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University Microfilms International 300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106 USA St. John's Road, Tyler’s Green High Wycombe, Bucks, England HP10 8HR l 77-31,973

SHEA, Maureen Ann, 1950* THE PLAYWRITING TECHNIQUE OF S. N. BEHRMAN: THE THEATRE GUILD YEARS, 1927-1938.

The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1977 Theater

University Microfilms International t Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106

Copyright by Maureen Ann Shea 1977 THE PLAYWRITING TECHN IQ.UE OF S. N. BEHRMAN:

THE THEATRE GUILD YEARS, 1927-1938

DISSERTATION

Presented in P artial Fulfillm ent of the Requirements for

the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate

School of The Ohio State University

By

Maureen Ann Shea, B.A., M.A.

•j-

The Ohio State University

1977

Read i ng Commi ttee: Approved By

Roy H. Bower Alan L. Woods John C. Morrow ✓^Advi ser Department of Theatre For My Parents

i i ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish to acknowledge my considerable debt to Dr. Roy H. Bowen, Dr

Alan L. Woods, and Dr. John C. Morrow. Their liberal guidance and constructive c ritic is m were invaluable to the progress of this study.

Through his example as a stage d irector and teacher, Dr. Bowen has been a constant source of encouragement, and for having experienced his wisdom, patience, and felicity, I am extremely grateful.

I am indebted to the s ta ff of the Wisconsin State H istorical Socie

for their efficiency in providing Behrman's manuscripts.

For allowing me to participate in the film ing of Behrman's End of

Summer for PBS's "Theater in America" series, I wish to express my

gratitude to Dr. Alan L. Woods, Dr. John A. Walker, Dr. George E.

Bogusch, Richard G. Fallon, and the s ta ff of the Charles MacArthur

Center for American Theatre in Tallahassee, Florida.

Also, my thanks to Robert F. Gross, J r., who generously assisted

me in the task of transcribing Behrman's notes and correspondence.

Special mention should also be made of the Gross family for their grace

and hospi t a li ty.

F in a lly , help and encouragement came from my family and friends,

to whom I extend my sincere appreciation and love. VITA

December 29, 1950 ...... Born - Worcester, Massachusetts

1972 ...... B.A., Clark University, Worcester, Massachusetts

1973 ...... M.A., University of Connecticut, Storrs, Connecticut

1973-1977 ...... Teaching Associate, Department of Theatre, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

PUBLICATIONS

"Nance O'Neil: Power and Passion on the American Stage." Theatre Studies 21 (197^): 61—69•

FIELDS OF STUDY

Theatre History ...... Alan L. Woods Alfred S. Golding

Theatre Production ...... Roy H. Bowen

Dramatic Literature £• Criticism ...... John C. Morrow Donald R. Glancy TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page DEDICATION...... ii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS...... i ii

VITA ...... iv

Chapter

I. INTRODUCTION

Review of Previous Literature ...... 1 Scope and Purpose ...... 5 Biographical Data and Influences ...... 6

I I . THE SECOND MAN

Literary Sources ...... 28 First-Draft Synopsis ...... 36 R e v is io n s ...... kS C o n c lu s io n ...... 57

I I I . METEOR

Literary Sources ...... 60 First-Draft Synopsis ...... 67 Character Prototypes ...... 78 R e v is io n s ...... 85 C o n c lu s io n ...... 102

! V. BIOGRAPHY

Literary Sources ...... 108 Character Prototypes ...... 110 F irs t-D ra ft Synopsis ...... 136 R e v is io n s ...... 151 C o n c lu s io n ...... 160

V. RAIN FROM HEAVEN

Literary Sources ...... 163 Character Prototypes ...... 169 F irs t-D ra ft Synopsis ...... I 98 R e v is io n s ...... 207 C o n c lu s io n ...... 217

v VI. END OF SUMMER

Literary Sources ...... 219 Character Prototypes ...... 226 F irs t-D ra ft Synopsis ...... 250 R e v i s i o n s ...... 253 C onclusion...... 267

VI L WINE OF CHOICE

Literary Sources ...... 270 Character Prototypes ...... 27^f F irs t-D ra ft Synopsis ...... 293 R e v i s i o n s ...... 299 C onclusion...... 316

CONCLUSIONS...... 318

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 330

APPENDIX ...... 338

VL CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION

The hardest thing in the world— to w rite a play. Behrman, End of Summer Notebook, p. 37*

The playw riting career of S. N. Behrman has been studied by various scholars in dissertations ranging in approach from c r itic a l analyses of the comic technique, social themes, plots, characters, and language in his plays to historical studies of the original productions and social context of Behrman's work.

The earliest scholarly examination of Behrman's plays, Milton

Levin's "S. N. Behrman: The Operation and Dilemmas of the Comic

Spirit,"^ is a generic study of six of Behrman's comedies written from

1932 to 1939* An introductory chapter demonstrates Behrman's relation­ ship to the late nineteenth-century dramatic theory of George Meredith, who viewed the "Comic S p irit" in drama as a llie d with the playwright's expression of a philosophical commitment to v ita l social change. Levin defines four major types of modern high comedy: comedy of manners, high

farce, problem comedy and the comedy of ideas. Behrman's comedies of

the 1930's, he concludes, are examples of the "comedy of ideas," a species of the genre that is represented by plays which dramatize a counterpoint of social and political attitudes in the action of a play.

^(Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan, 1958).

1 2

More specifically, Levin states that Behrman's plays present the counter­ point of a commitment to "change," an activist label that Levin identifies as the catchword of fa c is t and communist thought in the 1930's, with a rejection of change, a stance that, Levin claims, is dramatized in

Behrman's characterizations of his heroines, who personify the core of the new liberal position. Levin closes his study with the assertion that

Behrman's literate and elegant dramatic expression of a humanist point of view was the playwright's unique contribution to the American stage and to the in tellectu al ferment of the 19301s.

Lewis Heniford's dissertation, "S. N. Behrman As A Social Drama- t i s t , " is the most complete overview of Behrman's work extant. Heniford approaches Behrman's plays from the point of view of biographical c r i t ­

icism. He documents Behrman's lif e and id e n tifie s fiv e forces that shaped the playwright's development as a w rite r: family background, formal education, early theatrical activities, some associates, and certain interests. The body of the study plots Behrman's rise, zenith, and decline as a successful commercial playwright on the continuum of

the dram atist's changing philosophy of society. Heniford delineates

two recurring themes in Behrman's plays, p o litic s and re lig io n , and he concludes that the playwright's consciously autobiographical piece, The

Cold Wind and the Warm (1958), was the culmination of Behrman's lifelong

concern with contemporary socio-religious issues. The study includes an

2 (Ph.D. dissertation, Stanford U niversity, 196*t). excellent appendix of plot summaries and cast lists of all but one of

Behrman's produced plays.

Heniford's dissertation was w ritten without access to two major primary sources: Behrman's personal papers, donated to The Wisconsin

State H istorical Society in 1962, and Behrman's autobiography, People In

A D iary, published in 1972. Throughout his study, Heniford conceded that much of his research on Behrman's life, which formed the basis of his biographical examination, yielded scattered and fragmentary infor­ mation concerning the relationship between the playwright's lif e and works. He concluded that his study must be viewed as a preliminary work that would contribute, in part, to a future examination of the influences on Behrman's career.

John Nydegger's study, "A Critical Analysis of the Original Drama- u tizatio n s of S. N. Behrman," and William Klink's d issertation, "A

C ritic a l Analysis of Selected Plays of S. N. Behrman,"^ are complementary neo-Aristotelian appraisals of Behrman's drama from the standpoint of the plot, characters, thought, and language in his plays. Both scholars agree that characterization was Behrman's strongest technique as a dramatist. They also support their favorable evaluations of the play­ w right's dialogue with numerous examples from the plays. Nydegger's dissertation is more valuable than Klink's study for its potential use

in future critical studies of Behrman's work, because it includes a

^Behrman's last play, But For Whom Charlie (1964) was in rehearsal when Heniford completed his study.

i i . . (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Denver, 1969).

^(Ph.D. dissertation, The Catholic University of America, 1972). detailed history of contemporary c r itic a l reaction to the original productions of Behrman's plays.

The most recent dissertation on Behrman's drama, Marilynn Baxter's "Modern £ Woman As Heroine in Representative Plays by S. N. Behrman," is a sociological examination of womens' roles in four of Behrman's plays:

B rief Moment, Biography, Rai n From Heaven, and End of Summer. Dr. Baxter

is the only scholar who makes use of the Behrman Papers as primary source material for a study of the playwright's work. While many of her con­

clusions depend on the correct identification of certain actual models

mentioned in Behrman's notebooks with th eir respective heroines in his

plays, Dr. Baxter's use of Behrman's manuscripts is occasionally incon­

sis te n t, erroneous, or unsupported by related secondary source m aterial.

For example, she includes Brief Moment as one of the four plays studied,

yet i t is a drama for which no detailed notes survive. She infers, as

do most critics, that Biography was written consciously as a vehicle for

lna C laire, and indeed Miss C laire's name appeared frequently in the

notes for that play, but a more careful study of secondary source

materials available on Behrman's producer, the Theatre Guild, reveals

that Behrman originally wrote the play with Laurette Taylor in mind. The

decision to use lna C laire was made by the Guild's Board of Managers on

October 21, 1932, less than two months before the play opened in P itts ­

burgh and nearly ten months a fte r the f ir s t d ra ft was completed by

Behrman.^ lna C laire's name appeared most frequently in Behrman's notes

6 (Ph.D. di ssertation, University of Wisconsin, 1973).

7 Roy S. Waldau, Vintage Years of the Theatre Guild: 1928-1939 (Cleveland, Ohio: Case Western Reserve Press, 1972), p"! 1^*8. 5 for Biography only after the Guild's decision to cast her had been made.

Baxter also fa ils to id en tify the most important clue to the source of

the original plot and enumeration of characters for End of Summer.

Behrman's working t i t l e for the f ir s t d ra ft of the play was "P.H.G .,"

initials that Baxter correctly infers were descriptive of a role model

for one of the female characters in End of Summer. She surmises that

"P.H.G." sig n ified the name "Peggy Guggenheim," and she ten tatively, but erroneously, speculates that Miss Guggenheim, the well-known Bohemian

h e ir e s s , or someone like Miss Guggenheim, was Behrman's model for his

heroine, Leonie Frothingham. The letters "P.H.G." were actually the

initials of eighteen-year-old Peggy Huntington Gowen, a Standard Oil

heiress, whose reported court battle over the legality of her mother's w ill served as the impetus for the in itia l plot of End of Summer.

The present study w ill examine the dramatic technique of S. N.

Behrman as evidenced by his work on six plays that were produced by the

Theatre Guild from 1927-1938: The Second Man (1927), Meteor (1929),

Bjograpny (1932), Rain From Heaven (193*0, End of Summer (1936), and

Wine of Choice (1938). Behrman's notes on the plays provide the most

extensive and pertinent body of primary source material on his play-

writing technique. Behrman was a prolific, almost obsessed writer. His

publications include six prose works, among them his memoirs, People In

A Diary, written from a sixty-volume diary he kept from 1915-1972. He

wrote eighty essays, more than h a lf of them for The New Yorker, in the

sixty years from 1912-1972. He was the sole author, collaborator, or

consultant for twenty-two screenplays that were filmed between 1930 and g 1962, and he wrote twenty-two plays for the commercial theatre during the period 1923-1964. In the twenty-three boxes of unpublished manuscript material housed in the Wisconsin State Historical Society library are

Behrman's notes for most of these projects, meticulously handwritten or typed and carefu lly annotated with the dates and places of o rig in . Thus it is possible to compile a daily account of Behrman's work as it was completed. Behrman's notebooks also include observations and comments regarding his personal experience of the process of playwriting that are addressed to himself in the third person. Along with the plays them­ selves, the unpublished Notebooks for The Second Nan, Meteor, B?ography,

Rain From Heaven, End of Summer, and Wi ne of Choi ce w ill serve as the primary source material for the present study of Behrman's dramatic technique.

Behrman's early development as a w rite r was influenced by a number of factors: the circumstances of his childhood, his formal education, and the direction of his la te r vocational development by a neighborhood Q friend, Daniel Asher. Behrman was born Samuel Nathaniel Behrman on

^Behrman's screen credits include: Ligh tn in ' (1930); L i1iom (1930); He Knew Women (1930); Queen Christina (1933); Cava 1 cade (1933); Anna Karenina (1935); Tale of Two Cities (1935); Parnell (1937); Conquest (1938); The Cowboy and the Lady (1938); Ninotchka (1939); Waterloo Bridge (1940); No Time For Comedy (1940); Two-Faced Woman (!9 4 l);~The Sea Wolf (1941); The Pirate (19487; Quo Vadis (1951); Gaby (1956); Bonjour Tristesse (1956); Me and the Colonel (1958); Fanny (1961); and Stowaway In The Sky (1962). Behrman's published works are cited in the B ib li­ ography.

^Information about Behrman's early career supplements Heniford's study, which predated the publication of Behrman's autobiography, People In A Diary (Boston: L ittle , Brown, 1972) and Donald Asher's account of his father's relationship with Behrman, The Eminent Yachtsman and the Whorehouse Piano Player (New York: Coward, McCann & Geohegan, 1973)• or about June 9, 1893, in Worcester, Massachusetts.^ He was the youngest son of Joseph and Zelda (Feingold) Behrman, who were Jewish immigrants from the province of Vilna, in Russian Lithuania. Joseph Behrman operated a grocery story on Water Street in the heart of Worcester's Jewish ghetto, but he was less known for his business endeavors than for his high standing in the community as a respected Talmudic scholar. In his auto­ biography, Behrman recalled that the community surrounding the family's home at 31 Providence Street was "a theological aristocracy in which money gave you no s ta tu s ." ^ Behrman's brothers, Moe and Hiram, le ft

th eir poverty-stricken household to work as accountants in New York City, and they la te r shared the financial responsibility for Behrman's college education.

Behrman attended Providence Street School through the eighth grade,

and he was graduated in 1910 from Classical High School, where he was

active in the Debate Club. Shortly a fte r his graduation from high

school, Behrman wrote a vaudeville sketch entitled Only a Part. Later

publicity releases claim that Behrman acted in his sketch at the Four-

12 teenth Street Theatre in New York in 1911* No manuscript of the piece

is extant, and contemporary newspaper records do not corraborate la te r

accounts of the performance. Behrman's health faile d in 1911, and he

^The exact birthdate is uncertain. Joseph Behrman computed his childrens' birthdates by reference to the Hebrew calendar. An approxi­ mate date was later submitted to Worcester's O ffice of Records. Heniford, p. 191.

^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 6 .

^New York Times, 16 February 1936. 8 spent the following year at home. In 1912 he enrolled at Clark College in Worcester, where he majored in English. Behrman's theatrical activities at Clark included a performance as "Billing" in Ibsen's Enemy of the People in A p ril, 1913, and an appearance as "The Father" in

Maeterlinck's The Intruder in March, 191 . He worked b rie fly as the campus correspondent for the drama section of the Boston Evening Tran­ script, which published his review of a touring production of Shaw's

Heartbreak House in October, 1913- During his first two years at Clark,

Behrman also wrote eight essays and a one-act play, The Destroyer, for the campus literary journal, the Clark College Monthly.

Joseph Behrman died during his youngest son's freshman year at Clark

College. The parental responsibility of directing Behrman's education was immediately assumed by a neighbor, Daniel Asher, who exerted a strong 13 influence on Behrman's early career as a dramatist. Asher lived at

34 Providence Street, d ire c tly across the stre e t from the Behrman fam ily's home. When Joseph Behrman died, Asher was a twenty-seven-year-old chemist for the Worcester Water Department. His extra-vocational activ­

itie s , however, included d iversified interests in philosophy, astrology, drama, Victorian literature, and m u sic.A sher's avocations contributed

^Behrman's relationship with Dan Asher was the basis for a series of a rtic le s printed in the New Yorker in 1954, which were collected and published as The Worcester Account later that year. Asher's name was changed to "Willie Lavin." Behrman dramatized The Worcester Account, with W illie Lavin as the protagonist, in The Cold Wind and the Warm- (1958).

^Details of Daniel Asher's life and his relationship with Behrman are from Donald Asher, The Eminent Yachtsman and the Whorehouse Piano Player (New York: Coward, McCann & Geohegan, 1973)• 9 to an immediate intellectual rapport with Behrman, whose worldly

interests clashed somewhat with Joseph Behrman's scholarly preoccupation with theology. "Allie" Asher recalled his brother's tutelage of the young Sam Behrman in an interview with Asher's son, Donald:

Your father's love for Sam Behrman was tremendous. And it was reciprocated. Dan molded his whole lif e in those days, guided a ll his a c tiv itie s , as a mother would guide a c h ild .15

Asher supported his protege's lite ra ry aspirations by editing the manu­ scripts of Behrman's articles for the Clark College Monthly. His first major contribution to Behrman's la te r career as a dram atist, however, was his advice that Behrman should transfer from Clark College to

Harvard University to study with George Pierce Baker. In 1914 Behrman

le ft Clark and enrolled at Harvard, where he continued his major in

English literature. He was not accepted into Baker's famous playwriting seminar, "English 47," until the academic year 1915-1916. For eleven years, from the time of Behrman's graduation from Harvard in 1916, until

the New York opening of his f i r s t produced play in 1927, Asher countered

Behrman's sense of failure as a playwright with encouraging criticism of his unproduced plays. A fter Behrman's in itia l success with The Second

Man in 1927, Asher proceeded to share in the playwright's progress

through constructive counsel regarding Behrman's working methods for the

initial drafts and revisions of Serena Blandish (1929) and Meteor (1929).

Asher's sister recalled, "Sam wouldn't make a move without Dan in those years when his plays were being produced. Dan was at his beck and c a ll,

^Ib i d., p. 48. 10 forever on the phone to New York and Philadelphia and Boston."^ Asher's assistance seems to have consisted largely of advice for Behrman on the best possible atmosphere and schedule for the completion of his work.

Asher's lengthy examination of a three-hour-per-day work schedule that he devised for Behrman in 1928 was typical of his frequent correspondence concerning Behrman's working habits:

I am gratified to learn that you have not lost any confidence in the schedule. It is of the utmost importance for you to understand that in and of itself the thing is sound, logical, and offers you considerable leeway. You have proven this to yourself time and again. The crux of the three-hour plan, of course, is elaborate preparation. (I have been entertaining the radical notion of a reduction to the bone bottom base of two hours--but more about that when I see you.) If we assume that this period represents for you a full day's work, it becomes absolutely essential to regulate all other activities with a view toward realizing an optimum state of e ffic ie n c y . If mental and emotional drain results from p articip atio n in those a c tiv itie s which are so d if f ic u lt to avoid in New York, and you come to the period of work with energies at low level and l i t t l e power at your command, then the whole plan of things is n u llifie d . Only by maintaining the fount of your ener­ gies—a continuous drawing from and replenishing despite distractions or contrary tendencies--can you build up the e ffe c t of habit and a progressive sense of ease in drawing upon your powers. There is no question that the social m ilieu of New York and the business resonances peculiar to your fie ld , with all their attendant emotional excitements, set up mental conflicts and stresses to the point of almost wholly unfit­ ting you for a calm survey and formulation of your problems. It is the superimposition of conditions on the plan—akin to the fatigue resulting in metals when abnormal stresses are applied to the atomic framework--that rends the structure and speeds its collapse. Correct or remove the conditions and the stresses vanish. This means, of course, as we've virtually concluded in our past discussions, that most of your work w ill have to be done away from New York. We'll discuss at length the sites other than Blue H ill, Maine, when we mee t . ^ 7

l 6 lb id ., pp. }kS-]k7.

17 1bid., pp. 110- 111. 11

The sense of s ta b ility that Asher communicated in most of his correspondence with Behrman was deceptive. In 1928 Asher began to experience "feeling a rush in his life, a lack of control, things getting

1 ft away from him." Asher described his sensations of mental d ete rio ra ­ tion in letters to Behrman, and Behrman advised his friend to seek help from Dr. Davies, a Boston-based Freudian psychologist. Asher reported that his f ir s t v is it with Dr. Davies was also his last:

In answer to a query of yours some time back, I did not renew my consultations with the eminent Dr. Davies. With all respect due a former student of Freud's, I found his views, as they related to me, somewhat superficial. This, in conjunction with my prevalent short attention span, glazed the session with an inevitable patina of f a i l u r e . ^

On June 13, 1929, Asher was admitted to Dearborn Hospital fo r what was then diagnosed as a "nervous breakdown." Four days la te r he committed suicide.

In a burst of enthusiasm after attending a performance of The Second

Man, Asher wrote proudly of Behrman, "He'll soon flare 1ike a meteor in the comedy of ideas.B ehrm an's career eventually did "flare," with no small measure of thanks due to Daniel Asher's emphatic and accepted prescriptions for a daily writing schedule.

Asher was Behrman's chief consultant on working habits, but

Behrman's fundamental dramatic technique was derived, in the main, from the lectures of George Pierce Baker. When Baker convened his "English

^ I b i d., p. kS.

^Ibid., p. 199*

201bid., p. 133. 47" playwriting workshop at Harvard for the academic year 1915-1916, he had recently graduated special student Eugene O'Neill, and he greeted a new group of neophytes that included S. N. Behrman and Sidney Howard.

Among the requirements that were established as standard procedure

in "English 4-7" were: (l) students were required to keep a notebook of a ll news events that might lead to an idea for a plot, and (2) students were required to keep th eir notebooks on th eir persons at a ll times in

21 order that they might jot down ideas as they received them. In light

of Baker's course requirements, it is perhaps no mere coincidence that

Behrman began keeping a diary in 1915- Behrman also maintained a news­

paper file of clippings throughout his career that he referred to for

ideas for plots or details of characterization. The inspiration for

both Rain From Heaven and End of Summer was provided by a rtic le s that

Behrman clipped from the New York Times.

One of Baker's f i r s t assignments for the inexperienced dramatists

in "English 4-7" involved "constructing scenarios from short stories

which had been marked by the instructor; these would, in turn, be used

to serve as the outline for a one-act play."^ It was Baker's convic­

tion that the study of a completed scenario was the quickest and surest

means of showing up a poor plot:

It is at careful planning and plotting that the inexperienced dramatist balks. Scenarios, the outlines which w ill show any in te llig e n t reader what plot the dramatist has in mind and

^Cecil E. Hinkel, "An Analysis and Evaluation of the 47 Workshop of George Pierce Baker" (Ph.D. d issertation, Ohio State University, 1963), p. 142.

^Ibid., p. 146. its exact development, are none too popular. They are, however, the very best means by which a dramatist may force himself to find what for him is the heart of his subject . ^

Eugene O'Neill found considerable merit in Baker's insistence on the 2 L construction of a scenario. Behrman also subsequently followed the procedure in writing almost all of his plays. He first wrote a prose scenario, studied i t , then revised his precis and fin a lly proceeded to w rite the f i r s t d ra ft of the play.

From their experiments in writing one-act plays derived from

selected short stories, Baker's students progressed to dramatizing

original source material. The student prepared a list of selected

25 dramatis personae as the f i r s t step in w ritin g a scenario. J The play­ wright's transformation of his prosaic list of potentially dramatic

figures into speaking characters involved in an action required the

a b ilit y to apply techniques of characterization. Baker a ttrib u ted the

prevalent d iffic u lty of changing a scenario into a play to the author's

refusal to accomodate the mutual demands of plot and characterization.

He suggested techniques for the revision of both plot and characters as

a remedy for this problem:

Given a situ atio n , e ith e r it must grow naturally out of the characters in i t , or the people o rig in a lly in the mind of the author must be remodeled till they fit naturally into the situ atio n . In the la tte r case, a ll that precedes and follows the central situation must be reworked, not as the dramatist may wish, but as the remodeled characters permit. . . . More than one dramatist has found that he

^George Pierce Baker, Dramatic Technique (New York: Houghton M ifflin Company, 1919), P- 80.

2^Louis Sheaffer, O 'N eill: Son and Playwright (Boston: L it t le , Brown, 1968), pp. 295-2:96.

25Baker, p. ^62. ]k

could not compose a scene s a tis fa c to rily t i l l he had w ritten carefu lly the previous history of the important character or characters. The detailed knowledge thus gained revealed whether or not the characters could enter the desired s itu ­ ation, and if so, how. Pailleron declared that, in his early d rafts, he always had three a* four times the materi in regard to his dramatis personae ultim ately used by him. u

Behrman occasionally shared the plight of Pailleron: the length of his notebooks generally increased with each successive play. Most of

Behrman's extraneous observations were speculative notes on the qual­

ities of his fictional characters. Behrman periodically culled his notes, selecting details that might be useful in given situations and

ignoring character traits that no longer applied to the revised action of the play.

Baker also warned his students against "stuffing whatever explan­ ation, description or analysis a novelist might allow himself"27 into

the stage direction for a character's initial entrance. He admonished

fu rth er, "Cross the line, and differences between the novel and the

play are blurred, for the author runs a fair chance of omitting 9 O exposition needed in the te x t." Baker concluded, "In b rie f, under­

stand your characters thoroughly, but do not, in your own personality,

29 describe them anywhere." Behrman generally tended to forget Baker's

advice about stage directions. He often described his personal

observations of characters in the stage directions of his plays, a

2^ lb id ., p. 2^6 ; 2kh.

27lb id ., p. 279-

281 bid., p. 278.

