercial　affairs；　than　a　couple　of　performances　by　the
Stage　Society。　We　stared　and　said；　〃How　Russian！〃　They　did　not
strike　me　in　that　way。　Just　as　Ibsen's　intensely　Norwegian　plays
exactly　fitted　every　middle　and　professional　class　suburb　in
Europe；　these　intensely　Russian　plays　fitted　all　the　country
houses　in　Europe　in　which　the　pleasures　of　music；　art；
literature；　and　the　theatre　had　supplanted　hunting；　shooting；
fishing；　flirting；　eating；　and　drinking。　The　same　nice　people；
the　same　utter　futility。　The　nice　people　could　read；　some　of　them
could　write；　and　they　were　the　sole　repositories　of　culture　who
had　social　opportunities　of　contact　with　our　politicians；
administrators；　and　newspaper　proprietors；　or　any　chance　of
sharing　or　influencing　their　activities。　But　they　shrank　from
that　contact。　They　hated　politics。　They　did　not　wish　to　realize
Utopia　for　the　common　people：　they　wished　to　realize　their
favorite　fictions　and　poems　in　their　own　lives；　and；　when　they
could；　they　lived　without　scruple　on　incomes　which　they　did
nothing　to　earn。　The　women　in　their　girlhood　made　themselves　look
like　variety　theatre　stars；　and　settled　down　later　into　the　types
of　beauty　imagined　by　the　previous　generation　of　painters。　They
took　the　only　part　of　our　society　in　which　there　was　leisure　for
high　culture；　and　made　it　an　economic；　political　and；　as　far　as
practicable；　a　moral　vacuum；　and　as　Nature；　abhorring　the　vacuum；
immediately　filled　it　up　with　sex　and　with　all　sorts　of　refined
pleasures；　it　was　a　very　delightful　place　at　its　best　for　moments
of　relaxation。　In　other　moments　it　was　disastrous。　For　prime
ministers　and　their　like；　it　was　a　veritable　Capua。



Horseback　Hall

But　where　were　our　front　benchers　to　nest　if　not　here？　The
alternative　to　Heartbreak　House　was　Horseback　Hall；　consisting　of
a　prison　for　horses　with　an　annex　for　the　ladies　and　gentlemen
who　rode　them；　hunted　them；　talked　about　them；　bought　them　and
sold　them；　and　gave　nine…tenths　of　their　lives　to　them；　dividing
the　other　tenth　between　charity；　churchgoing　（as　a　substitute　for
religion）；　and　conservative　electioneering　（as　a　substitute　for
politics）。　It　is　true　that　the　two　establishments　got　mixed　at
the　edges。　Exiles　from　the　library；　the　music　room；　and　the
picture　gallery　would　be　found　languishing　among　the　stables；
miserably　discontented；　and　hardy　horsewomen　who　slept　at　the
first　chord　of　Schumann　were　born；　horribly　misplaced；　into　the
garden　of　Klingsor；　but　sometimes　one　came　upon　horsebreakers　and
heartbreakers　who　could　make　the　best　of　both　worlds。　As　a　rule；
however；　the　two　were　apart　and　knew　little　of　one　another；　so
the　prime　minister　folk　had　to　choose　between　barbarism　and
Capua。　And　of　the　two　atmospheres　it　is　hard　to　say　which　was　the
more　fatal　to　statesmanship。


Revolution　on　the　Shelf

Heartbreak　House　was　quite　familiar　with　revolutionary　ideas　on
paper。　It　aimed　at　being　advanced　and　freethinking；　and　hardly
ever　went　to　church　or　kept　the　Sabbath　except　by　a　little　extra
fun　at　weekends。　When　you　spent　a　Friday　to　Tuesday　in　it　you
found　on　the　shelf　in　your　bedroom　not　only　the　books　of　poets
and　novelists；　but　of　revolutionary　biologists　and　even
economists。　Without　at　least　a　few　plays　by　myself　and　Mr
Granville　Barker；　and　a　few　stories　by　Mr　H。　G。　Wells；　Mr　Arnold
Bennett；　and　Mr　John　Galsworthy；　the　house　would　have　been　out　of
the　movement。　You　would　find　Blake　among　the　poets；　and　beside
him　Bergson；　Butler；　Scott　Haldane；　the　poems　of　Meredith　and
Thomas　Hardy；　and；　generally　speaking；　all　the　literary
implements　for　forming　the　mind　of　the　perfect　modern　Socialist
and　Creative　Evolutionist。　It　was　a　curious　experience　to　spend
Sunday　in　dipping　into　these　books；　and　the　Monday　morning　to
read　in　the　daily　paper　that　the　country　had　just　been　brought　to
the　verge　of　anarchy　because　a　new　Home　Secretary　or　chief　of
police　without　an　idea　in　his　head　that　his　great…grandmother
might　not　have　had　to　apologize　for；　had　refused　to　〃recognize〃
some　powerful　Trade　Union；　just　as　a　gondola　might　refuse　to
recognize　a　20；000…ton　liner。

In　short；　power　and　culture　were　in　separate　compartments。　The
barbarians　were　not　only　literally　in　the　saddle；　but　on　the
front　bench　in　the　House　of　commons；　with　nobody　to　correct　their
incredible　ignorance　of　modern　thought　and　political　science　but
upstarts　from　the　counting…house；　who　had　spent　their　lives
furnishing　their　pockets　instead　of　their　minds。　Both；　however；
were　practised　in　dealing　with　money　and　with　men；　as　far　as
acquiring　the　one　and　exploiting　the　other　went；　and　although
this　is　as　undesirable　an　expertness　as　that　of　the　medieval
robber　baron；　it　qualifies　men　to　keep　an　estate　or　a　business
going　in　its　old　routine　without　necessarily　understanding　it；
just　as　Bond　Street　tradesmen　and　domestic　servants　keep
fashionable　society　going　without　any　instruction　in　sociology。



The　Cherry　Orchard

The　Heartbreak　people　neither　could　nor　would　do　anything　of　the
sort。　With　their　heads　as　full　of　the　Anticipations　of　Mr　H。　G。
Wells　as　the　heads　of　our　actual　rulers　were　empty　even　of　the
anticipations　of　Erasmus　or　Sir　Thomas　More；　they　refused　the
drudgery　of　politics；　and　would　have　made　a　very　poor　job　of　it
if　they　had　changed　their　minds。　Not　that　they　would　have　been
allowed　to　meddle　anyhow；　as　only　through　the　accident　of　being　a
hereditary　peer　can　anyone　in　these　days　of　Votes　for　Everybody
get　into　parliament　if　handicapped　by　a　serious　modern　cultural
equipment；　but　if　they　had；　their　habit　of　living　in　a　vacuum
would　have　left　them　helpless　end　ineffective　in　public　affairs。
Even　in　private　life　they　were　often　helpless　wasters　of　their
inheritance；　like　the　people　in　Tchekov's　Cherry　Orchard。　Even
those　who　lived　within　their　incomes　were　really　kept　going　by
their　solicitors　and　agents；　being　unable　to　manage　an　estate　or
run　a　business　without　continual　prompting　from　those　who　have　to
learn　how　to　do　such　things　or　starve。

》From　what　is　called　Democracy　no　corrective　to　this　state　of
things　could　be　hoped。　It　is　said　that　every　people　has　the
Government　it　deserves。　It　is　more　to　the　point　that　every
Government　has　the　electorate　it　deserves