2 9 1bid ., p. 286. practice which led to la te r d iffic u ltie s when the script was in rehear­ sal. Behrman's narrative techniques frequently went unnoticed by his producers, but they were recognized only too well by actors in the la te r stages of the production process. lna Claire, who starred in two of

Behrman's comedies in the 1930's, believed that his substitution of character description for dramatic action in Biography might be repeated with potentially unfavorable results in End of Summer. Behrman described his efforts to reform in an account of a conversation with

Miss Claire that preceded her appearance in End of Summer:

When I told her my idea for End of Summer, the next play I was writing, . . . she was delighted. . . . She cautioned me, "Don't put it all in the stage directions. . . . You fool yourself doing that, but you don't fool me. Get it in the dialogue." I promise^ to try. It ran successfully in America for two seasons.

On the subject of w riting dramatic dialogue, Baker advised against using certain "lazy tric k s :" (l) the repetition of speeches, commonly employed by dramatists who have developed only one major thought pattern for a character, (2 ) the inclusion of qualifying phrases before

lines of dialogue, e.£., "Tenderly," or "Sarcastically," which are frequently hints that the playwright really doesn't know what he wants

the character to say, (3 ) the construction of too many incomplete sentences, usually ending with dashes, which leads to the danger that an audience may not complete the character's thought as the playwright

intended, and (4) the composition of dialogue in blocks, an indication

that the dramatist has forgotten that there are other people on

^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 197* 16

O 1 stage. Discussing the relationship between comic dialogue and char­ acterizatio n , Baker concluded:

If the charm, the w it, the irony of the dialogue does not come from the characters speaking, that dialogue fa ils in what has been shown to be one of its chief essentials, right characterization.32

Lawrence Langner, in his capacity as a member of the Theatre Guild's

Board of Managers, witnessed the successive revisions of eleven plays w ritten by Behrman. In his reminiscences of the Guild, Langner praised

Behrman as the "w riter of the most incisive dialogue of our day."JJ He recalled that the structure of Behrman's plays was frequently reworked, while the characters and dialogue remained v ir tu a lly intact:

Sam Behrman's sense of dramatic structure has never been his strongest point, but his characters are always fascinating and his dialogue scintillating. Given a basic structural skeleton, his plays spring vividly into life.34

The critical studies of John Nydegger and William Klink support

Langner's observations.

One major contribution that Baker made to Behrman's development as a playwright was his emphasis on drawing from both lite ra tu re and lif e for material inspiration in imaginative w ritin g . Baker encouraged his students to improve their technique by "reading as many plays as

3 ^Baker, pp. 361-398.

321 bid., pp. 407-408.

33Lawrence Langner, The Magic Curtain (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1951), p. 220.

3^+ Ib id ., p. 245. 17 possible."^ Behrman was influenced not only by the form of the works he studied; he was inspired by the content as w e ll. Many of Behrman's plays were e ith e r American "versions" of Continental dramas or conscious adaptations of existing lite ra ry works. Behrman termed Ra i n F rom

Heaven his Heartbreak House, a fte r Shaw. End of Summer was to be the

American treatment of Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard, and Wine of Choice was originally an adaptation of Moliere's The Misanthrope. Behrman's a r t is t ic a lly conscious adaptations included: Serena Blandish (1929), a fte r a novel by Enid Bagnold; Amphitryon 38 (1937), a fte r Giradoux;

The Pi rate (1942), after Ludwig Fulda; Jane (1947), after Somerset

Maugham; and I Know My Love (1949), from Marcel Achard's Aupres de ma

B1onde.

Behrman defended his use of lite ra ry sources in a Preface to The

Second Man, a play that was essentially the dramatization of a short story he had written in 1919, which, in turn, had been inspired by the author's chance reading of excerpts from the le tte rs of the Victorian painter, Lord Leighton. On the subject of an artist's preference for

life over literature as material inspiration, Behrman argued:

The old chicken-or-the-egg controversy on this point is really based on an absurdity. it springs from a conception of lite ra tu re as an embalmed e n tity which has no more relatio n to the "stream of consciousness" than a dead brain cell to a liv in g . I cannot imagine any better source-material for creative writing than books. . . . What possible differ­ ence can there be between the blood and the s p ir it of men

^Baker, p. 142. 18

that floods their veins and arteries and those distillations of them that drain into books or paintings or music.36

Behrman believed that a dramatist did not have to choose between l i t e r ­ ature and lif e for his source of inspiration. The content of Behrman's notebooks confirms that his use of lite ra tu re did not preclude his use of observations of life. Lawrence Langner elaborated on this point in The Play's The Thing:

S. N. Behrman is an assiduous student of lif e and keeps notebooks in which he writes meticulous descriptions of persons he encounters in the course of liv in g , together with notes of th eir conversation and thoughts, to which he adds his own inspired sense of sharp comedy in delineating his characters.37

Behrman's technique of transforming actual life models into fictional dramatic characters was akin to the process described by the novelist

H. G. Wells:

All novelists use actual experiences in their work. They must know things before they tell about them. But all novelists rearrange, sublimate, intensify. One turns over the sketch-book of one's memories and uses what one needs. One takes a lifte d eyebrow here and a mimosa in flower there. The imagination discovers a certain congruity between some actual situation and some constructive neces­ s ity , and works in as much of the situ atio n as it needs. But it alters and rearranges without scruple. The eyebrow is not a p o rtra it: the parallelism of a s itu atio n is not a report.3°

*3 £ Behrman, "Literature As In sp ira tio n ," in Three Plays By S. N. Behrman (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1934), p. 2^3- ~

^Langner, The Play's The Thing (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, I960), p. 60.

■^H. G. Wells, Preface to The World of W illiam Clissold (New York: George Doran, 1926), p. v i . Behrman's notebooks indicate that the a r t is t ic application of specific literary allusions and life observations was an important element of his dramatic technique.

Behrman had no immediate opportunities to publicly demonstrate the playwriting skills he learned at Harvard. Eleven "inhospitable, jobless years'1^ separated his graduation from college and the first New York production of one of his plays. In 1916 Behrman attempted to find work as a writer on the staffs of several newspapers in New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. His efforts were in vain. Finally, "in desperation" and financed by his older brothers, he enrolled at Columbia University in the Master of Arts program in English. While studying at Columbia,

Behrman met a fellow aspiring dramatist, J. Kenyon Nicholson. Nicholson and Behrman became close friends, and they later collaborated on several short stories and playsAfter graduating from Columbia in

1918, Behrman worked as a typist for the classified ads section of the

New York Times. He was eventually promoted to the book review section and edited the "Queries and Answers" column, but when his supervisors discovered that Behrman had been sending inquisitive (and somewhat facetious) letters to himself, he was fire d . In 1921 Behrman worked

^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 7•

Zf01 bid -

^E ach author had his f ir s t individual success in 1927: Nicholson wi th The Barker and Behrman with The Second Man. Their collaborative e ffo rts were commercial and a r t is t ic fa ilu re s . Bedside Manners was produced at the Threshold Theatre in New York in 1923. Love Is Like That opened at the Cort Theatre on April 18, 1927- Behrman consistently referred to The Second Man as his f i r s t produced play.

^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 9- 20 briefly as a public relations agent for S. E. J. Coxe, a Houston oil financier, who hired Behrman to publicize his Texan oil empire in the

New York press. Coxe soon learned that Behrman's connections with the newspaper world were n egligible, and Behrman returned to New York, where the theatrical producers Crosby Gaige and Edgar Selwyn gave him part-tim e employment as a play reader. From 1918 u n til 1923, Behrman supplemented his meager income by w riting twelve stories for Mencken and Nathan's Smart Set, three articles for The New Republic and one piece for The Liberator. In the winter of 1925, Behrman joined Jed

Harris's production staff as a theatrical press agent, a position he held for approximately one year. In February, 1927, Behrman's lite ra ry agent, Harold Freedman, informed him that he had sold The Second Man to the Theatre Guild. The next ten years of Behrman's lif e were very much unlike the previous decade. Freedman and the Guild were instru­ mental in removing Behrman permanently from sporadic encounters with

th eatrical employment by promoting his rise as one of the most success­

ful commercial dramatists of the 1930's.

In 1925 Behrman was referred to Harold Freedman by the lite ra ry agent Carl Brandt, who was an acquaintance of Behrman's frien d , J.

Kenyon Nicholson. Brandt had recently engaged Freedman to establish a Drama Department at Brandt & Brandt, a company which had previously

handled exclusively non-dramatic literature. Behrman's professional

liasonwith Freedman lasted throughout his entire playwriting career.

Among Freedman's early clients were Robert Sherwood, Maxwell Anderson,

and Philip Barry. Freedman also negotiated productions for Clifford

Odets, Elmer Rice, Sidney Howard, John Osborne, Enid Bagnold, Paul 21

Osborn, and Terence Rattigan.^ Freedman graduated from Columbia

U niversity with a B.S. degree in Chemistry in 1916, but immediately a fte r graduation he joined the Washington Square Players as a play

reader. His early connections proved valuable, because the Washington

Square Players was the matrix of the Theatre Guild. Freedman's re la tio n ­

ship with the Guild often went beyond his capacity as a literary agent.

He inevitably assumed the guise of an adjunct producer. Behrman 1 commented on his agent's extensive activities in his memoirs:

It has been urged against Harold that he preempted the functions of the management, that he was a frustrated producer. He was not; he was a functioning producer. He had a ll the fun without having to bear the ultimate responsibility. . . . He was powerful and he knew it. . . . He loved the theatre. He loved plays. His loyalty to his clients was unflagging. . . . He had a very shrewd notion of the capacities and the lim itations of a ll the producers. He did a ll he could to supplement th eir lim itations. These were sometimes so wide that thev made Harold, force majeure, the virtual producer.^

Although Freedman was never officially an actors' agent, he worked hard

to get certain stars for his clients' plays. Behrman claimed, "Harold

did not represent actors but he cosseted t h e m . "^5 Freedman convinced

Ina C laire to perform in Biography. He persuaded Laurence O liv ie r to

play opposite Katherine Cornell in No Time For Comedy. When Behrman's

plays were scheduled for London productions, Freedman was no less

industrious. He secured Noel Coward for the lead in the London

^New York Times, 16 February 1966.

^Behrman, People In A D iary, pp. 50-51*

ibid., p. 50. 22 production of The Second Man, and he convinced Rex Harrison to play bft O liv ie r's part in No Time For Comedy.

Freedman was not only attuned to the producers' limitations. He knew the literary capacities of his clients as well. During the entire period of Behrman's a f f ilia t io n with the Theatre Guild in the 1930's , the playwright's notebooks confirm that Freedman was an active partici­ pant in the producers' conferences on script revisions. With occasional assistance from his w ife, May, Freedman helped Behrman separate the gold from the dross of the Guild's various suggestions for revisions.

Behrman included a tribute to his agent-collaborator in his memoirs:

His life has been so closely and incessantly intertwined with mine that to omit his would be to d e fo lia te my own. From the day in 19^5 when he began to sell my f i r s t play, to the last day of his life, when he called me at five-thirty in the afternoon to advise me on a perilous project I threatened to embark on, he was omnipresent. In this last conversation he asked me to think over the suggestions he had made; he would call me in the morning to check. In the morning he was gone; he had died in his sleep. For those of us who are not geniuses, but who have talent in various degrees, Harold's existence, his solicitude and his patience were abiding graces of stimulus and s o l a c e . 7

Freedman's negotiations with the Theatre Guild over Behrman's

play The Second Man effected a playwright-producer affiliation that existed sporadically for twenty-two years. The Guild was allied with

twelve of Behrman's plays, more than half of his total dramatic output.

The Theatre Guild was the sole producer of the six plays included in

**6 lbid.

Ib id ., p. 5 2 . this s tu d y .^ In 1938, against Harold Freedman's a d v ic e ,^ Behrman joined Robert Sherwood, Sidney Howard, Maxwell Anderson, Elmer Rice, and John Wharton to found the Playwrights' Company,^0 a produc^na^ ^ ^ organization that Behrman resigned from in 19^-6 because, in short, he discovered what he had long suspected: "playwrights make lousy mana­ gers. "51 The Theatre Guild co-produced Behrman's plays The Pirate

(19^2), Jacobowsky and the Colonel (19^), Dunnigan's Daughter (19^-5),

I Know My Love (19^9), and Jane (1952), but their contractual agreement with Behrman after 1938 was based on strictly financial considerations and excluded the producers' right to exercise rigid artistic control.

When the Guild produced its f i r s t Behrman s c rip t in 1927, i t was

in its ninth season. The Board of Managers for the Guild's f ir s t season in 1919 included Rollo Peters, Philip Moeller, Helen Freeman,

Justus S heffield, Lawrence Langner, Helen Westley, and Lee Simonson.

Maurice Wertheim, who had offered to help underwrite the organization's early losses, joined the Board soon after their first production.

Theresa Helburn was the Guild's play reader. Because of policy

Jed Harris produced Behrman's play Serena Blandish in 1929. Guthrie McClintic produced B rief Moment in 1931- Since Behrman's technique for adaptation differed from his work on original plays, Amph i tryon 38, produced by the Guild in 1937, is also outside of the scope of this study.

^B eh rman, People In A D ia ry , p. 215.

50a history of this organization was written by John F. Wharton, Life Among The Playwrights (New York: Quadrangle, 197^).

5icieveland Amory, ed., Celebrity Register (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), p. kl. 2k disputes, Peters and Freeman resigned their positions within a year.

S heffield le ft to cu ltiv a te a growing law practice. By 1927, Theresa

He 1 burn had been designated as a member of the Board, which then included Langner, Westley, Wertheim, Moeller, and Simonson. Behrman shared a sim ilar academic background with most of the Guild's d ire c to r­ ate. Philip Moeller, who directed all but one of Behrman's plays for the Guild in the 1930's, was an alumnus of Columbia. Simonson,

Wertheim, and Helburn had studied with George Pierce Baker at Harvard and Radc1i ffe .

The cornerstone of the Guild's adm inistration was the process of production by committee. The Board of Managers voted on the acceptance or rejection of each script submitted for production. Their artistic control over their productions extended through the rehearsal period to the play's opening night in New York. Roy Waldau described at

length the specific nature of the Guild's influence on the later stages of the production process:

For a number of years, the Theatre Guild directorate usually followed a policy of holding critical sessions, officially known as managers' rehearsals. These complete run-throughs of coming attractions took place on Sunday afternoons before the regular board meetings, during the last few weeks before an opening. The session came to be known unofficially by various actors as the "death-watch," and it could hardly be morale-boosting to be required to give a performance in a role only partly learned and imperfectly rehearsed before an audience made up of one's employees, who were, to quote Theresa Helburn, "people already familiar with the material, impervious to the stimulus of suspense, s ittin g s ile n t and apparently unresponsive," but armed with ever-ready pencils, scratch pads, flashlights or cigarette lig h ters, which

"^Waldau, pp. 8-10. 25

flickered ominously in the darkened house, "to indulge in the menace of a c r itic a l note." Then, a fte r the cast had been sent home, the managers would converge and deliver their suggestions in no uncertain terms to the director involved (or to the playwright, if he happened to be around). Because their opinions often conflicted, this ritual tended to be heartrending, especially if the criticism was misin­ terpreted as being malicious or destructive. The managers1 rehearsals, nevertheless, were an integral part of the Guild's collective production technique . ^

Lawrence Langner recalled the effect of the Guild's conferences with its playwrights in The Play's The Thing:

As is usually the case where a play requires additional work on the part of the author a fte r the in itia l perfor­ mances, the author, producer, director and others concerned with the production are in the habit of meeting each evening a fte r the performance to discuss what should be done in order to improve the play. At such long conferences a large number of ideas are usually bandied about, some of them good, some bad, some in d iffe re n t, and some positively harmful. An author, if he is at all sensitive, often comes out of such a conference with his mind completely confused. He is at a loss to know what should be done to help the play, and, in fact, which person's point of view he should adopt. This is especially true when the director is a man of prominence and insists on having his point of view prevail. The confusion arising from such a conference may well be such that the author decides to do nothing at all, since the conferees have divided into factions, one group taking one point of view, while another takes the oppos i t e .

There was frequently a considerable amount of disagreement among the

Guild's Board Members about the revisions of Behrman's plays. Behrman's notebooks indicate that he was cautiously selective about following the

Guild's suggestions for revision. He generally gave serious consider­ ation to the advice of Simonson, Moeller, and Langner, and he rarely

53 1 bid., pp. 12-1*1.

^Langner, p. 10*K 26

pursued suggestions by Helburn, West ley, and Wertheim. Waldau singled

out Behrman as the playwright who gained most from the Guild's committee

approach to play product ion. Lee Simonson, in a sarcastic le tte r to

fellow members of the Board, indicated somewhat in d irectly that Behrman was the sole example of th e ir th eo retically best means of production:

Dear Bored: . . . Our revisions of plays are academic— they are always obvious improvements and leave the essential weakness of the script (except in the case of Sam Behrman) exactly where it was at the beginning.^

When Behrman defected from the Guild in 1938, he relinquished the

collaborative assistance that the Board Members had contributed to his

plays. Coincidentally, the timing of Behrman's move to the Playwrights'

Company was concurrent with the disintegration of the Guild's adminis­

tratio n :

Following the 1938-1939 season, Lawrence Langner and Theresa Helburn were responsible for all Theatre Guild policy deter­ minations, with Maurice Wertheim, s till a member of the Board of Managers, acting usually only as an advisor. Alfred Lunt (who was elected to the Board in 1935) tendered his resignation shortly thereafter. The other three "artist" managers, Lee Simonson, Helen West ley, and Philip Moeller, were sometimes called into consultation on script selection, although rarely allowed to participate any more fully than th is .5/

Because of the loss of members through administrative and artistic

d iss a tis fa c tio n , or, in the case of Helen Westley, a growing interest

55Waldau, p. 31-

-^Lee Simonson to the Theatre Guild Board of Managers, 1 December 1937, in Waldau, p. ^95*

57v/aldau, p. 33^- 27

in the motion picture industry, " a fte r the 1938-1939 season, the

'original Guild* ceased to exist.

The present study will examine the relative influences of Daniel

Asher, George Pierce Baker, Harold Freedman, and the Theatre Guild on

Behrman's early development as a playwright. Asher and Baker provided

Behrman with a fundamental means of working. Freedman and the Guild

collaborated largely on the revision of scripts after Behrman had

completed the f i r s t drafts of his plays. The in itia l impetus for the

creation of drama emerged from the playwright's artistic imagination, which was often stimulated by the catalysts of lite ra ry sources and

life observations. Behrman's life models will be discussed only insofar

as they relate to the playwright's specific technique for the develop­

ment of dramatic characterizations, hopefully avoiding what H. G. Wells

called "that favorite amusement of vulgar, half-educated, curious, but

ill-informed people— the hunt for imaginary 'originals' of every cq fictitious character." George Pierce Baker defined dramatic technique

"roughly, as the playwright's ways, methods and devices for getting to

his desired e n d s ." ^ The purpose of this study is to examine the

specific ways, methods and devices employed by S. N. Behrman for the

composition of his six plays produced by the Theatre Guild from 1927 to

1938.

^ I bid., p. 336.

^Wells, p. iv.

k^Baker, p. 1. CHAPTER I I

THE SECOND MAN

Put everything in this play—all your love . . . each character w ill reveal him or herself, each one fine, human, and each one caught. Behrman, The Second Man Notes, p. 7*

The Theatre Guild "discovered" S. N. Behrman through their success­

ful production of his first individual dramatic composition, The Second

Man. Behrman discovered the technique for creating The Second Man in

his first exercise in playwriting for George Pierce Baker's "English 47" workshop: the in itia l assignment was the dramatization of a short

story. ^ In 1919 Behrman wrote a story e n title d "That Second Man" for o The Smart S et, a "magazine of cleverness" edited by H. L. Mencken and

George Jean Nathan. In 192.5 Behrman transformed "That Second Man," his

fifth story for The Smart Set, into The Second Man, a play that yielded

the author his f ir s t commercial success as a dramatist.

The stimulus for the story and the idea for the play were derived

from the same source. In his memoirs, Behrman acknowledged his

^Cecil E. Hinkel, "An Analysis and Evaluation of the 47 Workshop of George Pierce Baker" (Ph.D. dissertation, The Ohio State University, 1963), p. 146.

2 A b rie f history of the magazine was w ritten by Burton Rascoe, ed., The Smart Set Anthology (New York: Reynal & Hitchcock, 1934), pp. x i i i - xl i v .

28 29

inspirational debt to the correspondence of the popular Victorian portrait-painter, Lord Leighton:

1 owe this play to the most tenuous and untraceable of accidents, to the chance reading of a sentence. I have never been able to remember where I read that sentence. It was quoted somewhere, perhaps in a newspaper, perhaps in some literary review, from a letter of Lord Leighton's. The sentence reads: 1. . . for together w ith, and as i t were behind, so much pleasurable emotion, there is always that other strange man in me, calm, critical, observant, unmoved, blase, odious. . . .' I wrote a short story, based on Leighton's second man, which appeared in Mencken and Nathan's Smart Set. One winter, stuck for an idea and jobless, I dramatized this short story. It took me three weeks to write the play and three years for Mr. Freedman to sell it.

Behrman's chronology of the completion and sale of The Second Man is suspect. The dates on both his notes and the f i r s t d ra ft of the s c rip t

indicate that it took him a l i t t l e more than three months, not three weeks, to w rite the play. Harold Freedman negotiated a sale with the

Theatre Guild less than two years a fte r he received the completed play.

In January, 1925, Behrman reviewed the narrative outline and

characters in "That Second Man" and began taking notes on a projected

dramatization of the story. The actual figure of Lord Leighton was not

a model for "Clark Storrey," the fictional hero of "That Second Man."

Behrman did not conduct any research into Lord Leighton's lif e and

career until after The Second Man was produced.^

"That Second Man" is divided into six parts. In part 1, Clark

Storrey, a handsome thirty-year-old writer of second-rate poetry and

3S. N. Behrman, People In A Diary (Boston: L it t le , Brown, 1972), p. 76. 4 Behrman, "Literature As In sp iratio n ," in Three Plays By S. N. Behrman (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 193*0, P~ 243. short fiction, responds to an urgent summons from his friend, "Courtney,1 an unattractive young scientist who has recently gained international fame for his discovery of a new element, "Prohelium." Storrey arrives at Courtney's home to discover that his friend is distressed by the rejection of his proposal of marriage to Monica Grey, a twenty-year-old high-spirited "modern" g i r l . Courtney knows that Monica is interested in someone else, but she has refused to divulge the name of the man she loves. Storrey rather enjoys Courtney's discomfort; he characterizes the scie n tis t as "a plump M alvolio." He has always "a b it envied and rather despised" Courtney for his youth, intellect, fame and fortune.

Courtney's present misery vindicates Storrey's notion that the cold su periority of s c ie n tific men is a myth. Courtney begs Storrey to use his conversational g i f t to persuade Monica to marry him. A fter some consideration, Storrey decides that the best means of inducing Monica to marry Courtney is to apply maternal pressure. Monica's stepmother

likes Courtney and detests Storrey. If she can be convinced that Monica

loves Storrey, then she w ill force her stepdaughter to marry the wealthy scientist. Storrey vows to initiate the plan at once by showering his attentions on Monica. Courtney thanks his friend for his assistance.

He apologizes for calling Storrey away at dawn from a nightlong house party. Storrey leaves Courtney with his assurance that if all goes well

Monica w ill marry him soon.

Part 2 of "That Second Man" is a narration of Storrey's thoughts as he walks through Central Park on his way back to his own apartment.

Storrey is amused by Courtney's implicit trust in him. He reflects on

the m isalliance that would result from a marriage between Courtney and

Monica. In social situations, Courtney is a puritanical bore. Monica, contrarily, is a Bohemian beauty. Reviewing Monica's admirable qualities,

Storrey briefly considers winning her for himself, but he predicts that

"he would probably be unfaithful and Monica would probably be jealous," so he discounts the possibility of marrying her. He speculates on the nature of Monica's revenge after she has spent several tedious months as

Courtney's w ife. "His smile deepens" as-he considers having an a ffa ir with Courtney's bride.

The action of part 3 begins in Storrey's apartment. He has just returned home, and he settles down in his custom-made "w riting chair" to continue work on a new short story. His solitude is interrupted by a telephone call from Monica. She demands to see Storrey immediately, and he quickly schedules a luncheon engagement. He meets Monica in the lobby of the Ritz Hotel, and she suggests that they go to a quiet restaurant to talk. Monica proposes to Storrey over lunch. Storrey is astonished by the apparent seriousness of her proposition. Monica believes that she can transform Storrey from a second-rate author into a great poet.

Storrey is annoyed by Monica's lack of insight into his own glaring

limitations as a writer. He refuses her proposal, and Monica begins to cry. Storrey pacifies Monica by promising to take her for a ride in a hansom through Central Park. Monica g le e fu lly accepts the in v ita tio n .

The action of part k transpires in the hansom cab. Storrey reflects on Monica's proposal. Although he believes that "if he didn't marry

Monica he would never marry anyone," he convinces himself that their marriage would be a disaster. If Monica were rich, he might seriously

consider her proposal, but since she is poor, marriage is beyond the

realm of p o s s ib ility . Storrey is angered by the thought that Monica 32 will eventually marry Courtney, a man who is clearly oblivious to Monica's jo ie de viv re . Monica interrupts her companion's ruminations with the news that she has told her stepmother that she intends to marry Storrey.

Monica threatens to force Storrey into marriage by announcing th eir engagement in the newspapers. Storrey is both amused and annoyed by her

p lo t. He convinces Monica that her stepmother w ill surely disown her if she doesn't agree to marry Courtney. Monica begs Storrey to save her

from marriage to Courtney, but Storrey insists that Monica accept the

scientist's proposal. The conversation lapses into silence. As twilight

falls, Storrey takes Monica in his arms and kisses her.

The action of part 5 takes place a few months la te r, on Monica and

Courtney's wedding day. The setting is Courtney's family estate,

"F a irfa x ," on the banks of the Hudson River. Storrey is Courtney's best

man. As the wedding guests assemble for the ceremony, Storrey has

second thoughts about refusing Monica's proposal. He is convinced that

Monica is wasted on Courtney, and he hates himself for having helped the

scientist to win her. He feels that "in throwing Monica into Courtney's

arms he repressed the finest impulse he had ever had." Storrey also

attributes his depression and anger to his intense jealousy of Courtney:

"he d id n 't want Courtney to have her." The strains of "Oh, Promise Me"

f i l t e r into the garden, and Courtney rushes out of the house to summon

Storrey to the ceremony.

Part 6 of "That Second Man" is a description of Storrey's thoughts

as he watches the Bishop conduct the wedding ceremony. Storrey looks

a t Monica, "standing with her head raised, looking the Bishop square in

the eyes. There was something d efiant in her bearing, something, too, 33 unconquered and unconquerable." His gaze turns to Courtney, "standing limply, his big body looking flabbier than ever, his eyes fixed on the ground." After a few moments, Storrey's depression lifts. His mood changes as he ponders a future a f f a ir with Monica. The story ends with the Bishop's proclamation, . . Let him speak now or forever a fte r hold his peace."-’

In his notes for the dramatization of "That Second Man," Behrman reminded himself to review the poetry of Rupert Brooke. No d ire c t allusions to Brooke's poetry appear in the additional dialogue composed for The Second Man. Behrman's reference to Brooke suggests that the poet's work may have been a source of inspiration for a passage in the short story that was transferred intact to a section of dialogue in The

Second Man.^ The f i r s t posthumous edition of Brooke's collected poems appeared in 1918, approximately one year before "That Second Man" was printed in The Smart Set. One of Brooke's poems, "The Voice," depicts a situation that is similarly expressed in Behrman's description of Storrey's work as a writer. In part 3 of his short story, Behrman described his fic tio n a l author's process and product of creation:

Very comfortably Storrey began to write . . . a faint smile hovering about his lips as he toyed with the words. . . . A

'’Behrman, "That Second Man," Smart Set, November 1919, pp. 73-84.

^Second Man Notes, "Second Series," January 1925, S. N. Behrman Papers, Wisconsin State H istorical Society, Madison, Wisconsin, p. 41. (Hereafter cited as SM Notes) •7 'Behrman, The Second Man, in Three Plays By S. N. Behrman (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1934), act 1, p. 268. few nights before, at a dance at the Seldens, he had taken a walk in the moonlight with a girl; theyhad been dancing and he asked her to go outside with him. They stepped out through the open French windows, crossed the lawn, and walked down a narrow path between high poplars, with the stars quite close, and the moon showing between them. . . . It was a most curious moon, red-bronze in colour, wafer-thin, exquisitely curved, like a tiny scimitar, a shaving of a moon. God, Courtney had said, must be a curious person to fashion such a moon, a butcher with artistic leanings. Or was He an a r t is t suffering from a sadistic atavism? What did she think? The girl thought that it was slightly chilly and hadn't they better go back to the ball-room? They went back to the ball-room. . . . Storrey put the walk and the talk into a poem. While writing he struck off several figures that rather pleased him: one was that the tree-tops looked like hedges in the sky between which the stars grew like buttercups. There was a hint of nostalgia, the waver­ ing suggestion of sensuousness as the man and the g irl stood for a moment on the brink of understanding, then the monologue on the moon breaking the spell.1

Storrey's notes on a poem depicting the "spell" that was broken just a couple was on the verge of "understanding," resembles Rupert Brooke poetic description of a man's unsuccessful attempt at communication i

"The Voice:"

. . . Faint in the pale high solitudes, And washed with rain and veiled by night, Silver and blue and green were showing. . . . And no wind was blowing . . . And I knew That this was the hour of knowing, And the night and the woods and you Were one together, and I should find Soon in the silence the hidden key Of all that had hurt and puzzled me— . . . And suddenly there was an uproar in my woods, . . . The spell was broken, the key denied me, And at length your flat clear voice beside me Mouthed cheerful clear flat platitudes. You came and quacked beside me in the wood. You said, 'The view from here is very good.' '

^Behrman, "That Second Man," p. 78. 35

You said, 'It's nice to be alone a bit.1' And, 'How the days are drawing out.'1 you said. You said, 'The sunset's pretty, isn't it?'

By God.' I wish--1 wish that you were dead.1^

Behrman's in itia l thoughts on the dram atization of "That Second Man" centered on disguising the play's close resemblance to the short story.

He entitled his first draft of the script The Talker and The Mute,^ a descriptive reference to the characters of Clark Storrey and Courtney.

He changed Storrey's name to "Anson H ew lett." Courney became "Sidney

K insoff," and Monica Grey was renamed "Ann Vogt." When Behrman completed

the f i r s t act of the play at the end of January, 1925, however, he

reverted to the original names in "That Second Man." Clark Storrey's

name was varied s lig h tly to "Clarke Storey," and "Monica Grey" was

reinstated. Since Courtney's character in the short story had no stated

surname, Behrman gave the corresponding dramatic character a completely

new name, "Sidney Lowe."^ Behrman considered a number of a lte rn a tiv e

title s for the play: The Cyni cal Pri nee, The Mi rage, The Tame Cat, The

12 Highest Bidder, Quartette, and Grooves. After he reverted to the

character names of the short story figures, Behrman decided that it was

pointless to conceal the identity of his original source. He fin a lly

resolved to "call the play The Second Man." ^

^Rupert Brooke, "The Voice," in The Complete Poems of Rupert Brooke (London: Sidgwick £• Jackson, Ltd., 193*0.

1°SM Manuscri pt # 1 , 7 January 1925, p. 1.

I bid., pp. 1-12.

l^SM Notes, "Second Series," pp. *t-10.

l^ lb id ., p. 3. 36

The most s ig n ifican t change Behrman made in the dramatization of his original short story consisted of the addition of a fourth major char­ acter to the romantic triangle composed of Storrey, Courtney, and Monica

Grey. The new character's function was to serve as a romantic interest for Clarke Storey. The addition of Mrs. Frayne also necessitated some complementary variations from the original scenario of the short story.

All of the action in the first draft of The Second Man is set in

Clarke Storey's apartment in New York City. As the curtain rises, Mrs.

Kendall Frayne is im patiently awaiting the a rriv a l of her lover, Clarke

Storey. Mrs. Frayne is a wealthy widow who began seeing Storey when her husband was a liv e . Now that she is free to marry, Storey showers her with attention. On this particular afternoon, however, Storey has neglected to keep their appointment. Kendall answers a phone call from

Miss Monica Grey and reluctantly takes a message for Storey. Storey finally arrives. He explains that he was delayed by a visiting English novelist who insisted on discussing literature after lunch. Storey laments the Englishman's in a b ility to create anything but neurotic heroines, and he w ittily concludes that "it takes Galsworthy to do nice g ir ls ." Kendall informs Storey of Monica's telephone c a ll and the telephone rings again. Storey answers the call from Sidney Lowe, who demands to see Storey immediately. Storey agrees to meet with him.

When Kendall alludes sarcastically to Monica's affection for Storey,

Storey claims that he views Monica as "a mere c h ild ." Storey proposes to Kendall, but she questions his motive for an offer of marriage.

Kendall asserts that Storey loves her only because she is rich. Storey concedes that Kendall's wealth is attractive, but he also praises her charm and in telligence. He encourages Kendall to jo in him in proving

"the triumph of the loveless marriage." Kendall begins to yield to

Storey's charm when the telephone rings again. The caller is Monica Grey, who insists on seeing Storey immediate1y. Storey informs her that he won't be home that evening, and Kendall hangs up the receiver. Storey explains that Monica called to commiserate with him about her engagement to Sidney Lowe. He proposes marriage to Kendall again, citing his one virtue— honesty. Before Kendall can reply, Storey asks her to leave so that he can speak to Sidney p rivately. He invites Kendall to dine with him that evening in his apartment. Before she goes, Kendall gives Storey a check for five hundred dollars and says that he can repay her when his

"ship comes in ." Kendall leaves, and Storey telephones a nearby restau­

rant to place his order for dinner. Storey passes the time before

Sidney's scheduled arrival by continuing work on his latest piece of

fiction. He sets the mood for "creation" by playing a recording of a symphony by Tchaikovsky. He settles down in a comfortable easy chair,

collects the pages of his manuscript, creates a writing surface by

placing a board across the arms of the chair and lights a cig arette.

Just as he begins to w rite , the doorbell rings. Storey rises and admits

Sidney Lowe. Lowe is " fa ttis h , serious, and he looks unhappy." The

cause of Sidney's depression is quickly revealed. Monica Grey has

returned his engagement ring. She claimed that she loves someone else.

Storey consoles his friend by suggesting that Monica's youth has blinded

her to a mature appreciation of Sidney's scientific brilliance. Sidney

confirms that speculation by alluding to Monica's indifferent reaction

to his recent discovery of the element "Prohelium." Sidney laments his 38

inability to be articulate about his work. He admits that he envies

Storey's g i f t for conversation. Storey agrees to help Sidney win Monica.

He w ill inform Monica's mother of her daughter's refusal to marry Sidney.

He te lls Sidney that Mrs. Grey is anxious for Monica to "marry money."

If Storey can convince Mrs. Grey that he intends to replace Sidney as

Monica's fiance, he is sure that she will force her daughter to marry

Sidney. Sidney regrets the necessity of using maternal pressure to win

Monica, but he agrees to "marry Monica on any terms." Storey then asks

Sidney to leave so that he can finish writing his story. He invites

Sidney to return for dinner. After Sidney leaves, Storey calls Kendall

to change their plans for dinner. He says that he has decided that they

should dine at a restaurant instead of eating at his apartment. He asks

Kendall to call him back in twenty minutes. Kendall agrees. Storey

again settles down to work. The doorbell rings, and Monica rushes into

the room. She greets Storey with an affectionate hug and kiss, but Storey

remains unmoved. Monica picks up a page of his manuscript and proceeds

to read a passage aloud. She praises Storey's literary talent. Storey

stops w ritin g and grabs the manuscript from her hand. He characterizes

his work as "scented dishwater," and he belittles Monica's critical

s e n s ib ilitie s . Storey then demands to know how Monica could be so

foolish as to reject Sidney's proposal. Monica confesses that she loves

Storey, and she begs him to marry her. Storey and Monica then engage in

a lengthy debate about Monica's profession of love. Storey cites his

friendship with Sidney and Monica's lack of wealth as arguments against

his accepting her proposal. He benevolently concludes that he w ill

"save" Monica from a life tim e of unhappiness by refusing to marry her. Storey confesses that he is flattered by Monica's high opinion of his character, but he resists the temptation to take advantage of her naivete. The doorbell rings, and Sidney enters. Monica senses that

Storey arranged for Sidney's arrival to coincide with her visit. The telephone rings, and Storey, speaking to Kendall, pretends that he has forgotten a dinner engagement for that evening. He offers the dinner he ordered to Sidney and Monica. Sidney is ecstatic at the prospect of an evening alone with Monica. Monica is considerably less enthusiastic.

As Storey leaves, Monica hints a t her revenge with the curtain line,

"All right for you, Storey--".

The fi rst scene of Act Two opens two hours la te r on the dessert course of Sidney's dinner with Monica. The evening has apparently not been as successful as Sidney had hoped. He has considerable difficulty

in finding a topic of conversation that appeals to Monica. Monica asks

Sidney where Storey has gone. Sidney reports that Storey had planned to dine with Kendall Frayne. He continues that line of conversation and mentions that he hopes Storey w ill marry Kendall. Monica changes the subject. When Sidney asks why she doesn't want to discuss Storey, Monica

replies, "I despise him." Sidney is pleasantly surprised at Monica's attack on Storey u n til Monica confesses that she actually despises

Storey's misplaced affection for Kendall. She tells Sidney that she is

in love with Storey. Monica then sees the check that Mrs. Frayne gave

Storey in Act One. Sidney is h o rrified that Storey would accept money

from a woman. Monica interprets the check as evidence of Kendall's

successful campaign to buy Storey's love. Since she cannot compete with

Kendall's fortune, Monica rashly accepts Sidney's proposal of marriage. ko

Sidney is overjoyed. Monica begins to cry. The doorbell rings and

Storey enters. Sidney g le e fu lly reports that Monica has agreed to marry him. Storey informs the "happy" couple that Kendall has gone home to change her clothes for a night on the town. He suggests that they cele­ brate the engagement by making it a foursome. Monica reluctantly agrees, and she and Sidney leave to get dressed for th e ir night out. Sidney e xits s lig h tly ahead of Monica, and Monica te lls Storey that she w ill be right back. Storey then phones Kendall to ask i f she can come to his apartment sooner than she had planned. He says that he needs her because he is "in the grip of a peculiar emotion." Storey reminds Kendall to send over some champagne. The doorbell rings and Monica re-enters. She berates Storey for having taken money from Mrs. Frayne. Storey demands that Monica leave his apartment immediately, and Monica senses that he

is attracted to her. Storey takes Monica in his arms and kisses her.

He te lls her that he loves her. He describes the "second man" inside of him that prevents him from experiencing any emotion spontaneously:

"Even now he's looking at me. He's mocking me. He's saying: 'You damn fool, talking nonsense to this girl, pretending that you want her above e veryth in g .'" He advises Monica to go back to Sidney and he warns her

not to return to his apartment alone again. Monica vows to destroy

Storey's "second man." The doorbell rings. Storey tells Monica to

leave the apartment by exiting through his bedroom. A fter Monica goes,

Storey crosses to the door and returns with a hamper of champagne that

Kendall sent over. He removes the lid and discovers a note from Kendall.

The curtain falls as Storey reads Kendall's card: "For a good time for

a l l . " The second scene of Act Two opens two hours la te r. Kendall and

Sidney are waiting for Storey to finish dressing. Monica has not yet

returned to Storey's apartment. Sidney has no difficulty establishing

a rapport with Kendall. He sees Monica's scarf draped across Storey's writing chair and claims that Monica was wearing the scarf when she left

the apartment e a rlie r that evening. Kendall surmises that Monica probably

returned to "tell Storey something," and she advises Sidney against

jumping to conclusions. Kendall assures Sidney that Storey is tru s t­ worthy. As Sidney looks at Monica's scarf, he becomes increasingly

suspicious of Storey's behavior. Storey enters from the bedroom. He

proposes again to Kendall, arguing that their marriage will be thera­

peutic since he w ill have to work harder to support Kendal 1 in the style

to which she is accustomed. Kendall looks at Storey's manuscript, and

she notes that he wrote.only one sentence in the two hours he allegedly

spent alone before she arrived. Storey jokes about the tortures of

creation and pours drinks for everyone. As they lift their glasses in

a toast, the doorbell rings. Storey admits Monica. The foursome

discusses where they should go dancing a fte r they fin is h drinking the

champagne. When Storey proposes a toast to the in s titu tio n of marriage,

Sidney becomes truculent. Storey reacts to Sidney's hostility by

suggesting that they all play the truth game " In vino veritas." Kendall

believes that they should leave to go dancing before anyone gets hurt,

but Sidney obliges Storey by asking Monica why she returned to Storey's

apartment. Monica is caught o ff guard by Sidney's accusations. Sidney

then attacks Storey: "I resent you. I resent your fluency, your gift

of words, your superficial . . . I resent you." Storey volunteers to be the next player in the game of truth and he admits: "I resent Sidney.

I'm jealous of him. I envy his s c ie n tific eminence. I envy him his money. . . . I said to myself: 'Why should, this mole-like creature' — meaning S id n ey--' possess this radiant girl?' ... If I were a cad I

should have an a ffa ir with Monica. 8ut regrettably I'm a Puritan. Can't

help it. It's in my blood." Sidney and Kendall are relieved by Storey's

revelation that nothing happened when he was alone with Monica. Storey

again proposes to Kendall and she accepts. Kendall, Storey and Sidney

prepare to leave for the nightclub, but Monica interrupts them with the

reminder that she has not yet had her turn in the game. She then

announces that Storey is the father of her unborn child. Storey denies

Monica's claim, but Sidney and Kendall are convinced that she is telling

the truth. Kendall leaves the apartment and Sidney follows her out.

There is a long silence. Storey then reacts to Monica’s "trap" with

harsh cynicism. He says he doesn't love her and he knows that they will

be utterly miserable. Monica finally sees that the notion of Storey's

"better self" is a myth. She realizes that Storey's description of

himself as a "mediocrity" was accurate. At the end of the scene, Storey

gently te lls Monica: "You've lost your illu s io n s — now you can begin to

liv e ." Monica replies, "I don't want to now," and she exits as the

curta i n f a l 1s .

Act Three takes place the next morning. Storey is discovered

writing. He rips up the pages of his manuscript shouting "Trash . . .

trash . . . trash." The doorbell rings and Sidney enters. He has spent

the night walking in the rain and he looks miserable. Sidney pulls a

gun out of his pocket and aims it at Storey. Storey tries to behave casually as Sidney berates him for his treatment of Monica. Sidney fires the gun and misses. He collapses into a nearby chair. Storey recovers and pours some Scotch into a glass for Sidney. Depressed by the fa ilu re of his mission, Sidney decides to go home, but he is so weak that he has difficulty standing up. Storey convinces him to lie down for a while on his bed. He helps Sidney walk toward the bedroom and the doorbell rings.

Kendall enters. Storey returns and tells Kendall that Sidney tried to k i l l him. Kendall sympathizes with Sidney. Storey te lls Kendall that

Monica lied about her pregnancy, but Kendall is in no mood to entertain his excuses. She tells Storey that she will be leaving for Europe soon.

She offers to lend financial assistance to Storey and Monica until their child is born. Kendall says that she believes Monica deeply loves Storey even though Storey claims that the situ atio n has changed. Kendall's farewell to Storey is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Storey asks Kendall to answer the door for him and he leaves the room. Monica enters. In a quiet conversation with Kendall, Monica reveals that her attitude toward Storey has changed to indifference. Kendall tells Monica

"You're worse o ff than I am, re ally. You're in love with a man who doesn't e x is t. I'm in love with one who does." Monica assures Kendall that she no longer loves Storey. She confesses that she lied about being pregnant, but Kendall doesn't believe her. Kendall leaves and Storey returns. Monica advises Storey to win Kendall back, but Storey is convinced that Kendall no longer wants him. Storey te lls Monica that he w ill make a sincere e ffo rt to change a fte r they are married, but

Monica refuses to marry Storey. She tells him that she no longer love him. She compares Sidney's simplicity to Storey's complex personality. Storey then reveals that Sidney tried to k i l l him: "He came here in a simple, uncomplicated mood. He's a rotton shot." Monica is shocked by

Sidney's impetuosity. Sidney appears on the landing and Monica rushes over to greet him. Storey exits to get Sidney something to drink. In th eir brief conversation, Sidney finally becomes eloquent as he expresses his love for Monica. Monica is deeply moved. She te lls Sidney that she lied about the baby and concludes: " I f you want me— I'd love, honor and obey you. And I'll try to make it up to you--for the bad time I've given you." Storey returns, and Monica announces that she is going to take

Sidney home. As Sidney and Monica exit, Storey realizes that he has lost Monica forever. Storey pours himself a drink and paces the floor of his apartment. He picks up the torn pages of his manuscript and tries to piece them together. He attempts to write, but he ca ot concentrate.

Finally he picks up the telephone receiver and calls Kendall. He tells her that Monica and Sidney are engaged again, and he begs Kendall to forgive him. He asks her not to go abroad. He pleads with her to dine with him that evening. The conversation ends with Storey's suggestion to Kendall that they go abroad together, and the curtain f a l l s . ^

Behrman revised the f i r s t and second acts of The Second Man as he worked on the third act of the play. The addition of Kendall Frayne made it necessary for him to alter the outcome of the short story scenario. In his notes for Act Three, Behrman wrote: "At the end—

Storrey's jealousy— this cannot be used n o w . "'5 There is no implication

^ SM Manuscript # 1 , 7 January 1925 - 9 March 1925*

^SM Notes, "Act Three," February 1925, P- 1- k5 in The Second Man that Storey w ill have an a f f a ir with Monica a fte r she becomes "Mrs. Sidney Lowe." Behrman created a more appropriate ending that featured the reunion of Storey and Monica with their respective mates, Mrs. Frayne and Sidney Lowe. The playwright's only d iffic u lty in w riting the closing scene of The Second Man was expressed in a note on l £ Storey's final speech: "Save me from sentimentalism over the phone."

The dialogue in The Second Man contains several literary allusions.

Most of the references occur in Clarke Storey's dialogue and emerge logically out of his characterization as a writer. In the first act, when Sidney asks Storey the reason for his low income as a w rite r, Storey responds With a quote from Hamlet (act 2, sc. 2): "I'm caviare to the general, Sidney."^ Storey later compares Sidney's thought processes to

18 the " s ry s ta l1ine" poetry of George Meredith. In Act Two, Behrman gave

Storey a quote from Keats' "Ode To A Nightingale" as a toast:

STOREY: Happy days. . . . (They drink. Quoting.) 'The true, the blushing Hippocrene.' KENDALL: Nothing blushful about Roget. You're colour­ blind, Storey. STOREY: Just an excuse to quote Keats. 'with beaded bubbles working at the brim. . . ."^9

Behrman retained the first-draft allusions to Shakespeare, Meredith, and

Keats in the final version of the play. Storey's f ir s t - d r a f t comparison between the v is itin g English novelist and George Bernard Shaw and a

^1 b id ., p. 16.

^ SM Manuscript #1, p. 7*

I b id ., p. 9*

^ | b i d . , act 2, sc. 2, p. 3- k6 passage of dialogue transferred from the short story regarding Monica's interpretation of St. Augustine's Confessions were deleted from Behrman's handwritten manuscript of the play before the script was submitted to

Freedman.^

Behrman transferred complete sections of narrative dialogue from

"That Second Man" to Storey's initial scenes with Sidney and Monica. He used prose passages from the short story as material for additional dialogue in the dramatization. The following excerpt from "That Second

Man" served as the basis for three sections of dialogue in Act One of

The Second Man:

Storrey walked buoyantly, swinging his cane, a smile playing about his lips. He was thinking of Courtney's complete and almost pathetic reliance upon him: . . . Courtney's discovery had brought him the highest fame in scientific circles, he was elected an honorary F. R. S. in England and had even been mentioned for the Nobel prize . . . And with a ll this Courney had inherited an immense fortune from his father. Courtney had met Monica at a house-party to which his mother had dragged him and the man of science had falle n hopelessly in love at first sight with the beautiful, golden­ haired girl, not, Storrey reflected, as a man of the world falls in love, with a certain genial deprecation of his irrationality, but as an awkward schoolboy falls in love. In Monica's presence Courtney would become tongue-tied: he could do nothing but s ile n tly register adoration. . . . He would s it dumbly staring at her; . . .

Behrman's prose description of Courtney's background was transformed into dramatic exposition in Kendall's first scene with Storey:

KENDALL: Sidney _i_s_ d u ll, Storey. STOREY: Dull.' One of the most promising young chemists in America. Under thirty and he's actually discovered

20lb id ., pp. 1, 11.

21 Behrman, "That Second Man," part 2, p. 7 6 . hi

something new--a new way of doing something or other. He's an F. R, S..' KENDAJ.L: Yes. And a B-O-R-E.22

Behrman's narrative description of Storrey's attitude toward Courtney's dependance on him was the basis for a section of dialogue at the end of

Storey's first-act scene with Sidney:

SIDNEY: . . . You're swell. STOREY: Don't deceive yourself, old boy. I get a sadistic pleasure out of watching you writhe. And your pathetic reliance on me gives me a sense of super ior i ty . SIDNEY: Always joking.' STOREY: It's the grim truth. SIDNEY: You're the fin e s t-- STOREY: Come now Sidney, run along. See you in twenty mi nutes . 3

Storey's prosaic reflections on Courtney's unsuccessful technique as

Monica's suitor were dramatized in Sidney's f i r s t scene with Storey:

STOREY: Take this thing more lig h tly , can't you? You've fa lle n in love like an awkward schoolboy— not like a man of the world. SIDNEY: But I'm not a man of the world. STOREY: Can't you act the base role? When Monica's around you act positively tongue-tied. All you can do is silently register adoration. SIDNEY: I know it . I can't help it . When I do think of something to say it sounds so inadequate to me that I don' t say it. STOREY: If you'd only remember that everything's on your side. You've so much, to o ffe r. SIDNEY: 1 wish I thought so.

Behrman completed the f ir s t d ra ft of The Second Man on March 7,

1925, and he gave a typescript of the play to the new head of the Drama

22SM Manuscript # 1 , January 1925, p. 3-

^ I b id ., p. 8.

2if I b i d. , p. 6. k8

Department of Brandt & Brandt, Harold Freedman. Freedman submitted the play to the Theatre Guild, but they rejected it. Lawrence Langner described Freedman's persistence in The Magic Curtain:

In the year 1926, I was called on the phone by the ubiquitous Harold Freedman who informed me that our playreader, Courtenay Lemon, had returned a play which he thought 1 should read; he added, rather shrewdly, that had I read i L, it would not have been returned. I read the play. It was The Second Man by S. N. Behrman; I liked it enormously, and enthusiastically recommended it to my colleagues. Theresa Helburn and Philip Moeller seconded my enthusiasm for the p l a y . ^5

The Theatre Guild took an option on the play, but in December, 1926, while Behrman was in London working on Jed H arris's production of Broad­ way , he received the following telegram from Freedman:

Guild Unable to Produce Play This Season. Think Can Get Them Renew Option. Maurice Wertheim Wants To See You On Return. No Hurry. Best Harold. 7

Behrman returned to the United States in January, 1927- The Theatre

Guild's production of Jacques Copeau's adaptation of Dostoyevsky's The

Brothers Karamazov opened in New York on January 3, 1927- By mid-Febru­

ary, the Guild was convinced that "the Dostoyevsky had exhausted its 28 drawing power." Behrman met with Maurice Wertheim, who reported that

the Guild wanted to produce The Second Man wi th the Lunts. The producers

scheduled a lim ited seven-week run of The Second Man, which was slated

^Lawrence Langner, The Magic Curtain (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1951), P- 219-

^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 33-

^71 b id ., p. 36.

^®Roy S. Waldau, Vintage Years of the Theatre Guild: 1928-1939 (Cleveland, Ohio: Case Western Reserve Press, 1972), p. 31* ^9 to open cold in New York on April 11, 1 9 2 7 .^ The cast included: Alfred

Lunt as Clarke Storey: Lynn Fontanne as Kendall Frayne; Margalo Gillmore as Mon;ca Grey; and Earle Larimore as Sidney Lowe.

On the morning of February 28, 1927, Behrman and Freedman met with the Lunts and the production committee of The Second Man to discuss possible script revisions. Behrman subsequently made a total of fourteen changes in the original s c rip t. The revisions included name changes, cuts, inserted scenes, supplementary dialogue, and alterations in some stage directions to accomodate added stage business.

Minor revisions included: (l) a change in the character name

"Sidney Lowe" to "Austin Lowe," (2) deletion of Storey's allusion to

Galsworthy in Act One, (3) transformation of the stage description of

Monica Grey as "a Tennysonian ingenue with a Freudian patter" into dialogue for Storey's first-act description of her to Kendall Frayne,

(b) revision of Storey's speech to Kendall Frayne in Act One, from "1 have enormous respect for money which can only be f e lt by those whose youth was poverty-stricken," to "I have enormous respect for money. It can only be f e lt by those whose past was poverty-stricken and whose present— is precarious," and (5) additional comic dialogue about Monica's sensational pregnancy for Storey's phone call to Kendall at the end of the play; "Kendall, I promise you--l absolutely promise you— that if th eir

29Be hrman, People In A D iary, pp. 56-57-

^ SM Notes, "February 28 Meeting." (Handwritten.) 50 baby bears the s 1i ghtes t resemblance to me--thank God, Kendall, you're laughi n g --" .^

Behrman added three passages of additional dialogue to Act One of

The Second Han. The f i r s t insert included indicated business for Monica

Grey and Storey. A fter Monica breaks through Sidney's wall of in d iffe r ­ ence in her in it ia l scene with him, Behrman added the following section of dialogue:

MONICA: Don't you want to kiss me? (He does. She kisses him passionately) Oh, Storey, I'm so unhappy. STOREY Why, d a r1ing? MON ICA Because nobody loves me. STOREY Austin loves you. He's crazy about you. MONICA Oh, don't talk to me about Austin. STOREY Why shouldn't I? MONICA Because he bores me. He bores me to death. I never want to see him again.

Later in the same scene, Behrman added a section of dialoguein which

Monica shows Storey Austin's latest gift to her, a copy of his most recent publication in the Proceedings of the American Chemical Society:

MONICA: Austin's so literal. Absolutely no glimmering of humour. Oh.' This w ill make you laugh--wait t i l l I show you.' STOREY: Nobody in love has a sense of humour.' MONICA: (Holding a magazine) Look what he sent me — With an article by Austin in it--look--here-- STOREY: (Reading) 'A new method of segregating atoms and ions which are chemically sim ilar but have d iffe re n t weights by diffusion--including the separation of radium from the bariurn residues. ' Tells you what to expect, doesn't i t?^

^ Ib id ., "February 28 Meeting" and "Inserts," n.d.

^2lbid., "Insert #2," n.d. .

^Ibid., "Insert #3>" n*d* • 51

The passage continues with Storey's description of Austin's scientific

research as "his lyric." Storey refuses to share Monica's disparaging attitude toward Austin's profession. Behrman transferred the title of

Austin's a r tic le verbatim from an announcement in the New York Times:

Professor James Kendall of the Chemistry department of Washington Square College of New York University, whose investigations of a new method of separating atoms and ions which are chemically sim ilar but have d iffe re n t weights by diffusion has attracted considerable attention, . . . has been elected a Fellow of the Royal Society. . . . Professor Kendall's main work has been the investigation of the properties of solution and the separation of rare earths including the separation of radium from barium residues.-*

Behrman consequently deleted the first-draft references to Austin's dis­ covery of "Prohelium." After The Second Man opened, Alfred Lunt occasion­ ally neglected to read the title of Austin's article as indicated by

Behrman's dialogue. He chose, rather, to read the t i t l e of an a rtic le

that was printed in the r e a lis tic stage prop, an actual Journal of the

American Chemical Society. Lunt's improvisation e lic ite d the following

response from one member of the audience:

"Mr. S. N. Behrman "The Theatre GuiId "New York, New York

"Dear Sir:

Just two days before the close of your play 'The Second Man', it came to my attention that I was in some degree a co-author. I refer to your use of my paper published in the Journal of the American Chemical Society last February. Mr. Earle Larimore sometimes read my a r tic le and sometimes some other. He evidently opened the magazine and read the f ir s t

3^New York Times, 22 February 1927, p. 3- 52

title that struck his eye...... You should have warned us what was coming. You needn't have been afraid of a demand for royalties. A couple of passes to the show would have settled it . And then, of course, you should have given us due cre d it in the program. Along with 'Hosiery by Van R aalte1 and 'Draperies by I. Weiss and Sons' you could have placed 'S c ie n tific A rticles by Schumacher, Ferguson and others'. This thing you have done is the cause of very serious trouble in these otherwise quiet laboratories. All the engineers and scientific men down here are rewriting their technical publications with a view to th eir being used in th e a tric a ls . I, myself, am going to w rite my next paper in the form of a movie scenario, and when our d irecto r of research finds it out, there'll be hell all around. Science is bound to suffer, although I must confess that theatricals will be improved by the injection of science into them. That is what makes your play so good.

"Yours for scientific joy, "Lawrence Ferguson" "Co-author of the 'Second Man'.

"P.S. Thanks for the Buggy Ride.-^

Behrman probably saved Ferguson's letter not because the scientist nearly detected his technique of borrowing from literary sources, but rather because he enjoyed Ferguson's mistaken identification of Alfred Lunt as

Earle Lari more.

Behrman's final revision in Act One consisted of supplying a more

comic ending for the fin al scene. In the rew rite, Storey suggests that

Austin should apply his skill at mixing chemicals to preparing cocktails

for his dinner with Monica. Austin exits into the kitchen while Monica

threatens Storey with revenge for his plot to reunite her with Austin.

Storey exits, and Austin returns carrying a cocktail shaker and closes

the act with the line: "--do you put absinthe or do you put vermouth--?'^

^^Letter, Lawrence Ferguson to S. N. Behrman, 13 October 1927, S. N. Behrman Papers.

^SM Notes, "Insert itk," n.d. . 53

Behrman made four changes in Act Two. The f i r s t revision involved inserting a section of dialogue that depicted Austin's attempt to enter­ tain Monica by reading to her from Bertrand Russell's Mysticism and

Logic.37 the outset, Monica is enraptured by Austin's expressive reading. Her mood changes as Austin continues:

AUSTIN: (Reading) 'Remote from human passions, remote even from the p it if u l facts of nature, the generations have gradually created an ordered cosmos, where pure thought can dwell as in its natural home, and where one, at least, of our nobler impulses can escape from the dreary e x ile of the actual w o rld .'. . . Monica.' You're crying.' MONICA: I wish J_ could do that.' AUSTIN: What? MONICA: Escape from the dreary e x ile of the actual world. AUSTIN: A ren't you happy, Monica? MONICA: Not very. Why don't you marry somebody else, some­ body worthy of you? AUSTIN: Whom? MONICA: That awfully clever girl. You know, that girl I met you w ith. You told me that she was a research chemist. . . . She seemed awfullynice. AUSTIN: She _is nice. MONICA: And I suppose she adores you. AUSTIN: Yes. She does like me. MONICA: There you are.1 AUSTIN: No. MONICA: Why not? AUSTIN: For one thing— she knows too much for me. MONICA: Ho.' Vain.' AUSTIN: She wears woolen stockings. MONICA: Ah, Austin, you are a funny man. I believe you're quite serious. You've no sense of humor, Austin. Sometimes — it 's d e lic io u s .3

Behrman's second revision in the f i r s t scene of Act Two consisted o f an additional speech for Storey that detailed the circumstances of his past.

The playwright's insert read:

37B ertrand Russell, Mysticism and Logic (New York: Longman's, Green & Co., 1921), p. 60.

3^SM Notes, "Insert #5," n.d. . 5k

STOREY: Did I ever te l! you what my youth was—what my parents were? Grubby people hoarding th e ir pennies, denying me even the l i t t l e they could give me. I was born in a shanty in back of a railroad yard in a New England m ill town--the place was black— . . . Something snapped. I think I remember the day it happened--the very day. I was w ritin g on a newspaper— (story of 6 0 -yr-old anonymous editorial writer—gifted— who refuses job to shout for imperialism for millionaire publisher.39

The final version of The Second Han indicates that Behrman subsequently

revised Storey's speech. He deleted the references to Storey's penurious childhood and added allusions to his youthful idealism:

STOREY: I went though the id e a lis tic stage. I used to sit in a garret and believe in Socialism. I used to commit realistic fiction and moonlit poetry. I dreamed— . . . I dressed badly and followed the Cults. It didn't take me long to find out how easy it is to starve on Idealism. I had facility and there was a ready market for f a c ilit y . I got five thousand dollars for writing a whitewashed biography of a millionaire sweatshop owner. That started me. . . . I took the money and went to It a ly — and I had a very good time.

In the second scene of Act Two, Behrman added a few lines that

heightened Austin's violet reaction to the announcement of Monica's

pregnancy.^ His final revision was a rewrite of the end of the act.

The original version featured Storey's reflective reaction to Monica's

loss of innocence: "You've lost your illu s io n s — now you can begin to

live." In the revised version of the final scene, Storey's unrelenting

39|bid., "Insert //6," n.d. .

^Behrman, The Second Man, act 2, sc. 1, p. 297*

^ I b i d . , act 2, sc. 2, p. 31^- 55 cynicism drives Monica to the verge of hysteria. Storey tortures her with a portrait of their future life together:

STOREY: . . . I can see us now--five years from now--in a cheap flat--you looking blowsy--with little wrinkles under your eyes--and I in cheap shirts and cracked shoes--brooding in a room over the corpse of my genius. . . . Well, I ' l l marry you— but the joke's on you. . . . You can't have lif e on your own terms, Monica. I can't. Nobody can. MONICA: I see I can 't. . . 1 STOREY: I ' l l marry you, Monica— but the joke's on you.

For the action of Act Three, Lynn Fontanne requested the addition of a pantomimic scene to be placed a fte r Austin's attempted murder of

S to re y .^ In the insert, Storey leads Austin into his bedroom, and

Kendall enters. She spies the gun on the table and she picks up the

torn pages of Storey's manuscript. The thought crosses her mind that

Storey has attempted to commit suicide. Storey returns, and the scene picks up with his revelation that Austin tried to kill him.^

Behrman also added dialogue to the end of the th ird -a c t scene between

Monica and Kendall. In the first draft, Kendall left the apartment

before Storey re-entered the room. Behrman altered the scene to allow

for Kendall's exit to overlap with Storey's return. Storey and Monica exchange "Hellos" and Kendall responds with her "Good-bye.

^Ib id ., act 2, sc. 2, pp. 315-316.

^ SM Notes, "28 February 1928."

^Behrman, The Second Man, act 3, p* 322.

^Ibid., act 3, p. 326. 56

Late in the rehearsal period of The Second Man, the d irecto r, P hilip

Moeller, suggested a fin al series of re v is io n s .^ Moeller's proposed changes corroborated Behrman's later claim that the director's "great

love was music; he studied scores and he was animated, when directing a play, by ideas of counterpoint and harmonic s tr u c tu r e ." ^ Moeller suggested replacing Storey's v ic tro la , which he used only once in the first act of the original draft, with a piano that could be played alternately by Storey and Kendall. Consequently, in Act Two of the final version of the play, Storey is depicted accompanying himself on the piano as he mocks Monica's o ffe r to be his helpmate with the improvised ly ric k8 from a popular song, "With me by your side to help you— Storey

repeats his rendition of the ly ric a fte r Monica's announcement of her

pregnancy in the closing scene of Act Two. The published stage direction

indicates Moeller's dramatic intention:

STOREY: (He sits at the piano and plays, singing rather savagely the improvised catch) 'With me by your s i de to he 1 p you.' 1 MONICA: Storey--stop.' (But he plays on, c ru elly, in an ecstasy of se1f-revealment--she huddles in a chair to escape the fla g e lla tio n of sound, and the curtain falls.) ”

Moeller also added music to the opening of the second scene in Act

Two. The stage direction at the rise of the curtain reads:

^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 7 8 .

^7 Ibid.

48 Behrman, The Second Man, act 2, sc. 1, p. 297-

^ I b i d . , act 2, sc. 2, p. 316. 57

Mrs. Frayne is discovered at the piano. She is playing the waltz from Strauss' "Rosenkavalier." After a moment she stops and then plays a few bars of a popular sentimental song from music on the piano.5^

Kendall's rendition of "a popular sentimental song from music on the piano" contributcu to the leit-motif of the characters' expressions of sentim entality that Moeller sought to establish musically throughout the action in the second act of The Second Man.

The Second Man opened at the Guild Theatre on April 11, 1927, to favorable review s.The only negative criticism of the play was provided by Alexander Woollcott."^ Lawrence Langner discussed Woollcott's review

in The Magic C urtain:

A fter the success of The Second Man, Alexander Woollcott scornfully depicted Behrman as a small boy standing outside a sta te ly mansion and peeking in at the windows to learn how life was lived by the upper crust. Woollcott, who peeked into many windows himself, intended his remark to be derisive, but in fact it was complimentary. Had Sam been born in a s tately mansion, he might have been blind to the vested injustice and intolerance against which, unlike W oollcott, he wielded his sharpened pen.-^

Woollcott's remarks must have carried a special significance for Behrman,

considering his la te r reflections on the decade of the 19301s in his

memoi rs :

It was a vertiginous time. I found myself in a millstream of gregariousness in New York and in London: incessant

5°lbid., p. 2 9 9 .

5^A survey of c ritic a l opinion is included in John L. Nydegger, "A Critical Analysis of the Original Dramatizations of S. N. Behrman" (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Denver, 1969).

52Be hrman quotes Woollcott's review in People In A D iary, p. 82.

53 La ngner, The Magic Curtain, p. 220. 58

contact with great theatre stars, with rich people and social people, at posh hotels, at parties, and on yachts. But through i t a ll I never shook o ff the p lain tive counterpoint of my origins, the memory of my parents, . . . and their poverty.-3

Behrman's fin a l revision of The Second Man was executed in deference to Lynn Fontanne. In his memoirs, Behrman wrote:

It has been said of Lynn--or used to be--that by an act of will she converted herself from a rather awkward though interesting-looking young girl, into one of the great beauties of the s tag e.55

Behrman's original stage description of Mrs. Kendall Frayne included the phrase, "Rich, homely g irl—oldish and pathetic."5° The published stage description reflected Miss Fontanne's contribution to the role:

She is t a l l , handsome, b e a u tifu lly dressed woman, about thirty-five. She might be described as "majestic"' she has a fine face; her voice is b e a u tifu lly modulated even when she speaks under the stress of deep feelin g . '

Behrman apparently revised the original description of Kendall Frayne in

The Second Man to accommodate the "second woman" in the persona of Lynn

Fontanne.

Behrman's dramatic technique for The Second Man was largely a con­

tinuation of his playwriting apprenticeship under the tutelage of George

Pierce Baker. The process of creation was e ssen tially a demonstration of

Baker's method for dramatizing prosaic material from a short story.

Behrman's experience with the Theatre Guild added a new dimension to his

•^Behrman, People In A D ia ry , p. 82.

55ibid., p. 86.

5&SM Notes, "Act One," January 1925, p* 3.

57 Behrman, The Second Man, act 1, p. 2 h l . technique. For the first time in his professional career, Behrman was forced to accommodate the actors' demands for added business and the director's suggestions for supplementary details of characterization.

Behrman's a f f ilia t io n with the Guild on The Second Man marked his i n i t i ­ ation into the Guild's collaborative production process.'*® The e ffe c tiv e transition of The. Second Man from the script to the stage necessitated

Behrman's willingness to concede to the demands of his producers. The playwright's notes for The Second Man include a total of twelve new scenes, marked "Inserts," that Behrman composed during the period of revision. Only six of Behrman's twelve revised scenes were subsequently

incorporated into the final version of the play. Behrman apparently achieved an effective balance between his position as "author" and his producers' view of the playwright as "collaborator." Behrman's ability to assimilate his producers' criticisms and reconcile their demands with his individual a r t is t ic judgement proved to be an essential c rite rio n for the dramatist's future collaborations with the Theatre Guild.

^ The notes for The Second Man do not indicate the producers' in d i­ vidual contributions to the rewriting process. The producers' suggestions are cited collectively as "Guild Conference." CHAPTER I I I

METEOR

I am afraid that by getting too much melodrama into the play, I may vitiate its genuine quality, its genuine appeal. Behrman, Meteor Notes, "First Series," p. 9*

The failure of Behrman's second play for the Theatre Guild, Meteor,

a re a lis tic drama in which a modern "Napoleonic" stock broker is deluded

by his " te rrib le g if t " of prophecy into trusting too much in his own

infallibility, was, ironically, the playwright's first artistic and

commercial "Waterloo." Although Behrman wrote five versions of the

play before its New York premiere, a survey of the playwright's notes

from September 29, 1925, the date of his f ir s t observations on the play,

u ntil December 23, 1929, when Meteor opened at the Guild Theatre to

generally unfavorable c ritic is m , demonstrates that the en tire process

of revision was largely a case of too l i t t l e , too late. Most of the

changes made in Meteor attacked inconsistencies in the details of

structure and characterization. Behrman failed to revise the play's

central d if f ic u lt y , the dramaturgical problem incurred by the creation

of a clairvoyant protagonist.

Writing from the perspective of forty-five years of hindsight,

Behrman cited his inspirational source for the protagonist of Meteor

in his autobiography:

Charles A. Beard, in The History of American C iv iliz a tio n (sic), which I was reading when I wrote this play, dilates on the extraordinary profusion of m illionaires who appeared

60 at that time: 1920-1929- The character was a young man with a "ghetto" v i t a lit y from the meanest background who pinned a grandiose name onto himself--Raphael Lord--and who persuaded himself that he had the gift of clairvoyance.^

While Behrman may have had that school of young financiers in mind when he started his work on Meteor, it is unlikely that Beard's book was a d ire c t inspiration, since Behrman's early notes on the play predated the publication of Beard's text by two years. The first scenario for

Meteor was w ritte n in September, 1925- Beard's book was not published until 1927.2

The working t i t l e for Meteor through the f i r s t two versions of the script was The Terrible Gift--A Metaphysical Melodrama. Behrman referred to his hero (later named "Raphael Lord") simply as "t.g."

(after the title) in his notes: "t.g." became "John Hall" in the first two drafts of the play. The playwright's notion to create a character with the g if t of clairvoyance sprang not from contemporary essays on

American mi 11ionaires, but rather from Behrman's own interest in Henri

Bergson's theories of time and Thomas C arlyle's views on Napoleon.

Contemporary America was to be the m ilieu of The T errib le G i f t , but the essential characterization of the play's hero was drawn from Behrman's

immersion in the vagaries of those two authors' imaginations. In his e arly notes for the f ir s t d ra ft of The Terrible G i f t , Behrman indicated his inspirational debt to Henri Bergson:

^S. N. Behrman, People in A Diary (Boston: L it t le , Brown, 1972), p. 87. 2 Charles A. Beard and Mary R. Beard, The Rise of American C i v i l i - zation (New York: Macmillan, 1927)* 62

Bergson imagines — for the sake of his metaphysical spec­ ulations— a world in which the en tire past of the Universe is spread out--"!ike a fan"—simultaneously with the present. Why can ! imagine this situ atio n as the basis for my own imaginative work?^

Behrman expanded Bergson's concept to include the future, and his own

"metaphysical melodrama" consequently featured a protagonist with the g if t of prophecy. John H a ll's " g if t ," however, was to be of question­ able value. His clairvoyance became a curse rather than a godsend.

Behrman continued his speculations on the plight of his visionary in

the note: ~ v What I want to get in is sorrow and tragedy of the fu tu re—we a ll know— but it 's vague, unexpressed, etc. — but knowing d efinitely.' . . . People think if only they could read the future--but the future known is terrible, bleak, devoid of romance, a menace.

Another passage in the manuscript notes for the play included the

playwright's command to himself, "Read Carlyle Heroes and Hero Wor­

ship. He later reminded himself that he had previously studied

Carlyle's essay when he wrote his master's thesis on Lord Morley's

criticism.^ The corresponding note for The Terrible Gift was "Read

Morley on Carlyle . . . look up your own essay on Morley."7 C arlyle's

Terrible Gift Notes, "Act III and IV," n.d., S. N. Behrman Papers, The Wisconsin State H istorical Society, Madison, Wisconsin. (Hereafter cited as T. G. Notes: Typewritten, unless otherwise indicated).

^T. G. Notes, " F irs t S eries," 29 September 1925, P* 1.

5 |b id ., n .d ., p. 6. (Handwritten.)

^Behrman, "Lord Morley As A Literary C r itic ." (M.A. Thesis, Columbia University, 1918), p. kO.

^T. G. Notes, n .d ., p. 9- (Handwritten.) 63 published lectures, Heroes and Hero Worship, gave Behrman the Napoleonic bent for his characterization of John Hall. Allusions to Hall as o Napoleon occur five times in one published version of Heteor. Behrman also wrote an essay e n title d "Napoleonism: 1929" that appeared as a

preface to Meteor in a collection of his plays published in 193^.^

Passages from the lecture on Napoleon in Heroes and Hero Worship also seem to have inspired speeches describing the protagonist of Behrman's

play. Carlyle wrote of the Emperor:

There was an eye to see in this man, a soul to dare and do. He rose naturally to be the King. All men saw that he was such. . . . But the fatal charlatan-element got the upper hand. He apostatized from his old faith in Facts, took to believing in Semblances; . . . The man was 'given-up to the strong delusion, that he should believe a lie ;1 a fearful but most sure thing. He did not know true from false now when he looked at them,--the fearfulest penalty a man pays for yielding to untruth of heart. . . . What a paltry patchwork of theatrical paper-mantles, tinsel and mummery had this man wrapt his own reality in, thinking to make it more real thereby. . . . Having once parted with Reality he tumbles helpless into Vacuity; no rescue for him.^®

The dialogue of Ann Carr, the wife of Behrman's Napoleonic prophet

in Meteor, echoed Carlyle's sentiments in descriptive speeches concern­

ing her husband's character:

Ann: There's a touch of charlatanism in everything you do. It seems to be impossible for you to do anything without ostentation.

Ever since I've known you, something in you has frightened me, some essential--disharmony. This myth of greatness you fed yourself—and the reality.

^Behrman, Meteor, in Three Plays by S. N. Behrman (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 193^-), pp. 1^2; 185; 207; 213; 215*

9 1 bid., pp. 111—113-

lOThomas C arlyle, Heroes and Hero Worship (Philadelphia: Henry Altemus, 1899), pp. 319-323. 64

Your words--and your deeds. I've always fe lt some deep fallacy in your career, some dishonesty, some lie . But I shut my eyes to it . . . . But today-- this afternoon, I saw that my instinct about you was rig h t. It appears you are not above the vicissitudes of morality. You area clever, cunning man, who has overreached his cleverness, and s till you ta lk of your strength and your revenges and your freedom. I can see where this freedom w ill lead, to other lies and other slaveries.^

Behrman also used a quotation from a le tte r w ritten by Napoleon as a young man for an epigraph on both the f ir s t d ra ft manuscript and the published title page of the acting edition of Meteor: '"Only one

1 2 resource is le ft to me, to become an absolute e g o is t.1 NAPOLEON."

With the basic characterization of his protagonist in mind, Behrman proceeded to set his prophetic hero into the action of a play. He began

taking notes on a possible scenario and additional characters in Sep­

tember, 1925* A brief outline on the first page of his Notes for The

Terri ble G ift indicated the intended direction of the action as seen

from the viewpoint of the central character:

Anticipates the death (of the rival for the g i r l ) - - . . . and it happens at the end of Act One. He becomes a m illio n ­ aire, but unhappy--afraid of his own premonitions— . . . that fact that he himself will know when he is to die-- k ills him --at the end of the second act he knows i t — and at the end of the th ird --o r during th ird , that time passes and it doesn't happen—or first stock failure and he is happy, and at the end of the play he sits down to te ll his wife all about it—she can't understand why he is so happy at his stock losses.^

^Behrman, Meteor, act 2, p. 184; act 3, sc. 2, p. 233-

Ibidem, Meteor (New York: Brentano's, 1930).

^3t . G. Notes, "F irs t Series," 29 September 1925, P* 1* 65

He decided that the f ir s t act should revolve around a widowed mother's preparations for the marriage of her daughter (later named Ann Carr) to a young man who has concealed the fact that he is term inally i l l . John

Hall would anticipate the bridegroom's death at the end of Act One, and he would eventually hypnotize the girl into marrying him. Behrman summarized the details of the action of the play as follows:

Act One--the wedding Act Two— She submi ts to Fate Act Three--Doom , Act F o u r--F u lfi1lment

The next character Behrman added was that of an elderly Doctor, a friend of Ann's deceased father, who would serve as a confidant to Hall and his w ife. Two subsequent additions to the cast lis t included a poor young couple who would la te r p ro fit from H a ll's generosity. Behrman told himself to "make them a cheerful obligato, healthy and happy youth, to the sombre current of the p la y ."'-’ The male partner in this love-match became the bride's brother, who would later idolize his benefactor, John Hall, as a financial genius. In order to satisfy the generic demands of The T errible G ift as a melodrama, Behrman fin a lly created the villainous character of the brother of the dead bridegroom in Act One. He detailed the villain's projected relationship with Hall in the note:

Make this brother malevolent--a bastard—and he's laying for him—and yes, he finds out premonition and makes it good— and is prevented— ah archimedes— Yes, that might be

'^Ibid., p. k.

'5 1 bid., p. 9. 66

interesti ng--brother of the bridegroom wljig hates him, but conceals it—gains his confidence. . . .

Of the antagonism between this malevolent brother and the hero, John

Hall, Behrman later wrote: "Yes--that's exci ting--that's melodrama."^

Behrman reviewed his list of eight characters and decided that the mother would " re a lly prove to be dispensable,"^ since she was necessary only for the dramatic business in Act One involving the wedding arrange­ ments. He consequently resolved to "show the Bride an o r p h a n , " ^ and he replaced the mother with a less obligatory fig u re, Ann Carr's aunt,

Selena Goodhue.

With his dramatis personae set, Behrman proceeded to w rite a

lengthy prose scenario of The Terrible G ift, a project that was briefly

interrupted by some advice from a friend concerning a change in the elderly doctor's characterization, which also necessitated a revision

in the doctor's eventual relationship with Hall:

Make the doctor, Madden's suggestion, a famous psychia- t r is t - - a sp ecialis t in mental diseases. His skepticism . . . doctor believes that his belief in his own clairvoyance has given him the confidence to achieve all this.

"Madden" was probably Richard J. Madden, a lite ra ry agent for the 21 American Play Company and a close friend of Eugene O 'N e ill. Behrman

l 6 lb id ., p. 7-

17t . G. Notes, "Act Two," n .d ., p. 1.

l^T. G. Notes, "F irs t S eries," 29 September 1925, P» 9*

^91 b id ., p. 10.

201bid., p. 12.

21 New York Times, 10 May 1951, p. 31. considered the advice of his first collaborator on The Terrible G ift, and he quickly incorporated Madden's suggestion into his plot and characterizations.

The scenario sets the action of the play in Act One in the upstairs

living room of an old house in New Jersey, about fifty miles from New

York C ity. Selena Goodhue, the owner of the house, is making last- minute preparations for the impending marriage of her orphaned niece,

Ann Carr, to Sherman Maxwell, a young Standard Oil Company executive described by Mrs. Goodhue as "a smart young man and a good match for any g i r l . " Ann Carr, dressed in her wedding gown, is obviously not the picture of contentment on this, the happiest day of her life. The first wedding guest, Dr. Avery, a noted neurologist, arrives. He serves as a surrogate father to the Carr children and Was a close friend of their father, a former professor of psychology. Ann tells Dr. Avery that her marriage w ill be a " s a c r ific ia l" one. She really doesn't love Sherman, but she has decided that i f she marries him, then she w ill be able to provide for the education and marriage of her younger brother, Douglas

Carr. Douglas loves, but cannot afford to marry, his childhood sweet­ heart, Phyllis Pennell. Avery discovers that Ann has been having

trouble sleeping due to melancholic thoughts about her deceased mother's

probable view of the marriage. Avery consoles Ann, and his exit coin­

cides with the entrance of Ann's fiance, Sherman Maxwell, and his

brother, Curtis. Curtis believes that Ann is really in love with his

brother's business associate, John H all, and he warns Sherman that Ann

is marrying him for his money. Sherman replies that he doesn't care about Ann's motives as long as she w ill marry him. Curtis then ques­

tions his brother about his recent visit to a physician, and Sherman 68 discloses the fact that he has a heart disease. When Curtis asks if anyone else knows about the ailment, Sherman reveals that John Hall

knew of his appointment with the doctor but did not know the results of the examination. Ann returns, and Sherman tells Curtis to go down­

stairs to chat with the m inister. Sherman then presses Ann for a

profession of love, but Ann truthfully tells her fiance that since he

has been away on business in China, he has become a stranger to her.

Ann begins to cry, but Sherman g lib ly assures her that her misgivings

about the marriage are unfounded. A telegram arrives from John Hall wishing the couple future happiness. Sherman exits with a contemptuous ep ith et for H all, and Mrs. Goodhue reports that the wedding ceremony

can begin soon. Hall then arrives. He te lls Avery of his premonition

that Maxwell is seriously ill. He discloses his fear that Sherman will marry Ann without telling her of his ailment. He threatens to disrupt

the ceremony i f he cannot convince Sherman to te ll Ann the tru th . Hall

then speaks p rivately to Sherman and Curtis. Sherman believes that his

doctor has told Hall everything about his illn ess, and in the course

of their conversation, he divulges the specific nature of his ailment—

heart disease. Sherman insists, however, that his condition is not

serious, and he accuses Hall of trying to steal Ann away from him. Hall

and Sherman quarrel b itte r ly . The "Wedding March" is then heard from

downstairs, and Sherman and Curtis exit to take their places for the

ceremony. Hall stops Ann on her way downstairs, but before he can

divulge the news of Sherman's illn ess, cries are heard from below, and

Ann rushes out to investigate. The first-act curtain falls on Hall's

f a t a lis t ic disclosure, "Sherman Maxwell is dead." Act Two opens one year la te r on a living room in a beautiful house

in the East Sixties in New York City. Hall has become successful using

his "terrible gift" to predict and capitalize on fluctuations in the

stock market. Ann's brother, Doug, is Hall's assistant, and he has

recently married Phyllis Pennell. At the-rise of the curtain, Curtis

Maxwell, who is now H a ll's employee, and his cousin, Edgar Mull in, are waiting for H a ll's a rriv a l to conclude plans on th e ir la te s t business

venture, the purchase of land for o il speculation in Algeciras, a

politically-troubled country in South America. They discuss Hall's

miraculous rise in the business world, but Curtis fa ils to share M ullin'

enthusiasm for H a ll's success. He blurts out his conviction that Hall

was somehow responsible for his brother's death, and he reminds Mull in

that their mission is to ruin Hall fin a n c ia lly from w ithin his own

organization. Hall then arrives with Doug, and the four men discuss

Maxwell's future trip to scout sites for oil fields in South America.

Hall then sends Curtis and Mull in upstairs to w ait for him, and Doug,

suspicious of Maxwell's aloof behavior, warns Hall not to entrust any

s ig n ific a n t business deals to Curtis. Phyllis then enters with Ann

and Dr. Avery. Hall has invited them to New York for a belated cele­

bration in honor of Doug's wedding. Phyllis begs Hall not to send her

husband to South America. Doug protests, but Hall changes the subject

by presenting the couple with a belated wedding g i f t . He shows them

the plans for a new house he has purchased for them, complete with

furniture and a full staff of servants. Ann is clearly impressed by

H all's generosity, and she leaves the room with Doug and P hyllis, who

are anxious to phone about arrangements for seeing th eir new home. Hall uses his time alone with Avery to t e ll the doctor more about his

"terrible gift." Avery assures Hall that his clairvoyance is merely a form of wish-fu1f i 1lment that gives him the self-confidence to realize his ambitions, but Hall insists that the gift has nothing to do with psychology. He te lls the doctor of his plans in Algeciras, but Avery, having read of the project in a newspaper published by a p o litic a l

reactionary named Vining, suggests that Hall is exploiting a developing nation for financial gain. Hall then discloses that his gift sometimes

frightens him, a remark that prompts Avery to recall H all's prediction of Sherman's death. Avery asks i f Hall has ever told Ann of the events preceding her intended marriage to Sherman. Hall answers "No," remarking

that he intends to marry Ann and would be afraid of losing her if he disclosed the truth about his clairvoyance. Hall then leaves to conclude

his business meeting with Maxwell and M ullin, and Ann chats b rie fly with

Avery about H all's kindness to Doug and Phyllis. Avery leaves the room to

look at the lib ra ry in H a ll's mansion, and Curtis then enters for a con­

frontation with Ann. He accuses her of being a cheap s lu t, who was

interested in his brother for his money. He claims that she will betray

Sherman by marrying his rival. Curtis further tells Ann how Hall was

responsible for Sherman's death. Ann replies that she has no intention

of marrying Hall, and she pacifies Curtis by telling him that she will

speak p rivately to Hall about the circumstances of Sherman's death.

Hall then returns with Mullin, and he sends him off with Maxwell. Ann

te lls Hall about Maxwell's accusations, but Hall denies having been the

cause of Sherman's heart attack. He says he knew of Maxwell's illness

via conventional means, and he claims that he visited her house on the day of the wedding only to protect her from Sherman's lies. Ann believes

H a ll, who then proposes marriage. Ann neither accepts nor refuses him,

but she suggests that a refusal would be tantamount to resisting Fate.

Hall quietly agrees. They are then joined by Avery, Phyllis and Doug, who invite them to leave to see th eir new home. Hall excuses himself due to pressing business matters. As Ann, Phyllis, and Doug exit, Doug warns Hall again about the danger of trusting Maxwell, but Hall assures

him, "Don't worry--l‘m armoured." Hall, left alone with Avery, reveals

that he again couldn't tell Ann about his prediction of Sherman's death,

and when Avery asks "Why?", Hall brings down the second-act curtain with

the lines, "I don't know, Doctor. I--I was afraid."

Act Three opens on the same setting one year later. Hall and Ann

are married. Hall is s t i l l under attack for his controversial invest­

ments in Algeciras, and a business competitor, Longwood, has formed a

conspiracy with Vining and Maxwell to destroy Hall's business. The

curtain rises on a scene between Ann and Dr. Avery in which Ann d is­

closes that the past few months have not been happy ones. She reports

that her husband drinks heavily, and she confesses having f e lt something

"intangible" that has kept her at a distance from H all. Ann leaves the

room when Hall enters. Hall confides in Avery that his success has

become automatic and that his " g ift" has robbed him of any pleasure he

might have derived from his business. Douglas runs into the room to

report Curtis Maxwell's villainy in South America. He claims that

Curtis submitted false geological reports to Hall with the result that

their land in Algeciras is worthless. Hall tells Doug that he has long

been aware of Curtis's plot, and he assures his brother-in-law that he

has the situation wel1-in-hand. Curtis arrives, and Hall calmly 72 convinces him that his machinations w ill be unsuccessful. Maxwell argues b itte r ly with H all, and frustrated by his own b e lie f in H all's clairvoyance, he angrily accuses Hall of being demon-possessed. Curtis's e x it overlaps with Ann's entrance, and a long scene follows between husband and wife. Ann hints that a separation would be the best solu­ tion to th e ir present unhappiness. Hall is then forced to te ll his wife about his uncontrollable "gift." He apologizes for the distance that his secret has placed between them. Ann then surprises Hall by claiming

that although his clairvoyance frightens her, she is more concerned about his excessive drinking, his megalomania, and his ruthless business

tactics. She further demands a full explanation of Curtis Maxwell's excessive hatred, and Hall, infuriated .by his wife's naivete, blurts out the fu ll story of his role in Sherman's death. He a llie s himself with Faust, claiming that he must follow the path dictated by his gift whatever the moral implications might be. Ann, horrified, rushes out,

of the room, and Hall sinks to his knees imploring, "Don't be afraid of

me, Ann—don't be afra?d--love me." Avery intrudes on this scene, and

Hall rises, staring blankly into space. When Avery asks Hall what he

is staring at, Hall closes the act with the reply, "It's all over,

Avery . . . I've seen the End--the End— I've seen the End."

The last act opens on a scene between Hall and Avery that is

interrupted by Doug's fra n tic news of the imminent collapse of H all's

business. Vining has threatened to publish the news of the false

geological reports. The publication would create a scandal, resulting

in the desertion of H all's investors. H all, however, te lls Doug that

he has planned a leisurely meeting with Longwood, Maxwell, and Vining

the next morning, and he assures Doug that his enemies can and w ill be bought o ff. Doug begs Hall to meet with Vining sooner, but Hall insists that "nothing w ill happen." Dr. Avery then surprisingly expresses an

intellectual conviction in the validity of Hall's vision. In a short scene with Ann, Avery confesses his f a t a lis t ic b e lie f in H a ll's g i f t .

Upset by the conversion of her only a lly , Ann rushes out of the house.

Hall then te lls Avery about his most recent premonition. He has seen

that he w ill be the cause of Ann's death, and he has therefore resolved to move away to Europe without her. He asks Avery to take care of Ann for him. Avery agrees and e x its . H a ll, le ft alone, gets a gun out of his desk drawer, locks the door, and composes a suicide note to Ann.

A knock is then heard at the door. Hall replaces the gun and admits

Ann into the room. She sees the note and te lls Hall that she has just spoken with Dr. Avery, who expressed some concern about Hall's state of mind. Ann then professes her love for H a ll, and she claims ironical 1

that she would have k ille d herself i f she had found his dead body in

the room on her return. Convinced by her husband's attempted suicide

that he really does love her, Ann insists that they can defeat the

strength of the "terrible gift" with the power of their love. Doug then

enters with the news that Vining has published: he claims that Hall is

ruined. Doug te a rfu lly reproaches Hall for having mishandled the crisis

Hall is shocked by the failure of his gift to predict Vining's action.

He claims to have dreamed of the successful resolution of th eir feud

at the meeting that was scheduled for the next morning. Ann convinces

Hall that the proven f a l l i b i l i t y of his clairvoyance w ill insure their

future happiness. They then embrace as, offstage, newsboys shout the headlines of Vining's paper, Doug stands by, totally bewildered. 22 The curtain falls.

Behrman appended the following note for an alternate ending to The

Terrible Gift at the conclusion of his scenario: "She takes up the

p is to l— he grabs i t from her h an d --it goes o ff and k ills her— his g if t

o-j didn't lie." J The playwright discarded that ending, however, tempor­

a r ily yielding to Madden's assertion that the " g ift" should be defeated

"on moral grounds," j_.e., that at the end, Hall should face how ruth­

less he has become by trusting in his own i n f a l l i b i l i t y and so should

conquer his vision with an ethical act of free w i l l . None of the five

versions of the script carries the alternate ending.

After completing the prose scenario of The Terrible Gift, Behrman

attempted to schedule his work on the first draft of the play: "I'll

start writing as soon as I've given it to Madden, and I think I'll do

it right on the typewri t e r . "^5 EJehrman's opportun i t ies for work on the

scrip t did not match his enthusiasm for i t , however, and he was unable

to begin writing the first manuscript until six months later.

The probable reason for the delay was Behrman's new job as press

agent for Jed Harris's production of John Weaver's play, Love 'Em and

22T. G. Notes, "First Series," "Second Series," "Scenario," ca., October 1925 -

2 3 Ibi d.

2**T. G. Notes, "F irs t Series," 29 September 1925, P- *f.

2^T. G. Notes, "Second S eries," n .d ., p. 3- 75

Leave 'Em, which opened in New York in February, 1 9 2 6 .^ Behrman started writing the first act of The Terrible Gift on July 23, 1926, and he began work on the second act on the seventh of August, but

Harris's production of a play by Philip Dunning and George Abbot,

Broadway, which opened in September, 1926, postponed the completion of that act for nearly six months. Behrman quit his job with Harris after a heated argument following the London opening of Broadway ^ and he finally wrote the "curtain" for Act Two of The Terrible Gift while s ailin g back to America on board the S. S. Majestic. He finished the f i r s t d ra ft on February 16, 1927, by which time his lite ra ry agent,

Harold Freedman, had convinced the Theatre Guild to produce The Second

Man. Freedman apparently replaced Richard Madden permanently as Behrman's exclusive play broker. Madden's name does not appear in the notes for later drafts of The Terrible G ift.

The first draft of The Terrible Gift followed the general outline of the scenario. The most significant aspect of the script, as seen

in the lig h t of la te r revisions, was Behrman's treatment of John Hall as a sympathetic protagonist. As presented in the action of the play,

H a ll's reaction to his g i f t of prophecy progressed from a f ir s t-a c t terror at its validity, to euphoria over its power in Act Two, followed by a horrible sense of oppression in Act Three, which changed to ju b il­ ation at lib eratio n from the g i f t at the end of the fourth act. H all's

“^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 18.

271bid., pp. 39-^0. 76 tragedy was that his total vision did not include the gift of intro­ spection. The character's clairvoyance blinded him to the correct image of himself, and Behrman expected the audience to empathize with this metaphysical dilemma.

Another characteristic of The Terrible Gift was that it bore "the

nO cloven hoof of lite r a tu r e ." Hall quoted Francis Bacon, Shakespeare,

H. G. Wells, Henri Bergson, Napoleon, and Goethe in various speeches throughout the action of the play. Behrman's first-draft allusions to

Hamlet were typical of the playwright's in a b ility to e ffe c t a smooth

integration of lite ra ry sources into the colloquial diction of the play.

When Or. Avery asked Hall why he felt impelled to act onhis premonition of Sherman's death in the f i r s t act of The Terri ble G i f t , Hall replied with an undisguised quote from Hamlet (act 1. sc. 5):

The time is out of jo in t. 0, cursed spite, that ever I was born To set i t right.' °

In a fourth-act conversation about the possible reasons for Hall's

success, Behrman had Ann Carr recast Dr. Avery as Shakespeare's "Horatio"

via his transparent allusion to the same scene from Hamlet:

Avery: John's case? Intuition plus coincidence. Ann: Perhaps there are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

While d ire c t quotations from lite ra ry sources were more e ffe c tiv e ly

disguised in la te r versions of the play, most of the allusions were

oQ ^“Gilbert Miller's descriptive criticism of Behrman's second pro­ duced play, Serena Blandish (1929), is cited in Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 120.

g . Manuscript //l, act 1, p. 43-

■^1 bid. , act 4, p. 10. 77 never entirely removed. Behrman added the fourteenth stanza of Swin­ burne's poem, "An Interlude," to the first-act dialogue between Ann Carr and Raphael Lord in the acting edition of Meteor, further imprinting

0 J "the cloven hoof of lite ra tu re " on the produced version of the play.

In mid-February, 1927, Freedman submitted a typescript of the f ir s t draft of The Terrible Gift to the Theatre Guild. Behrman's first play for the Guild, The Second Man, was scheduled for production in April,

1927. When the playwright met with Maurice Wertheim, a Guild Board member, to discuss the casting of The Second Man, he reported that the

Guild was "greatly interested" in The Terri ble Gi f t , but they refused to buy i t without major revisions.-^ Behrman remained in New York through the seven-week run of The Second Man. He retreated to a lodge

in Blue H ill, Maine, late in the summer of 1927 to "write the whole play new for the Guild.Behrman described the d if f ic u lt f ir s t steps

in the process of revision in a le tte r to his childhood friend, Dan

Asher:

The Terrible Gift has to be entirely rewritten. After several days, I put the manuscript away altogether and began taking fresh notes. This lasted for some days. A few days ago I began to w rite . I've got the right attack now. I am settling into the first act. I had to scoop under to get at the v a lu e s --it's an immensely difficult subject. I'll be glad when it's done.3^

^Behrman, Meteor (New York: Brentano's, 1930), act 1, p. 3^.

•^Idem, People In A D iary, p. 57-

33t . G. Notes, 18 August 1927, p. 1-

3^Don Asher, The Eminent Yachtsman and the Whorehouse Piano Player (New York: Coward, McCann £• Geohegan, 1973), 113 • Behrman made sweeping revisions in the locale, setting, individual characterizations, and character relationships in his first-act rewrite

The T errible G i f t . He decided to change the locale of the f ir s t act from a nondescript town in New Jersey to a small college town in

Massachusetts. The setting for Act One became Dr. Avery's house.

Avery's profession was changed from that of a Doctor of Medicine to a

Doctor of Philosophy on the faculty of the local college. The Carr children reside with the eld erly psychology professor as th eir legal guardian. The action of the original first act centered on preparations for Ann Carr's wedding to Sherman Maxwell, but the rewrite structured the plot around plans for a birthday party for Ann. Virtually all of the characterizations were adjusted to grow organically out of the new first-act milieu. Ann Carr became Dr. Avery's research assistant. Her brother, Douglas, was a struggling graduate student. Sherman Maxwell was transformed from a Standard Oil Company executive stationed in

China into an All-American football star, and his brother, Curtis, became Sherman's manager. John H a ll, whose name was changed to "Raphael

Lord" in the rew rite, became a promising, but distracted and unmoti­ vated protege of Dr. Avery. The role of Selena Goodhue, the Carr children's aunt, was reduced considerably in the rew rite. She was the hostess for Ann Carr's wedding in the original version, but she became a guest at Ann's birthday party in the revision.^5

Behrman made the original plot and characters of The Ter r i ble G i f t more specific by drawing from his own personal experience for details

35t . G. Notes, 18 August 1927, pp. 1-12. 79 of the new setting and characterizations. He decided to anchor the

first-act locale "solidly at Clark . . . and Worcester.The note was a

reference to Clark College, in Worcester, Massachusetts, where Behrman had studied for two years as an undergraduate from 1912-191^- The model

for Ann Carr's deceased fath er, Dr. Avery's venerated colleague, became

G. Stanley Hall. Dr. Hall was one of the original founders of Clark

College's graduate research program in psychology and was nationally

known as Sigmund Freud's host for his f ir s t lecture engagement in the

United States at Clark College in 1909.^

Sherman Maxwell's new characterization as an All-American football

star enabled Behrman to dramatize the issue of the controversial role

of extracu rric u lar sports in the lif e of a university. Behrman grasped

the opportunity to contrast Maxwell's we 11-pub Iicized a c tiv itie s on the

football field with what he believed was Hall's philosophical focus on

achievement in the classroom:

Make it an incidental satire on football publicity as a chief asset instead of learning . . . Avery knows the founder, say a man like Stanley Hall . . . and how h o rrifie d he would have been— his, the founder's ideal of a small University devoted purely to research ^ . . if he could see it now— stadia--front-page stories.-^

Behrman's arguments against the value of sports on campus were immedi­

ately incorporated into expository dialogue about Ann's father and the

new milieu of The Terrible Gift, and the playwright retained his

I bid ., p. 3 •

37 Peter Amacher, "Sigmund Freud," in The Dictionary of S c ie n tific Biography, ed: Charles Gillispie (New York! Scribners, 1972), p. 252.

3&T. G. Notes, 18 August 1927, P- 6* incidental satire on football publicity in the first-act dialogue of the published version of the play.

The next model Behrman elected to bring new life to an old charac­ terization was that of the producer, Jed Harris, the playwright's former employer. Alfred Lunt, who made up as Harris when he played the leading role in Meteor, believed throughout the rehearsal period of the play that Harris was the model for his character.^9 In his autobiography,

Behrman corrected Lunt's misconception by stating that Harris, in fact, was not his image for the character of Raphael Lord,**® but the play­ wright's own working notes on The Terrible Gift contradict that asser­ tion. On the f ir s t page of his notes for the rewrite of the play,

Behrman wrote of Lord, "Make him an S .0.B .--Jed H a rris ," and "Jed h. j Harris— chronic egomania."

There are many parallels between Behrman's published reminiscences of Harris's career and the dramatization of Raphael Lord's "Meteoric

Rise" in the business world in the second act of the play. Recalling

H arris's phenomenal success on Broadway in the 1930's, Behrman wrote of the producer:

By the time he was th irty he had made a m illio n dollars and had the New York theatre, which was then the American theatre, in the palm of his hand. Icarus, the velocity of his ascent catapulted him. Those in his orbit became his devotees, and I was in his o rb it. As his legend grew, so did his b e lie f in it . In the end, this credulity undid him . ^

^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 87-

I bid.

*^T. G. Notes, 18 August 1927, P* 1»

^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 19. Since the playwright himself was not possessed of the g i f t of c la ir ­ voyance, Behrman, of course, was in no position in 1927 to perceive the eventual decline of Jed Harris's career. His use of Harris as a model for Raphael Lord focussed on his contemporary image of the man.

Behrman described his relationship with Harris in the late 1920's with some measure of ambivalence. He was simultaneously repelled by Harris' d ic ta to ria l manner with his employees and fascinated by his power to charm his peers:

Jed's effect on people was extraordinary; the forward thrust of his personality, the physical embodiment of his total self-belief, was hypnotic. He simply knew that he was destined for mastery. *

Behrman later used H arris's capacity to mesmerize in his dramatization of the relationship between Raphael Lord and the young Douglas Carr.

In the first act of Meteor, Phyllis berates Douglas for placing too much .trust in Lord's, as yet, unproven a b ility :

PHYLLIS: Think of your being so impressed by that conceited, objectionable-- . . . DOUGLAS: You're prejudiced. PHYLLIS: You're hypnotized. DOUGLAS: Nonsense. Don't be s illy . PHYLLIS: You are, Douglas.

Harris's reputed talent to charm applied to the social as well as the

professional spheres of a c tiv ity . Behrman recalled, "There was a

Svengali look about him. . . . He wowed everybody. . . . Actresses

swooned over him. His seductions were notorious."^-* In his notes for

^3ibid., pp. 36-37-

^Behrman, Meteor (New York: Brentano's, 1930), p. 8.

^ Id em , People In A D iary, p. 19. 82 the addition of a first-act sexual attraction between Ann Carr and

Raphael Lord, Behrman wrote: "The g ir l is fascinated by him, never really loves him, but can't get away from h im ." ^

Perhaps the most sig n ific a n t use of Harris as a model for the character of Raphael Lord, was Behrman's revision of the protagonist as a caustic "ishmael i te,'|if7 a social outcast from the company of his fellow college students. Behrman transferred his painful experience of

Harris's overbearing manner with his underlings to Lord's lack of social grace with characters he viewed as mediocrities. Like Harris, at least as Behrman perceived him, Raphael Lord became a bad-mannered "S .O .B .," who was, somewhat disconcertingly, also capable of affecting certain people with his irre s is tib le charm. Behrman's reported "traumatic" relationship with his intimidating employer caused him to ponder often the reasons for his paradoxical fondness for Harris. U8 Such ambivalence was later manifest in the love-hate relationships between Lord and Avery, and Lord and Ann Carr, in Meteor.

Behrman also added d etails to the character of Raphael Lord that would set him apart from the depiction of the other college students in the play. He decided that "Raphael Lord" would not be the character's

real name, but would be, rather, a kind of gradiose epithet his hero adopted to increase his sense of his own im portance.^ He later used

^ T. G. Notes, 18 August 1927, p. 1*

^ 7 |bid. [,o Behrman, People In A D iary, pp. 26, 60.

^ T . g. Notes, "Second Series," 3 November 1927, P- !• 83 the fact of Lord's alias as the basis for a second-act scene in which

Avery and Ann mischievously urge Lord to reveal his real name. Phyllis's entrance is comically timed to break the scene ju st before Lord's disclosure, and the hero's actual identity remains a mystery.

The change in the first-act locale of The Terrible Gift forced

Behrman to reconsider John H all's original liason with Sherman Maxwell as a co-worker for the Standard Oil Company. The revised character of

Raphael Lord was given a completely d iffe re n t background. Behrman's designation of Lord's route to the small college town where the action of the play opens was intended to contribute to the dramatist's new characterization of the hero as atypical of the conventional under­ graduate community:

He had vagabonded around the country for five or six years-- had gotten into this little fresh-water place on his bumming tour and decided to stay— to test that racket--had been immersed in radical lite ra tu re and was way ahead of every student— it bored him so he q u it— and then in China— he suddenly missed her, got this hunch about her and came back with the intention of marrying her.

The playwright later adjusted Lord's background to include his having

51 "been in jail for some radical activity." Behrman also questioned the necessity of Lord's placement in China immediately before the action of the play began, and he concluded that it was more economical to have Lord at college "all the time.".-^

-^ T. G. Notes, 18 August 1927, P- 3-

51 Ib id ., p. 9 -

52 Ib id ., p. 10. 8k

Another major character revision in The Terrible Gift centered on

Behrman's depiction of Ann Carr. In the original, she had been described as "a very simple creature,"53 who later married John Hall out of grat­

itude for his generosity toward her brother. Behrman's note to himself

on the rewrite was to "make her a d iffe re n t type altogether . . . she

doesn't take Hall seriously . . . his arrogance, e tc ., arouses her

humorous contempt s i i g h t l y . " ^ A fter reviewing the original conception

of Ann Carr, Behrman chastised himself for having created such a

"lachrymose sap.'"55 and he resolved to adjust her characterization from

that of a "namby-pamby," to a more "s p irite d and vigorous modern g i r l . " ^

That major change necessitated a further revision in Ann Carr's original

relationship with Sherman Maxwell. Ann had been intimidated by Maxwell's

persistence in the f ir s t d ra ft. in the rew rite, however, Behrman

transformed Maxwell into a football player, who was, more specifically, 57 "a big boy with no brain." Ann's revised reaction to Sherman's

proposal of marriage in the f ir s t act of The T errib le G ift was that

"she has very l i t t l e in common with him, and yet she is a b it fla tte re d —

rO and likes him—he's so dumbly adoring." At no point in the action of

G. Notes, "Second Series," 29 September 1925, P- k.

~^*T. G. Notes, 18 August 1927, P* 10.

55|bid., p. 2.

[bid.

57|bid., p. 10.

58lbid., p. 2. 85 the rewritten script does Ann Carr take Maxwell's marriage proposal seriously.

Behrman's revision of Ann Carr's characterization contributed to an emphatic change in the original manuscript's sympathetic treatment of the protagonist. Ann's function in the rewrite became that of a commentator on Lord's actions, a role that the original character was both in te lle c tu a lly and temperamentally unequipped to f u l f i l l . Behrman noted that Ann's new characterization was "important— it must be estab- 59 lished as s an ity." J That new direction also complemented Behrman's expanded use of Dr. Avery in the play:

You can, through Avery's a ttitu d e , get the right slant on H a ll— the slant of mellow experience and tolerant humor . . . — Avery of the f ir s t importance.

Behrman's new characterizations of Dr. Avery and Ann Carr were extremely s ig n ific a n t as the f ir s t step toward a decrease in emphasis on Lord's individual c o n flic t with his personal metaphysical dilemma. Subsequent revisions featured the increased use of Avery and Ann to comment on the morality of Raphael Lord's business ethics, a function that allowed for

the wider dramatic examination of the p o ten tially dangerous role that men like Lord could play in society.

' The first act of the second draft of The Terrible Gift opens on an argument between Phyllis and Doug concerning Lord's rash plan to take

Doug to New York with him that night. Lord has tired of academic l if e , and has yielded to a premonition that he could be a successful financier.

591 b id ., p. 2 .

601bid., p. 10. 86

His offer to include Doug in his blueprint for success is motivated largely by a desire to ingratiate himself with Doug's sister, Ann. Lord

intrudes on the young couple's conversation and he rudely asks Phyllis to leave him alone with Dcug. Phyllis reluctantly agrees, and she exits downstairs to help Doug's aunt with the preparations for Ann's birthday party. Douglas then te lls Lord that he cannot go to New York without taking more time to consider the move, whereupon Lord becomes impatient with Doug's timidity. Avery arrives with Ann, and Doug leaves to help

Phyllis with the arrangements for the party. Lord tells Avery and Ann of his plan to leave school immediately, and a fte r expressing some disappointment about Lord's decision, Avery leaves for his study. Lord then proposes marriage to Ann and asks her to leave with him that night, but Ann, disturbed by Lord's impetuosity, refuses him. Lord attributes

Ann's reluctance to her apparent affection for the local football star,

Sherman Maxwell, and he proceeds to belittle Maxwell's character, Ann and Lord quarrel, and Lord angrily storms out of the house. Ann leaves

the room to change her clothes, leaving the stage empty for the a rriv a l of Sherman and Curtis Maxwell. Sherman tells his brother that he intends

to marry Ann, but Curtis advises against the marriage. He reveals a

scheme he devised that would make them both m illio n aires. He urges

Sherman to embark on a tour of exhibition football games, and he insists

that with national notoriety, Sherman could have any woman he wanted.

Sherman replies that he wants only Ann. When Curtis protests, Sherman

discloses another reason why he cannot cooperate with Curtis. He con­

fesses that a recent physical examination detected the existence of a

heart condition that would prevent him from playing the game professionally. Curtis scoffs at the doctor's diagnosis and insists that Sherman could "fake" playing at his full capacity. Fearful of the effect of harmful publicity, Curtis then asks Sherman if anyone else knows about his condition. Sherman te lls Curtis that Raphael Lord saw him enter the doctor's o ffic e , but he is convinced that Lord does not know the results of the examination. Ann enters, and Sherman tells his brother to go downstairs for some punch. Sherman then proposes to Ann, who treats the matter lightly. Lord returns and overhears Maxwell's proposal. He demands to be left alone with Maxwell, and Ann sarcasti­ cally grants his request. Curtis re-enters the room in time to hear

Lord's accusation that Sherman is keeping the news of his illness from

Ann. Sherman moves to s trike Lord, but Curtis holds his brother o ff.

Curtis convinces Sherman to let him handle Lord, and Sherman exits with

the statement that he doesn't want to ruin Ann's birthday party.

Convinced that Lord knows everything about Sherman's illn e s s , Curtis discloses the specific nature of the ailment. He informs Lord that he

shares his dim view of a marriage between Sherman and Ann. When Lord

hears Curtis's reasons for discouraging the match, however, he an g rily

accuses Curtis of being a potential murderer. Cries are then heard

from downstairs. Doug announces that Sherman has fainted, and Mrs.

Goodhue runs to get Dr. Avery. Maxwell rushes downstairs. The commo­

tion brings Ann out of her room, and when she asks Lord what a ll of

the noise is about, Lord replies, "Sherman Maxwell is dead."

In the second act, Behrman added the new scene concerning the

authenticity of Raphael Lord's name. He also included Lord's knowledge

of Curtis Maxwell's self-seeking plans for his brother to their 88 th ird -act confrontation a fte r Maxwell's betrayal of Lord. Except for some logical adjustments in selected speeches that were rewritten to be consistent with the new characterizations and functions of Dr. Avery and

Ann, the structure of the second, th ird , and fourth acts of The T errib le

61 G i f t remained unchanged from the original scenario.

Behrman completed the second d ra ft of The Terri ble Gi f t in December,

1927- It had taken him four months to revise the f i r s t act of the original manuscript, and his work on the rest of the play remained incomplete. There is no evidence that Freedman submitted the second draft of the play to the Theatre Guild. A survey of Behrman's activities during the f ir s t six months of 1928 suggests that the playwright simply stopped working on the script because of his commitments to other projects. Jed Harris, forgetting an earlier description of Behrman's plays as "thin,1 bought his dramatization of Enid Bagnold's novel,

Serena Blandish, and he was anxious to get that scrip t ready for production. The Theatre Guild scheduled a London run of The Second Man

for February, 1928. Harold Ross, the editor of The New Yorker, com­ missioned Behrman to produce a p ro file of George Gershwin for that

publication. The Guild needed Behrman's rewrite of The Terrible Gift

by June, 1928, i f Behrman intended a production of the scrip t during

the f ir s t h alf of the 1928-1929 season. In March, 1928, Behrman

expressed some concern about his schedule in a le tte r to his habitual

consultant on general working methods, Dan Asher:

^ T. G. Typescript # 2 , 14 December 1927*

^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 5^* 89

I've needed you pretty badly in these last few weeks. I haven't kept a proper control of things and I'm worried about The Terrible G i f t , on which I haven't done any further work and which must be completed soon. I may have to come up to Boston and have you help me get through it. With the Guild affiliation, my position has taken a change— everybody in town is a fte r me. I am swamped with offers and all the while I feel a growing sense of inade­ quacy. . . . Jed Harris continues to make my life miserable with importunities—and here I am with a sense of being overwhelmed. . . . I've kept to our schedule only p a r ti­ a l l y — the truth is, I've been so rushed with engagements, I've gotten to bed too late to be able to work in the morning. I've got to get in shape at once, so I'm shutting myself up for a few days (having notified everyone that I'm out of town). 3

Behrman's third draft of The Terri ble Gi ft actually consisted of work in progress on the f ir s t rewrite. His notation on the manuscript of Act One of the new version read: '5/7/28 :N.Y. City." Behrman completed the scrip t exactly two months la te r, on the seventh of May.

The most significant change in the third draft was a transition in the focus of the action "from the metaphysical aspect to a contemporary economic one." Behrman attempted to underplay the melodramatic values

inherent in Raphael Lord's power of prediction and strengthen the topical

issue of Lord's ruthless intervention into internationa1 p o litic s for the sake of financial gain. Contemporary instances of "o il diplomacy" were often associated with the miraculous expansion of wealth and power among

American financiers. One of the most sensational cases of the practice of dollar diplomacy involved Secretary of State Kellogg's intervention

into disagreements between Mexico and Nicaragua in 1927- The Mexican

^A sher, p. 142.

^*T. G. Notes, "Act Two," 14 March 1928, p. 2. 9 0 government objected to a coup d 'e ta t in Nicaragua, allegedly orches­

trated by American o il concerns, that placed General Diaz in power there.

When Mexico refused to recognize the new government, Kellogg responded with a threat to l i f t the arms embargo on Mexico, a move that would

p recip itate a Mexican c iv il w a r .^ Within a week Kellogg reversed his

position on Mexico, but controversy over Kellogg's inconsistent appli­

cation of the Hughes and Monroe doctrines continued to flare in the 66 lib eral press. D In February, 1928, Behrman transcribed the following

passage from a more recent study of "o il diplomacy:"

Most of the petroleum works in the small republics of Central America have likewise brought th e ir owners nothing but heavy losses and bitter disappointments. I have described already, in an earlier chapter, how both the British and the Americans have had to contend with innumerable d iffic u ltie s in Costa Rica. The conditions have been similar in other small states. . . . There is l i t t l e doubt that those countries possess very considerable quantities of petroleum, but in the existing political conditions with the perpetual insecurity, the boundless corruption, and the constantly recurring revolutions, it is difficult to establish any large industrial undertaking. 7

The playwright asked himself i f the above passage could not be "c ry s ta l­

lized" in the opening scene of the second act between Curtis Maxwell

and Edgar Mull i n . 68 In the original d ra ft, Behrman relied on the simple

device of Curtis Maxwell's forgery of geological reports to supply the

mechanism for his la te r betrayal of Lord. The third d ra ft, however,

65"The Week," New Repub 1 ic ^-9 (19 January 1927): 231.

661b id ., (26 January 1927): 258.

^^Anton Mohr, The Oil War (New York: Harcourt, Brace £■ Co., 1928), p. 2kk.

^ T . G. Notes, "Act Two," 1^ March 1928, p. 1. cast Lord in the role of a ruthless imperalist, determined to protect his investments in the renamed country of "Ariandos", whatever the cost in lives to that nation. Continuing this action in the third act of the play, Behrman added Lord's prediction of a political coup that would reverse the fortunes of his conspiratorial enemies and restore o il-r ic h lands to his possession. Ann Carr and Dr. Avery served as Behrman's spokesmen in the new version, often voicing liberal arguments against

Lord's imperiali sm.

Behrman introduced Lord as a disillusioned leftist-turned-materialist in the first act of The Terrible G ift. He reminded himself to use a quote from a recent speech delivered by Clarence Darrow on "money- c r it ic is m ." ^ On February 20, 1928, the New York Times reported Darrow as saying:

Most rich men in the United States are for Mussolini, and the people who believe in Mussolini in Ita ly would believe in another Mussolini in the United States. They don't even like to have a president elected every four years because i t makes the stocks go down. . . . Mussolini typ ifies for them a stable government, peace and security, for the loaning and t r a f f ic in money. ' 0

In the f ir s t act of the new version of the play, Behrman gave Lord a speech to Ann in which he proclaimed, "Money-technique is the essence of the age, and I shall be the master of it.'"^ The playwright further

691bid., p. 2.

7°New York Times, 20 February 1928, p. 15-

^Behrman, Meteor (New York: Bertano's, 1930), p. 28. 9 2 provided for Dr. Avery to ask Lord half-seriously if he had ever met

Mussolini.

Behrman named the new addition to the script "the Croesus theme"^3 after the wealthy king of Lydia. The revised depiction of the protagon­

ist as an imperialist added a serious topical element to the play and made Lord considerably less sympathetic. It did l i t t l e , however, to expiate the melodramatic device of Lord's clairvoyance. In the third draft, Lord still predicted a political coup that he hoped would actually occur. Behrman's interpolation of a profound social issue, the ethics of dollar diplomacy, into the action of the play, failed to accomplish the intended vitiation of the superficial means he employed to dramatize

i t.

Other revisions of Raphael Lord in the third draft of The Terrible

G i ft contributed to an unsympathetic portrait of the character. Behrman added speeches in the f i r s t act in which Lord expressed a contempt for scholarship to ju s t if y his new-found materialism. The playwright also

included a progression in Lord's character from a cultured, articulate

college student in the first act of the play, to a vulgar, inarticulate

businessman in the second act. Lord's diction is strewn with "I dunno's"

in the ensemble scene in which he presents Doug and Phyllis with th eir

new home. Behrman also wrote a speech for Lord in which his stated

rationale for refusing to attend a Toscanini concert with Ann is: "I

72 lb id ., p. 24.

73T. G. Notes", " F ifth Series," 28 April 1928, p. 5- 93 get pretty restless listening to those programs. The conductor looks so grotesque."7^ Behrman cut the business of Lord's progressive alcoholism, which was o rig in a lly intended to express his internal obsession by the g i f t . 75 The revised protagonist is a clear-eyed capitalist who does not need any escape from his actions. Lord is also portrayed as a patho­ logical liar in the first act of the new v e r s i o n . 7^ He te lls Doug that he came to Massachusetts a fte r being inspired by reading Dr. Carr's works in a prison library in Denver. When he repeats the story to Ann, the locale is changed to Los Angeles.

Behrman heightened Lord's unsympathetic traits further by making the character of Ann Carr more noble. He added some first-act remin­ iscences of Dr. Carr's admirable q u a litie s to Ann's opening s c e n e . 77

In the last act, Behrman included a long speech in which Ann e ffe c tiv e ly describes the despicable character that her husband has become. The speech effects Lord's abrupt recognition scene a t the end of the play, and Behrman wrote a new curtain for the final act that featured Ann's re-introduction of the question of Lord's real name. Lord whispers his name into Ann's ear as the curtain f a lls , an action that was intended to symbolize Lord's liberation from the destructive trappings of his assumed identity.

7^Behrman, Meteor (New York: Brentano's, 1930), act 2, p. 83.

75j . g . Notes, "Act Three," 23 April 1928, p. 2.

7^Ib id ., " F ifth S eries," April 1928, p. 3*

77|bid., p. 7- The last significant change in the third draft of The Terrible Gift was a restructuring of the action of the play. Behrman combined Act

Three and Act Four into a single act of two scenes. Twenty minutes elapse between Hall's revelation of his premonition of Ann's death at

the close of the f i r s t scene of Act Three and Doug's news of the collapse of the business at the s ta rt of Scene Two.

Other minor revisions in the script included: (l) cutting the character of Selena Goodhue, (2) increasing the time lapse between the

first two acts to a period of three years, (3) establishing the motiva­

tion for Avery's presence in Act Three as his attendance at a scientific convention in New York, (4) renaming Lord's business competitor "Fremont,"

instead of "Longwood," and (5) giving Ann Carr a skeptical awareness of

7ft Lord's b e lie f in the g if t of clairvoyance in Act One.

In his notes for April 23, 1928, Behrman recorded a new t i t l e for

The Terri ble G i f t . The original t i t l e had focussed on the metaphysical

aspect of the play. The third-draft title, Meteor, was compatible with

the revised tra n s itio n to an economic emphasis. Behrman later added

some business in the second act in which Curtis Maxwell looked a t a

magazine a r tic le about "The Meteoric Rise of Raphael Lord."79 Previous

choices for new titles included The Fourth Dimension, Ishmael, Franken-

O n s te in , Superman, Midas, and Blind A1ley.ou Meteor may have been drawn

from a quote by Napoleon:

^ T. G. Typescript # 3 , 7 May 1928.

79Be hrman, Meteor (New York: Brentano's, 1930), act 2, p. 75»

g . Notes, 29 September 1925, 18 August 1927, 3 November 1927, 14 March 1928, 23 April 1928. 95

Men who are truly great are like meteors: they shine and consume themselves, that they may lig h t the darkness of the e a rth .^1

Behrman continued the "meteor" imagery in the final version of the play.

On Lord likens himself to "a man propelled alone through space."0'1 He tells

Dr. Avery, " It 's the darkness in which you live that makes lif e possible

Oo for you," 5 and in the fin a l scene with Ann, Behrman added Lord's speech: "I'm adrift--in a cruelly-lighted world--with no merciful

84 shadow— no darkness."

The Theatre Guild bought the third draft of Meteor on May 23, 1928.

As the Guild's Board Members attempted to contract a director and cast

for Behrman's new play, they encountered considerable opposition to

th e ir affectio n for the s c rip t. Roy Waldau, in The Vintage Years of the

Theatre GuiId, described the wane of enthusiasm for Meteor that developed

through the late summer and fa ll of 1928. In August,

Philip Moeller expressed dissatisfaction with the script, saying it "lacked emotional grip and was not cumulative." The others agreed to reread the play even while Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne were being considered as p o ssibil­ itie s for the leads. In September, the Lunts attended a meeting of the Board to say that they would appear in Meteor only if it was extremely revised, but that they were not anxious to do i t in New York. A b it la te r, Gale Sondergard was proposed for the leading female role, and a week follow­ ing that, with the Board now unenthusiastic about doing the piece, E lio t Cabot was mentioned as a p o s s ib ility for the leading man. There was a rumor that Jed Harris was in te r­ ested in producing the play, and the Board was in favor

^ E m il Ludwig, Napoleon, trans. Eden Paul (New York: Boni £• Liveright, 1926), p. 22.

®2Behrman, Meteor (New York: Brentano's, 1930), act 2, p. 112.

ibid., act 3, p. 145- 84 Ibid., act 3, p. 165. 96

of asking Harris to direct it for the Guild. Harris appar­ ently demurred, and Rouben Mamoulian was offered the assignment. When Mamoulian showed l i t t l e relish for the project, the whole idea was nearly dropped, but Moeller agreed reluctantly to assume the d ire c to ria l chores himself, with the stip u latio n that the script be completely rewr i tten. 5

On December 12, 1928, Behrman began w riting the fourth d ra ft of

Meteor. Perhaps because of his prior commitment to Jed H arris's production of Serena Blandish, which opened in February, 1929, Behrman did not complete the revision of Meteor until the f i r s t of A p ril.

The fourth draft of Meteor was not, as Moeller suggested, a complete revision of the e a rlie r s c rip t. Behrman knew that the Guild had given serious consideration to casting the Lunts in the play, and most of his rewrites concentrated on revisions in the roles they might be playing;

Ann Carr and Raphael Lord. In November, 1928, Behrman took extensive notes on the character of Ann Carr:

Ann must be entirely rewritten as a woman of the world, strong, tender, powerful. At first she sees R. L. as a b r illia n t boy whom she understands and mothers-- . . . she must be less cold . . . Make her an a le r t sociolo­ gist— the type who knows the cost of imperialism and who has a brain for the news . . . make her a woman who in s tin c tiv e ly conceals the fact that she's clever .because she thinks, for men, it detracts from her charm.

Behrman consequently revised the fir s t-a c t scene between Ann and Lord that previously expressed their sexual attraction for each other. He noted: "You don't need special passion in their first scene— but

85R0y s. Waldau, Vintage Years of the Theatre Guild: 1928-1939 (Cleveland, Ohio: Case Western Reserve Pressj 1972), pp^ 67- 68.

^ Meteor Notes, 3 November 1928 - 13 November 1928, pp. 1-3* different approach--charmJBehrman's new scene depicted Ann's

intellectual conviction in Lord's potential as a scholar who might

follow in her father's footsteps. Lord is portrayed as the only man in

the play, with the exception of Dr. Avery, who is privy to Ann's ciia-“n

and cleverness, traits that are clearly wasted on Sherman Maxwell. In

the revision, when Lord asks Ann to run away with him, a discussion of

her personality ensues:

ANN: You don't rea lly imagine I'm going to New York with you tonight? LORD: Of course you're going with me. ANN: Why do you like me? LORD: Why? You're cool. You're remote. I have an idea you're lovely. ANN: Is it only a suspicion? LORD: I like to talk to you. . . . You're intelligent. You understand the im plication of what I say. ANN: I'm very clever, Raphael. °

Ann is deeply fond of Raphael, but she is also concerned, in a maternal

way, that Lord's acquired ideological materialism might ruin him unless

she can save him from himself. Behrman added a new short scene in

which Ann, fearful of losing Raphael forever, sends Douglas to retrieve

Lord after his jealous outburst over Sherman Maxwell. The playwright

also took notes on a new ending for the act: "New scene--Ann-Lord — in

which she goes with him."^ The appropriate revision featured Lord's

additional curtain line to Ann after his declaration of Maxwell's death

"You are going away with me."9°

® 7|bid., 3 December 1928, p. 2.

^Behrman, Meteor (New York: Brentano's, 1930), p. 3^*

^^Meteor Notes, 3 December 1928, p. 2.

^Behrman, Meteor (New York: Farrar £- Rinehart, 193^-), p» 155* 98

Other revisions of the first act included additional dialogue for

Dr. Avery and Ann in which they induce Lord to stay in college by disclosing that they have procured a European study grant for him.9^

Lord, determined to establish himself in business, declines their offer.

Douglas's character was s lig h tly altered in his opening scene with

Phyllis to include the detail that he feels inadequate as a scholar:

Douglas different—worried about himself--his scholarship-- feels he's not worthy of his father--feels he's pi odding--and R. L. says he's not meant to be a scholar . . . better go with him--ass istant to him as great executive. 92

That detail made Douglas's unqualified endorsement of Lord's business practices more believable in Act Two. Lord becomes Doug's surrogate father. The only comparison Douglas is capable of making between Lord and the deceased Dr. Carr is that Lord's b rillia n c e in business is d iffe re n t, but no less admirable, than his fath er's genius for scholar­ ship.

Behrman made a major structural change in his revision of Act Two of Meteor. On November 21, 1928, he noted: "The conviction grows in me that they should be married in Act 2."93 |p the f ir s t three d rafts,

Lord proposed to Ann in Act Two, and they were married during the act

break before Act Three. When Behrman began writing the draft of the

new second act on January k, 1929, he increased the time lapse between

the first and second acts to five years, and he depicted Ann Carr as

9^Meteor Notes, 25 November 1928, p. 1.

I b id ., 5 November 1928, p. 1.

93 | b i d. , p. h . 99

Mrs. Raphael Lord as the act opened. Behrman consequently cut the

proposal scene that had been part of Act Two, and he reduced Ann's scene with Curtis Maxwell, deleting their discussion of Lord's probable mar­

riage proposal. C urtis's antagonism remained intact, however. His

shortened scene with Ann focussed on her attempt to discover the source

of his h o s ti1i ty.

The imperialism theme was strengthened in the second act with the

added d eta il that Lord hired marines to pacify the South American

natives' objections to the presence of his o il concerns in their

c o u n t r y . Lord treats the resulting bloodshed in Ariandos casually,

and Ann and Dr. Avery are predictably horrified by his tactics.

Harold Freedman contributed an idea for a new scene in Act Three

to be placed after Douglas's announcement of the collapse of the

bus i ness:

Moment must come when he drinks in from the deep well of her stren g th --o f her peace, of her wisdom--moment in the scene between them at the end--then he catapults out of it and feels powerful again.^5

Behrman dramatized Freedman's suggestion, which necessitated removing

Douglas e n tire ly from the fin al scene of the play. Freedman's advice

led to a more major change in the nature of the ending of the play. In

the original s c rip t, Ann succeeded in convincing Lord that the fa ilu re

of his empire signified a new and better life for both of them. In the

last scene of the new version, contrarily, Lord rejects Ann's assertion

Ibid., 2 November 1928, p. 1. 100

that the collapse of his business is a godsend. Lord views his lib e ra ­

tion from the "gift" as an opportunity to fight his competitors on an equal basis and win. His victory over Vining, Fremont, and Maxwell, will be more satisfying without the advantage of clairvoyance. Lord

transfers his sense of superiority, originally induced by his belief in

his vision, to a deep conviction in the pre-eminence of his own free w ill. He will destroy his enemies using their conventional tactics.

Behrman accordingly revised Ann's reaction to Lord in the final 96 scene. He decided that "she should leave him at the end." 3 In the

rewritten third act, Lord accepts Doug's news of his ruin and is

temporarily resigned to his fate, but he finally decides that he can

still destroy his enemies. The last speech of the play consists of

Lord's telephone call to his r iv a l, Fremont, threatening him with

retribution for his villainy. As Behrman reviewed Ann's reaction to

her husband's irredeemable ruthlessness, he concluded: "she walks

proudly out— her head high—while he is giving his name over the phone."97

Freedman submitted the fourth d ra ft of Meteor to the Theatre Guild

early in A p ril, 1929, at which time "Theresa Helburn reported that the 98 Lunts were w illin g to appear in i t ." 3 Since the Lunts were committed

to a London run of th e ir current h it, Capr i ce, in the summer of 1929,

they were unavailable for rehearsals until the following October.

96 Ib id ., 3 December 1928, p. 6.

97|bid., p. 7. 9 8 Waldau, p. 68. 101

Meteor was in rehearsal on Black Friday, October 28, 1929, the day of the collapse of the New York Stock Exchange. The Guild was p articu ­ la rly concerned about how the crash might a ffe c t the audience's reactions to Behrman's play. Their advertisements for Meteor promised: "Even though you were ruined in the recent Stock Exchange landslide, you w ill

99 still like this play." The Guild was not in accord with its own p u b lic ity , however, and a fte r previewing Behrman's play on November 12,

1929, the d irectorate "considered keeping Meteor away from New York as

long as necessary. A ll thoughts of an alternating production were abandoned, and the managers busied themselves making suggestions for the Lunts' next play."^00

Not surprisingly, Behrman was disheartened over the Guild's reaction

to his play, but he agreed to rewrite the s c rip t for a postponed New

York opening on December 23, 1929* Extensive cuts were made in the play. Behrman removed entirely Ann's Act-Two confrontation scene with

Curtis Maxwell, Lord's third-act attempted suicide, and Ann's page-long

speech to Lord at the end of the play in which she formerly recounted

his transgressions. He cut the detail of Lord's radical activities

before college. He strengthened Lord's jealousy of Sherman Maxwell in

Act One, and he increased the degree of Lord's irritation with Dr.

Avery's naive political liberalism in Act Two. Behrman also altered

the nature of the Act Three curtain. In the fourth d ra ft, the curtain

99|bid., p. 69.

100lbid. 102 fe ll as Lord fra n tic a lly trie d to speak to Fremont about a possible

"deal" in Ariandos. The audience was left not knowing whether Lord's attempt to rebuild his empire would be successful. The acting edition, however, ended with Lord's successful intim idation of Fremont. The audience would go away with the d is tin c t impression that, as evidenced

by the case of Raphael Lord, crime does pay. The cumulative e ffe c t of

the revisions made during the rehearsals of Meteor (the m ajority of which were cuts) was a reduction of the lib e ra l opposition offered by

Ann and Dr. Avery, an element that Behrman had steadily strengthened

in his work on the th ird and fourth drafts of the play.

Other structural revisions included the addition of a rewritten second-act scene in which Ann's attempt to communicate seriously with

Lord is fo iled by his distracted annoyance with her for not wearing

some expensive jewelry he gave her. Behrman also deleted the curtain

drop between the two scenes in Act Three, a revision that was facilitated

largely by the extensive cuts made in the roles of Dr. Avery and Ann

Carr.

Meteor opened to mixed reviews at the H ollis Street Theatre in

Boston on December 2, 1929.10^ it opened in New York at the Guild

Theatre on December 23 to favorable reviews for the Lunts and unfavorable

c ritic is m for the p l a y . 102 Meteor ran for ninety-three performances, a

^An extensive survey of critical reaction may be found in John L. Nydegger, "A C ritic a l Analysis of the Original Dramatizations of S. N. Behrman" (Ph.D. d issertatio n , University of Denver, 1969).

102The New York cast included Shirley O'Hara as Phyllis, Douglass Montgomery as Doug, Edward Emery as Avery, Martin Berkeley as Sherman Maxwell, Lawrence Leslie as Curtis Maxwell, and Leonard Loan as Mull in. 103 showing attributable largely to the Guild's subscription audience and the presence of the Lunts, but it lost $19,000 for its producers.^

The failure of Meteor may be attributed to a number of variables.

Certainly, the collapse of the New York Stock Exchange was ill-timed for the debut of a play about the rise and fall of a financier's fortune.

Behrman pointed to other societal influences on Meteor's unfavorable reception in his autobiography:

The climate of the time was such, the p ro life ra tio n of private fortunes, the vision of "success," meaning money and power, which hung over everything 1i ke a canopy, made the speeches I wrote expressing a humanitarian point of view sound prissy and abstractionist. It couldn't be got right. We, the management, Terry He 1 burn, Lawrence Langner, Phil Moeller. . were stuck with Raphael Lord's obsession, just as he was.

The playwright elaborated on those sentiments in a Preface to Meteor that was included in a collection of his plays published in 193^*

Because of his dissatisfaction with the final version of Meteor, Behrman chose to reprint the fourth d ra ft of the s c rip t, not the acting ed itio n , in Farrar & Rinehart's collection of his plays. His discussion of the temper of the times in the Preface was tinged with some bitterness about the forcible revision of his play for production:

Raphael Lord . . . was accepted by those who read the play instantly and heartily at his own valuation, as an authen­ tic genius whose egomania it was a sin to controvert. (One actress, lovely and intelligent, told me that she wouldn't play Ann for anything in the world because a fte r she married Lord she stood-in the way of her husband's ambitions and attempted to thwart his greatness.') So completely was the ideal of the time presented by Lord, so indurated was the

^^Waldau, p. 69-

^^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 88. 1 0 4

belief in the miracles of individual achievement, so perva­ sive and hardbitten was the current megalomania, that even Lord's clairvoyance was accepted, not as a symptom, but as a possibility.1 This misconception was so urgent that it forced its way into the theatre and into rehearsals so that the points of view of Ann and Dr. Avery, the protagonists in the play of sanity and ordinary humanity, shrank like constitutional rights in a dictatorship. -5

Behrman also offered another, more personal reason for his fa ilu re to

rewrite Meteor successfully in an interview with Donald Asher, the son of his close friend, Daniel Asher, who committed suicide in June, 1929,

four months before Meteor' went into rehearsal:

I found that I couldn't concentrate on the rehearsals or the rewrites of Meteor because I was haunted by thoughts of Danny. I recall Alfred Lunt coming over to me to ask why I was so preoccupied. I couldn't even bring myself to tell him. Of course I couldn't say any of this . . . because I realized it would look as if I we re try in g to rind an alibi for the play, which was a fa ilu re .

Other sources corroborate Behrman's assertion that the rehearsal

period before the New York opening of Meteor was an especially nerve-

wracking time. Behrman wrote that "the rehearsal tour--sandwiched

between the performances of Capri ce— was as dolorous as the Caprice

performances were lightsome. . . . I was rewriting a ll the t i m e . " ^ 7

In his personal history of the Theatre Guild, The Magic Curtain, Lawrence

Langner recalled the fu tility of the production committee's attempts at

artistic collaboration: "Notwithstanding our efforts, the play refused

to come together, and nerves became very tense as the dreaded New York

^°^ldem, Preface to Meteor (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1934), p. 113-

106, As he r , p. 246.

107Be hrman, People In A D iary, p. 8 8 . 105

1 oR opening came closer and closer." His reminiscences included the description of Philip Moeller's hysterical breakdown after a particularly

fru stratin g rehearsal of Meteor in Boston, an event that Behrman recalled

in his autobiography, with the addendum: "I spent the evening in my

room rewriting with the hope of sparing him other breakdowns in the

future."109

While sociological, personal, and professional justifications may

p a rtia lly explicate the fa ilu re of Meteor, Behrman's notes for the play

reveal a dramaturgical flaw that was present from the beginning of his work on the play, a generic inconsistency that worsened over successive

revisions of the s c rip t. At the outset Meteor was, in Behrman's own words, a "metaphysical melodrama," a sympathetic portrait of one man’s

struggle with the "terrible gift" of clairvoyance. By the time Behrman

reached the fourth d ra ft of the play, his treatment o f the material

changed. Meteor became a serious topical drama about "a ll the a r r iv ­

istes, the little manipulators and demagogues, the high-powered

executives who, when their destinies were running high, saw in their

accidental and inflated careers, replicas of Napoleon's Great Success

Story."11® The transformation of the script from a melodrama into a

problem play was effected more in Behrman's mind than in the action of

the play.

108 Lawrence Langner, The Magic Curtain (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1951), p. 2if5.

109Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 88.

^®ldem, Preface to Meteor, p. 111. Behrman took notes on the changing nature of Lord's clairvoyance from the f i r s t d ra ft to the last version of Meteor. In the o rig in a l,

the "terrible gift" was simply an ability to read the future.^' In the

112 second draft it became "the vision of genius and its infallibility."

While working on the third draft, Behrman asked himself "if this gift could be made a symbol of human vanity, human arrogance, human ambi- 1 jO tio n ," and in the fourth version he viewed it as "a symptom of megalomania."^^ While Behrman's treatment of "the terrible gift" was made more symbolically significant as his work on the play progressed,

the melodramatic exposition of Lord's clairvoyance, as demonstrated in

the death of Sherman Maxwell, was omnipresent. Lord first used his

"gift" to kill "a big boy with no brain." His clairvoyance was presented

in the first act of Meteor in melodramatic terms. Behrman's expectation

that an audience could shift its perception of Lord's vision, in the

meager space of an act-break, to share his changed view of the gift as

a symptom of megalomania, was, to say the very least, a dramaturgical

overestimation.

In his autobiography, Behrman wrote of his work on the initial

stages of Serena Blandish, B rief Moment, and Meteor:

^ T. G. Notes, 29 September 1925, p- 2.

112 lb id ., 18 August 1927, P- 5-

113lb id ., 14 March 1928, p. 4.

1 ^Behrman, Preface to Meteor, p. 113. 107

I wonder now how 1 could have worked on them with such intensity, Couldn't I see that they were dubious ventures? I couldn't. I d id n 't suspect how inadequate these plays were until they were produced. ^ 5

Unfortunately for the Theatre Guild, Behrman did not share the dilemma of Raphael Lord.

^^Idem, People In A D iary, p. 26. CHAPTER IV

BIOGRAPHY

This is going to be i t — my great comedy. Behrman, Biography Notes, p. 15-

Biography, Behrman's third play for the Theatre Guild, was, in a sense, the playwright's own biography. Behrman's dramatization of a p o rtra it-p a in te r's attempt to chronicle the experiences of her unconven­ tional past emerged from his lite ra ry impressions of the lives of his contemporaries. The in itia l impetus for the play was derived from the dram atist's continued interest in Henri Bergson's theories of time.

Behrman's previous attempt to dramatize Bergson in Meteor had been a decided failure. Biography, by contrast, became an enormously successful expression of what Behrman termed his "leit-m otif of time."^

Marion Froude's biography in Behrman's play fulfilled two major functions. It was a plot device that effected the dramatic depiction of the protagonist's past lovers, and it was the symbol of a woman's futile attempt to capture the essence of time in her record of past experience.

One of Behrman's early notes for Biography included the reference to arr actual autobiography published in 1920:

^Biography Notes, 31 January 1932, S. N. Behrman Papers, Wisconsin State Historical Society, Madison, Wisconsin, p. 2. (Hereafter cited as B10 Notes. )

108 109

Woman, after b rillia n t career, suddenly conscious she is old because she has been asked by publisher to write her auto­ biography. How can I possibly do it without compromising everybody? What is the effect? Men frightened— they want to come off well in it . Men—statesmen--pugi1ists--what was the truth in each case? husband— . . . Big man—has she messed his career--Margot Asquith.^

Margot Tennant Asquith was the second wife of Herbert Henry Asquith, who was the Prime Minister of Great Britain from 1908 until 1916. In 1920,

eight years before her husband's death, Mrs. Asquith gained some notor­

iety with the publication of her two-volume Autobiography.3 Public

attention focussed on Mrs. Asquith's detailed chronicle of her amorous

adventures before her marriage to the future Prime Minister in 189**.

Herbert Begbie's criticism of Mrs. Asquith's memoirs was typical of the

reaction registered among some members of the upper classes:

There was a time when English aristocracy made its influence fe lt throughout the whole social organism from a privacy and a seclusion which were inviolate. . . . That time is past. . . . We could not have a better witness to this truth than Mrs. Asquith. She is not e v il; she is not base; she is by no means without good qualities. But how disastrously she has lost her way.' . . . The path into which her disposition urged her appears to have been the path of sensationalism. To be taken for a personality she had to be d iffe re n t. If the world went on its way, carrying the taper of modesty through the darkness of this human night, she would pin Catherine wheels to her front, fasten a Roman candle to her brow, and advance brandishing a rocket in either hand. In other words, Mrs. Asquith seems to me from the evidence of these pages delib­ erately to have sought notoriety by shock tactics. . . . Why is it published? What is the point of it? When you remember that Mrs. Asquith is fift y - s ix years of age, and reflected upon the fact that it served no political or social end to publish in 1920 so unpleasant an experience of her

^ Ib id ., 31 January 1932, p. 1.

3Ma rgot Asquith, An Autobiography, 2 vols. (New York: George H. Doran, 1920). no

eventful past, you w ill agree that there is an element here of persisting indelicacy, which in a young,woman is disagree­ able, but in an elderly one is disgusting.

In the second volume of her memoirs, Mrs. Asquith recorded a conver­ sation with her spiritual advisor, Dr. Benjamin Jowett, who was then

Master of Balliol College, Oxford University:

JOWETT: Would you like to have your life w ritten, Margot? MARGOT: Not much, unless it told the whole truth about me and every one and was indiscreet. If I could have a biographer like Froude . . . it would be divine, as no one would be bored by reading it.->

Mrs. Asquith's reference to the nineteenth-century historian James Anthony

Froude may have provided Behrman with the source for the surname of his dramatic biographer-heroine, "Marion Froude."

Behrman met Mrs. Asquith in January, 1928, when he was in London for the West-End production of The Second Man.^ He dined with Mrs. Asquith, her son "Puffin" and her married daughter, Princess Elizabeth Bibesco, the wife of the poet, playwright and diplomat Prince Antoine Bibesco.

Reflecting perhaps on Mrs. Asquith's advanced age, Behrman discounted her as a prototype and considered her daughter, Elizabeth Bibesco, as a possible model for the protagonist of Biography.? Behrman had decided that his heroine should have had a b r illia n t career. Princess Bibesco's social position and her own lite ra ry reputation provided Behrman with details of characterization that would make his fictional biographer's

^Herbert Begbie, The Glass of Fashion (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1921), pp. 38-48 passim.

^Asquith, p. 10*+.

^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 107.

7b 10 Notes, 12 March 1932, p. 7- Ill contact with prominent figures credible. In his memoirs, Behrman focussed on his impressions of Elizabeth Bibesco in a recollection of his meeting with the Asquith family:

Elizabeth Bibesco was a wonderful talker and certainly a prolific writer. She talked to me about the arts, her girl­ hood, which she spent talking with Aldous Huxley and Bertrand Russell, and about American politics. . . . I always fe lt a deep malaise in her, and that her writing and the flu c t­ uations in her brilliant and esoteric conversation led everywhere but to self-satisfaction. . . . Margot had a . great natural dignity; Puffin had it too; it was only in Elizabeth that I felt pursuit by the furies. Elizabeth's kindness was immeasurable; one wishes that she could share in it.

In his notes for Biography, Behrman wrote: "E. B.— a multi-colored psychology entering into every phase of life no matter how variegated--

. . . every time she starts to settle, to solidify--something always happens."9 Another note on the characterization of the protagonist bore some resemblance to Behrman's description of Princess Bibesco's kindness and pursuit by the furies: "This is a woman who can't settle down—whose

imagination—whose vision of fel i ci ty--outstr i ps the present actuality."^

Behrman's reflection on the protagonist's futile search for stabil­

ity led him to further ruminations concerning Bergson's theory of time.

In his early notes for the play, Behrman concentrated on the application of Bergson's philosophy to the concept of writing a biography:

biography idea . . . the effect of the haze of time interven­ ing between the present and the past--the impossibility on account of its curved hazy line to appraise the past--to know

^Behrman, People In A Diary, pp. 107-108.

9 b I0 Notes, 31 January 1932, p. 3.

101 b id ., /“ March 1932_7 112

what happened— and the point of Biography that, through what she does in the play, you get some approximation of what happened, not through what she tells of the past nor of what she herself thinks of the past.

Behrman continued, '‘think of time--think of time—distilled time,"12 and he reiterated his thoughts on the influence of time on his heroine's attempt to record the past: "she can't write her biography— because what

it is—was — is not what it is now—the impossibility of writing a bio­ graphy."^ In his final note on Bergson, Behrman added the thread of the heroine's ongoing quest for s ta b ility to his philosophical emphasis on

the inevitable f u t ilit y of recording past experience:

biography— shimmering character--why couldn't it be glamour and humor of people and the passing of time--the eternal enigma— and a person, timorous to s o lid ify --to commit herself— dramatized Bergson.

Behrman's in itia l reflections on Mrs. Asquith and Elizabeth Bibesco as possible models for the protagonist of Biography were linked to a

belief in what he termed his "special gift for feeling this sort of

thing— English memoirs— English opinions of Am erica."^ He wavered

between the choices of an English or American nationality for the heroine

of Biography as his work on the play continued. Early in March, 1932,

Behrman wrote: "Make it a depository of old-worlders, used up in this

11 Ib id ., 31 January 1932, p. 2.

1 bid., / “March 1932_7, p. 5.

13 I bid.

1/+lb id -, 15 March 1932, p. 7.

151 bid., 12 March 1932, p. 7. 113

country, and she American— different kind of Magda. In April he

returned to the concept of making his heroine an American abroad. As

Behrman characterized the idea, the protagonist would be "a Magda who wouldn't go horne."^

Behrman's reference to "Magda" was an illusion to Hermann Sudermann's

popular melodrama Die Heimat (1893), known in England and America as

Magda. Sudermann's play centered on the characterization of a rebellious

heroine, "Magda," who ran away from her Prussian household to study

singing. She is deserted by her lover, gives birth to his child, becomes

a prima donna and returns home. Magda meets her lover and thanks him for

making a woman out of her. Magda was acclaimed by some c ritic s as a

modern masterpiece that revealed the hypocrisy of bourgeois morality.

The popularity of the play, however, was also attributed to the more

conventional notion that "public opinion had decided long ago that prime

18 donne were above the law."

Behrman's stream of consciousness on the characterization of the

protagonist as an American "Magda" diverted him from his in itia l plan to

depict her as a noted British authoress. He retained the details of

Elizabeth Bibesco's kindness and temperamental wanderlust in his concep­

tion of the major character in Biography, but he began searching for

another profession for the protagonist. Stimulated perhaps by his thoughts

l6lbid., /March 1932_/, p. k.

171 b id ., k April 1932, p. 19.

^M. Willson Disher, Me 1 odrama (New York: Macmillan, 195*0, P* 137- n 4 concerning Magda, Behrman considered the opera star Grace Moore as a

possible model for Marion F r o u d e . *9 On March 15, 1932, he noted, "Make

90 her a clever understanding mercenary Grace Moore."

Grace Moore was a star of the Metropolitan Opera from 1928 until

1933* She was born in Slabtown, Tennessee, but her family later made two

21 successive moves to Jellicoe and Knoxville, Tennessee. One of the details that Behrman later included in Marion Froude's background in

Biography was that like Grace Moore, she spent her adolescence in Knox- 22 v ille , Tennessee. Behrman's consideration of Grace Moore as a model for Marion Froude seems to have been limited to his choice of an American home-town for his protagonist and his interest in the dramatic potential of opera as a profession. Behrman b riefly considered using Grace Moore's given name as the first name of his central character in Biography. In an early note on a character description of the protagonist, Behrman experimented with the epithet "Grace Goodyear--first American woman with 27 this kind of international--." One week later he suggested the char-

24 acter name "Grace Foude," and in his notes for the same day, Behrman fin a lly concluded to name his character "Marion Froude."2-*

'^BIO Notes, /March 1932 /, p. 4.

20Ib id ., p. 13.

^Grace Moore, You're Only Human Once (New York: Doubleday, 1 9 ^ ), pp. 12, 24.

22Behrman, Biography (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1932), act 2, p. 122.

^^BIO Notes, "Second Series," 7 April 1932, p. 4.

2**lbid., 14 April 1932, p. 9-

25|b id ., p. 11. 115

The aspect of Miss Moore's career that interested Behrman most was

her international reputation as a prima donna. In order for Behrman to develop his outline of the leading character as an American "Magda," he

needed to place Marion Froude in a career that necessitated European

travel. Miss Moore's profession suited Behrman's intentions for Marion

Froude, but the selection also presented some d iffic u ltie s . The resem­

blance between Marion Froude and Grace Moore would be immediately recog­

nizable if Behrman designated his protagonist as a Tennessee-born prima donna. Miss Moore's tenure at the Metropolitan Opera House coincided with the period of Behrman's work on Biography. I f Behrman persisted in

his plan to depict a woman at the end of a b r illia n t career, the charac­

terization might be construed as the dramatist's projected opinion of

Miss Moore's power to endure as an opera star. Grace Moore was certainly

an acquaintance of Behrman, since she belonged to social circles that

included many of the playwright's closest friends. In the early I930's,

Miss Moore was one of the members of Alexander Woollcott's "vicious

circle" at the Algonquin Hotel, and her acquaintances in the field of

music included Behrman's friends, the music c r itic for the New York World,

Samuel Chotzinoff, and violinist Jasha Heifetz.

Another celebrated participant in Woollcott's "Algonquin Round Table"

luncheons was the illu s tra to r and portrait-painter, Neysa McMein, who was

Moore, p. 53. Woollcott was appearing in Behrman's play Brief Moment while he was writing Biography. 116 also a close friend of Grace Moore.2^ In March, 1932, Behrman wrote the

following note:

Neysa— the last time— the last a ffa ir — about to marry— breaks it o f f - - f ir s t act curtain— the biography— friend of fiance's— the publisher--gives him a chapter--he reads a chapter--breaks it o f f .2°

Two weeks later, when Behrman focussed his energies on reaching a final decision regarding the career of his protagonist, he suggested the

possibility of making her a sculptor: "She's made busts of many famous men . . . and she realizes it's the subjects and not her art that made

her famous, and realizing it keeps the curse o ff i t . " 2^ At the conclusion of that note Behrman suggested an alternative: "or painter— N. McMein."3^

Neysa McMein specialized in portraits and in cover designs for such magazines as The Saturday Evening Post, The Woman's Home Companion,

Col Tier's and McCa11's. The subjects of her serious portraits included

Jack Dempsey, President Warren G. Harding, Chief Justice Charles Evan 31 Hughes, Charlie Chaplin, and Jasha Heifetz. Behrman eventually trans­

ferred the details of Neysa McMein's career to his characterization of

of Marion Froude in Biography. In the first-act exposition of Biography,

Behrman attributed Marion Froude's commercial success to the extreme

notoriety of her s itte rs .32 Behrman also included a scene in Act One in

27|bid.

28B10 Notes, /“ March 1932_7, p. 6.

29 |b id ., 21 March 1932, p. 1^.

30lbid.

New York Times, 13 May 19^9, p. 23. 32 J Behrman, Bfography, act I, p. 21. 117 which Marion receives a commission to paint the portrait of her childhood sweetheart, Leander Nolan, who is a candidate from Tennessee for the

United States Senate. Behrman's dialogue for Marion Froude included the line: " I ' l l make you look like Warren G. H a r d i n g . H a r d i n g had been one of Neysa McMein's most celebrated models.

As Behrman developed the character of Marion Froude in Biography, he decided that she should fa ll in love with "Richard Kurt," the young editor of her manuscript. As the action of the play progresses, the motivation for Kurt's determination to publish Marion's autobiography changes from an in itia l mercenary interest in the sale of her book to a more passionate desire to launch a personal vendetta against Marion's past lovers. Marion subsequently yields to her genuine affection for the paramours mentioned in her autobiography, and she compassionately

resolves to destroy the manuscript of her book to save them from undue embarrassment. When Behrman elaborated in his notes on Marion's a ffa ir with Kurt and her final decision to destroy her autobiography, he

recorded the observation: "Enid Jones is pretty good model for this ch aracter."^ Behrman's note was a reference to the wife of Lord

Roderick Jones, known professionally as Enid Bagnold. In 1927, Jed

Harris bought Behrman's dramatization of Bagnold's novel Serena Blandish.

The novel had been published under the pseudonym, "By a Lady of Leisure."

Behrman did not know the identity of the author until Noel Coward

arranged for their meeting in January, 1928. Coward informed Behrman

33|bid., act 1, p. 60.

3^BI0 Notes, "Second Series," 14 April 1932, p. 16. 118 that Lady Jones was an "enchanting creature," who was also "unfortunately, at the moment in love with Jed H arris."^5 Harris met Enid Bagnold when he negotiated the rights for his production of Serena Blandish. Behrman's reflections on Enid Bagnold's affection for Jed Harris and her decision to publish her novel anonymously may have stimulated the comparison between Lady Jones and Marion Froude. Jed Harris was eleven years younger than Enid Bagnold. A similar age difference exists between

Richard Kurt and Marion Froude in Biography. Enid Bagnold's decision to publish her novel under a pseudonym was motivated by concern for her elderly father's social status and her husband's position as the head of

Reuter's. In her autobiography, Bagnold described her father's reaction to Serena Bland ish:

Innocently I sent him the typescript before it was printed. He absolutely forbade publication. He said he couldn't go into his club in London if it was known that his daughter had written it. 'I should feel,' he said flatly to my husband, 'as if she'd been raped under a hedge by a sergeant.' That is why it was published under a pseudonym.^

Bagnold apprised Behrman of the reasons for her lite ra ry anonymity when she met him in London in 1928.^7 Marion Froude's decision to destroy the manuscript of her autobiography was motivated, in part, by a similar concern for its probable effect on the lives of her friends.

While Behrman was experimenting with various approaches to the characterization of his biographer, Marion Froude, he took scattered

35Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 10^.

^Enid Bagnold, Enid Bagnold's Autobiography (Boston: L ittle , Brown, 1969 ), P* 19-

^^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 106. 119 notes on ideas for the remaining characters in Biography. Behrman was excited by the prospect of including "all sorts of fantastic characters— the pugilist, movie-actor, stuffed-shirt" in what he termed his "satire on this age of frankness."^ He particularly wanted to communicate "the pathos of the celebrities of the near-past."39

The fir s t celebrity Behrman considered was a figure from his own

"near-past:" "Open with Oscar Strauss scene. Great composer— she met him fir s t when she was a young g i r l . " ^ Oskar Straus, the noted composer of Viennese waltzes, was best known in America for his operetta The

Chocolate Soldier, based on Shaw's Arms and the Man. In 1930 Straus was hired by Warner Brothers to compose the musical scores for a number of films. He arrived in New York on January 27, 1930 and conducted a radio performance of The Chocolate Soldier on the following day.*** George

Gershwin, who was Behrman's close friend, gave a party for the Austrian

1. A composer during his stay in New York City. z On January 28 a luncheon was held in Straus's honor at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel.**3 Behrman alluded to that luncheon in his notes for Biography:

Strauss— . . . big dinner Ritz-Carlton— . . . capitalizes on his past reputation . . . a ll they know is my European reputation— they don't know I'm through— . . . she kisses

^ B IO Notes, 31 January 1932, p. 1.

391 bid., 15 March 1932, p. 13-

^ Ib id ., 31 January 1932, p. 1. Behrman consistently misspelled the name of the Viennese composer, Oskar Straus.

^ New York Times, 27 January 1930, p. 18.

^Edward Jablonski and Lawrence Stewart, The Gershwin Years (New York: Doubleday, 1958), p. 159-

^New York Times, 29 January 1930, p. 26 120

him— . . . pathos of i t — h i s s ittin g there and knowing— knowing she recalls his early triumphs.

Behrman's implication that Straus was at the end of his career in 1930 was associated with the fact that the composer's last major piece, The

Chocolate Soldier, was produced in 1909- When Warner Brothers hired him, he was sixty-one years old. Behrman seriously considered using Straus as a model for one of Marion's past lovers, but he fin a lly decided that adopting the detail of the composer's advanced age might create a problem

in his characterization of Marion Froude. For the scene that he had planned in which Marion would recall the composer's melodies, Behrman noted: "she can't recall them too vividly without dating herself.

Behrman fin a lly resolved to use "Fall instead of Strauss"^ as the model for his dramatic depiction of a European composer. Behrman met

the Austrian composer Richard Fall when he was contracted by Twentieth

Century-Fox to collaborate with the screenwriter Sonya Levien on the

script for a film production of Ferenc Molnar's Li 1iom. Richard Fall was the younger brother of Leo Fall, a noted Viennese composer whose

best-known works in the United States were the operettas The Do11ar

Pri ncess and Madame Pompadour . ^ In 1929, Winfield Sheehan, the head

of production for Fox, believed that he hired Leo Fall to compose the

^ B10 Notes, 31 January 1932, p. 3-

^ |b id .

^ Ib id ., "Second Series," k April 1932, p. 11.

**?New York Times, 17 September 1925, p- 23. 121 score for Li 1iom. Behrman recorded what was later revealed to be

Sheehan's interview with a doppelganger in his memoirs:

Winnie had just returned from abroad and he was pleased to be able to te ll me that in Vienna he had engaged Leo Fall to write the score for L i1iom. This did entice me. I knew Leo Fall's music through Oscar Levant, who never tired of playing the score of Madame Pompadour for me. J~never tired of it either; it was a most beguiling score.

The mystery of Sheehan's alleged negotiations with Leo Fall was solved at a dinner given by Sonya Levien and her husband, Carl Hovey, on the occasion of the composer's arrival in Hollywood in 1930. Behrman recorded their conversation as follows:

Carl and Sonya kept calling Mr. Fall "Richard." "Haven't they got your name wrong?" I interposed at one point. 1 addressed Mr. Fall directly: " Is n 't your name Leo?" Mr. Fall said: "Leo is my brother." "Really?" I said. I was quite shattered; I saw that Winfield Sheehan, in the intox­ ication of Viennese life, had made a clerical error. Richard Fall went on to te ll me that his brother Leo was a marvelous composer, far more successful than he, Richard, was, and rattled off a list of Leo's operettas, including Madame Pompadour. I asked whether Leo had met Mr. Sheehan in Vienna. "We asked Leo," said Richard, "but he refused to come. My wife and I were sure that he refused deliberately. We were convinced, weren't we, Tina," he addressed his wife, who was smiling at the joke, "that Leo was afraid Mr. Sheehan would engage him instead of me and he didn't want to cost me a job."

Behrman combined the anecdote about Winfield Sheehan's m isidentification of the Fall brothers with his observations on the Straus dinner to create

^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 13*f.

^Ibid., pp. 143-1^. Mrs. Fall may have been smiling, rather, at her husband's efforts to cover for his host's ignorance of the fact of his brother's death. Leo Fall died in 1925- He was in no position to give the least consideration to Sheehan's proposal. Behrman corrected the error in the characterization in Biography that was drawn from his acquaintance with Richard Fall. 122 a firs t-a c t scene between the composer Victor Feydak and Marion Froude.

In Biography, Behrman chose to designate Waldo Feydak, the Leo Fall

character, as one of Marion's past lovers. The playwright's characters zation of Victor Feydak was based on his reminiscences of Richard Fall and Oskar Straus. The following scene depicts Victor's reunion with

Marion six years after his brother's death:

FEYDAK: Things have been going from bad to worse in Vienna— you haven't been there since '25 so you don't know. The theatre's pretty well dead—even the first-rate fellows have had a hard time making their way. I managed to get several scores to do--but they were not--except that they were failures--up to my usual standard. . . . MARION: (Laughing, reproachful.) Oh, Feydie. . . .' FEYDAK: If it weren't for the money Waldi le ft me—and you.' — I don't know how we should have got through at a ll these six years. About a month ago we reached the end of our rope—we were hopelessly in debt— no means of getting out—when the miracle happened. . . . It was my dramatic agent on the phone. A great American film magnate was in town and wanted to see me. Ausgerechnet me and no other. Even my agent couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. Well, we went around to the Bristol to see the magnate. And, as we talked to him, it gradually became apparent. He thought I was Waldi. He didn't know Waldi was dead.1 He thought I had written "Danubia". MARION: Did he say so? FEYDAK: No—not at a ll. But as we shook hands at the end he said to me: "Any man that can write a tune like this is the kind of man we want." And he whistled, so out of tune that I could hardly recognize it myself, the waltz from Danubia. . . . He was so innocent, so affable that I had an impulse to say to him: "Look here, old fellow, you don't want me, you want my brother and, in order to get him you'll have to resurrect him.'" But noble impulses are luxury impulses. You have to be well o ff to gratify them. I kept quiet. We shook hands and here I am. Tonight they're giving me a dinner at the Waldorf Astoria for the press to meet my brother.' Irony if you like, eh, Marion? . . . MARION: You under-rate yourself, Feydie. . . . How this would have amused him— this incident with the 123

Hollywood man.' . . . Don't resent him now, Feydie. . . . Why, it's such fun--don't you see? It's such a curious, marginal survival for him--that a badly-remembered waltz-tune, five years after his death, should be the means of helping you at a moment when you need it so badly. . . .

In his dramatic depiction of the American film magnate modelled after

51 Winfield Sheehan, Behrman alluded to Sheehan's actual tone-deafness by including the detail of the executive's whistling "Danubia" "so out of tune" that it was hardly recognizable.

With his characterization of the Austrian composer under way,

Behrman turned his attention to the creation of the character that became

"Richard Kurt," the young editor and publisher of Marion Froude's memoirs. Behrman intended to express both an ideological and romantic conflict in his depiction of the relationship between the publisher and his client. On March 15, 1932, he noted: "The young publisher who gives her the chance himself falls in love with h e r. "52 Hecontinued:

Can see a good character for that fellow—destructive, believes in nothing, . . . Jack Reed . . . boy's back­ ground— father shot in labor dispute--utter cynic--she finds it out—draws it out of him--so that you get, not only her biography, but the others'--so that the play w ill become a dramatized biography— but to focus on the action and into the future, and the final point will be the impossibility of ever writing it—maybe someone w ill, but it w ill be false, and it w ill be a lie — you must convey a genius in this boy and in her too.”

50b iography Manuscript #1, 8 April 1932 - 9 June 1932, act 1, pp. 2-3.

-^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 13^.

52BI0 Notes, 15 March 1932, p. 9-

53 I bid ., p. 11. 12b

Behrman gleaned a number of anecdotes about the self-professed Communist,

John Reed, from his friendship with Carl Hovey.^ Hovey's wife was Sonya

Levien, Behrman's collaborator on Li 1iom for Twentieth Century-Fox in

1930. Hovey had been the editor of the Metropolitan Magazine in New York; he commissioned several articles from John Reed. In 1917 Reed held the

"rather mythical post of 'Bolshevist Consul General in New York,1 an office to which Washington remained blind."^5 Reed's reputation as a political activist was strengthened further by his well-publicized arrests for political agitation and indictments for sedition that were lodged against him in the interval between his graduation from Harvard in 1910 and his death in Russia in 1920. Behrman borrowed Reed's radicalism for his p ortrait of Richard Kurt in Biography. For the fir s t act of his play,

Behrman wrote a scene in which Kurt's ill-mannered barbs against capital­ ism were contrasted with a politician's defense of the status quo.

Marion Froude's comic function in the scene was to provide, in equal measure, doses of tea and mediation:

MARION: I'm so glad to see you again, Mr. ------.... KURT: Kurt. MARION: Oh. . . . KURT: With a K. MARION: Oh— I ' l l try to remember. This is Senator Nolan— Mr. Kurt. . . . NOLAN: I am not Senator Nolan. MARION: But you w ill be. (She offers him a cup of tea, he takes i t . ) Can't I just call you that— between ourselves? It gives me such a sense of quiet power. And maybe i t ' l l impress my v is ito r. Do have a cup of tea, Mr. Kurt. (She gives him one.)

■^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 1^0.

5^New York Times, 19 October 1920, p. 18. 125

KURT: I am not impressed by politicians. And I didn't come here to drink tea. I am here on business. (Nevertheless he takes a hearty sip.) MARION: Well, you can do both. They do in England. American business-men are so tense. KURT: I'm not a business-man. NOLAN: Well, whatever you are, you are very ill-mannered. KURT: (Pleased.) That's true.' MARION: Isn't it nice you agree. For a moment I thought you weren't going to h it it o ff. . . . NOLAN: In my day if a boy came in and behaved like this before a lady he'd be horse-whipped. KURT: Well, when you get into the Senate you can intro­ duce a horsewhipping b ill. Probably bring you great kudos. NOLAN: You talk like a Bolshevik. KURT: Thank you.' You talk 1 i ke a Senator.' MARION: (Quickly offering more tea.) Another cup, Mr. Kurt. , KURT: (Taking i t . ) Thank you.-*

In 1965 Oscar Levant claimed that Behrman used his brashness and directness as a prototype for the characterizations in some of his

plays.57 Behrman's depiction of Kurt's brash, direct social manner in

Biography seems to provide evidence for Levant's assertion, but the notes

for the play do not corroborate the claim. The notes for Biography

indicate, rather, that Behrman considered the playwright George Bernard

Shaw as a model for Richard Kurt. Concerning the tension between Kurt's

political radicalism and Marion Froude's contrasting attitude of social

tolerance, Behrman wrote: "he despises her— hard Communistic fanatical

principles—and he falls in la/e with h e r. "58 Behrman continued:

"Yes—hefs austere like Bernard Shaw— read Shaw-Terry letters— you've

S^Behrman, Biography, act 1, pp. 64-66.

5^0scar Levant, Memoirs of an Amnesiac (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1965), p. 75.

58 BIO Notes, 15 March 1932, p. 11. 126

got a great chance to do modern young crusader with him and let yourself go on him."59

Richard Kurt's relationship with Marion Froude in Biography bears a

striking resemblance to Shaw's seeming misalliance with Ellen Terry. Shaw

offered the following explanation for his adoration of Ellen Terry in his

preface to the collection of their correspondence published in 1931:

Now I claim that no male writer born in the nineteenth century outside Norway and Sweden did more to knock woman o ff her pedestal and plant her on the solid earth than I. But as, like a ll reactionaries, I was steeped in the tendency against which I was reacting, it was part of my conventional manners to concede a pedestal to every woman as such; and naturally in approaching a woman as goddess like as Ellen Terry I did not pause to consider whether this attitude would have gained the approval of Ibsen or Strindberg. I do not ju s tify it: it is really a relic of relations between men and women which are not only happily outmoded but insufferable. S till, there it was for what it was worth. 0

Similarly, Richard Kurt in Biography rants against everything that Marion

Froude represents, and yet he falls in love with her He claims that he

despises the fact that Marion is "Bohemian," "to leran t," "sentimental,"

"casual," and "detached."^ Kurt's list of specific grievances against

Marion's life style is appended to his somewhat misogynous generalization

that a ll women are a "nuisance," f and i ? yet in the love scene that closes

the second act of Biography Behrman indicates that Kurt sinks to his

59|bid., 21 March 1932, p. 15-

^George Bernard Shaw, Preface to Ellen Terry and Bernard Shaw: A Correspondence, ed. Christopher St. John (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1931), p* xi.

^Behrman, Biog raphy, pp. 10, 7^, 86, 153, 155 -

^Ib i d., p. 68. 127 knees beside the woman he loves, exclaiming, "Marion, my a n g e l . Shaw's self-contradictory impulse to give Ellen Terry her pedestal is akin to

Kurt's exception of Marion Froude from his dogmatic objection to her

"type" of woman in Biography.

Behrman's use of the relationship between Bernard Shaw and Ellen

Terry was not limited to his dramatic depiction of Kurt's uncharacteristic deification of Marion Froude in Biography. Behrman also adopted the detail of Shaw's defense of Ellen Terry's morality for his dramatization of the relationship between Kurt and Marion Froude. In his preface to

their published correspondence, Shaw observed of Ellen Terry:

She was a woman of very exceptional virtue without having the smallest respect for the law. She did not care enough about it to have even a prejudice against it. If the man of her choice was free, she married him. If the marriage was not a success, she le ft him. She had many enduring friendships, some transient fancies, and five domestic partnerships of which two were not legalized. . . . She was not in the least what is called a grande amoureuse. . . . One may say that her marriages were adventures and her friendships enduring.

Sim ilarly, in Biography, Richard Kurt praises Marion as "courageous and

fo rth rig h t,"^5 and he denounces Marion's detractor, Leander Nolan, asa

"hypocritical s e n s u a lis t .B e h r m a n also composed a scene between

Marion Froude and Leander Nolan in which Marion's defense of her own

morality resembled Shaw's explication of Ellen Terry's lawlessness:

^ I b i d . , p. 164.

^Shaw, p. xi i i .

^Behrman, Biog raphy, act 1, p. 78.

661bid., act 1, p. 73. 128

NOLAN: This confounded story.' Are you really writing it? MARION: Well, yes— I am. . . . NOLAN: Opportunity.1 Cheap exhibitionism.' A chance to flaunt your a ffa irs in a rag like this. (Indicat­ ing magazine on piano.) I won't be drawn into it. 1 can te ll you that.' MARION: (After a pause.) I know that by your standards, I'm a loose character. But there are other standards, there just are. NOLAN: Not in Tennessee.1 MARION: I'm afraid you're provincial. . . . NOLAN: I'm sorry. MARION: I don't care what the advertisements say about my story— I know what I'm w riting. • . . NOLAN: I'm sorry. MARION: That's a ll right. (But this has gone pretty deep.)6?

Behrman adopted Shaw's description of Ellen Terry's individual ethical code for his characterization of Marion Froude as Richard Kurt's "Ellen

Terry" in Biography.

The remaining male characters in Biography formed a collection of

Marion Froude's past or potential lovers. Behrman's early lis t of possibilities for types of male characterizations included a playwright, a movie-actor, a financier, a pugilist, and a wealthy publisher. By May

31, 1932, Behrman's ambivalence concerning the inclusion of the pugilist character was resolved: the prize-fighter was eliminated from the cast of characters for Biography.6^ Behrman's early determination to include

playwright, a movie-actor, and a financier might have been allied with

the fact that he was writing B?ography as a vehicle for the actress

6?lbid., act 2, pp. 122-125 passim.

66BI0 Notes, "Second Series," 31 May 1932, p. 29- 129

Laurette T a y l o r . ^ Miss Taylor was married to the playwright Hartley

Manners, who was a close friend and confidant of the financier Charles

Schwab. From 1924 until 1926, Laurette Taylor had an a ffa ir with the film actor, John Gilbert.Early in A pril, 1932, Behrman noted: "Can't see enough in the playwright to justify.The possible Hartley Manners character was eliminated. Behrman's models for the financier and the movie-actor in Biography were Charles Schwab and John G ilbert, respec­ tiv ely . Both men were included in the later biography of Laurette

Taylor, who was the actress Behrman designated to play his fictional b i og raphe r-heroine,- Marion Froude.

Behrman's fir s t note on the Charles Schwab character was:

she's had a ffa ir with man now very famous— of towering fame— Schwab— seduced her in Tennessee town—worried to death she'll reveal and she laughs and says she had almost forgotten— so amateurish— and he comes back again and worried she'll say that and falls in love again.

Charles Schwab was indeed a man of "towering fame." The Midas touch of his industrial genius was demonstrated by his direction of the Bethlehem

Steel Company. Schwab acquired Bethlehem Steel in 1902. Thirty years later, at the time when Behrman was writing Biography, Bethlehem Steel's

^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 137* References to Miss Taylor as "L. T." appear twice in the notes for Biography, on 12 March 1932, p. 5; and 4 April 1932, p. 5-

7°Margurite Courtney, Laurette (New York: Rinehart, 1955), pp. 272, 276-278, 290 .

7^BI0 Notes, "Second Series," 7 April 1932, p. 6.

7 2 |b id ., March 1932, p. 4. 130

assets totalled over one b illio n d o lla rs .73 Behrman subsequently

decided to a lte r the profession of the character based on Schwab. On

March 15. 1932, he wrote: "Perhaps a different type— not a Schwab— about

to make a b rillia n t marriage— a b r illia n t appointment— . . . why not

political?"7^ Behrman changed the detail of the character's profession

from finance to po litics. The original Schwab character evolved into

"Leander Nolan," who was designated as a prospective candidate for the

United States Senate from Tennessee. Behrman transferred the background detail of Schwab's seduction of Marion Froude that was mentioned in his

early notes for the play to the new characterization of Leander Nolan.

There are no references in the notes for Biography to a specific model

for the modified characterization of the p o litician . Although the

original financier became a politician, Behrman consistently referred to

Nolan as "Schwab" in his notes for Biography.

Behrman's original idea for the fourth male character in Biography was associated with his initial depiction of Schwab. He intended to

include "a bigger figure still"75 than Schwab who would function as

another of Marion's past lovers. The figure that Behrman imagined as a

model was William Randolph Hearst: "Comes in on situation in middle of

second act— Hearst to suppress—marvelous chance— publisher— my mistress

will be furious."7^ When Behrman altered his characterization of Schwab,

7^New York Times, 19 September 1939, p- 25.

7**B|Q Notes, 15 March 1932, p. 8.

751bid., p. 10.

761b i d. however, he also modified Hearst's dramatic function. Hearst became the politician's financial backer and future father-in-law. Behrman wrote of the prospective Senator: "his finance— Hearst's daughter."77 The motive for the Hearst character's attempted suppression of Marion Froude's auto­ biography consequently changed frcm a personal desire to protect his own reputation to a pragmatic need to protect his future son-in-law's p o litical career. As Behrman worked on the development of the Hearst characterization, he was inspired to change the prototype for the publisher from William Randolph Hearst to Bernarr McFadden. McFadden's professional reputation was based largely on his publication of the popular magazine

Li berty, but he was better known popularly for his avocation, which consisted of an "untiring agitation for health by means of what amounted to almost a cult of the b o d y . "7® Behrman's decision to change the model for the publisher from Hearst to McFadden allowed him to exploit the potentially comic elements inherent in McFadden's health fetish.

McFadden's influence on American popular opinion was reported as follows:

There were those who classified him as a faddist, many of them in the medical profession; but the personality of Bernarr McFadden was not to be denied by the masses who read True Story Magazine, True Romance and last but not least, Physical Culture, which fir s t appeared in I 898 as a five-cent pamphlet and grew to a circulation of half a million a month. His influence was two-fold. He preached vegetarianism and physical culture, and by publishing photographs of men and women in the near-nude he brought about new ideas regarding indecency in poster and magazine i 1 lustratio n.79

7 7|b id ., "Act Two," 6 May 1932, pp. 7-8.

78New York Times, 13 October 1955, p. 31. 132

Behrman's final characterization of "Orrin Kinnicott" was clearly based

on McFadden. In a second-act scene in Biography, Marion Froude's exposition of Kinnicott could easily substitute for a description of

McFadden:

MARION: Tell me—your father-in-law , is he the man with the chest-expansion? NOLAN: He's a fine sturdy man— as you perhaps know, he makes a fetish of exercise. MARION: You see his pictures in shorts in Health Magazines. NOLAN: There's no disgrace in that. MARION: It doesn't shock me, . . . I was just identifying him, that's al 1. ^

Behrman used McFadden's fanatical interest in health for comic effect in

some third-act dialogue in which Marion Froude feigns interest in

Kinnicott's fetish in order to'charm him into consenting to the publi­

cation of her autobiography:

MARION: It seems so strange to see you with a ll your clothes on. It seems a pity—as an artist I must say it seems a p ity --to conceal that wonderful chest-development that I've admired so often in The Body B eautiful. KINNICOTT: That's neither here nor there. MARION: It seems to me that it's decidedly the re.

KINNICOTT: — You're not at a ll what I expected to meet. MARION: No? What did you think I'd be like? Tell me--l ‘d love to know. KINNICOTT: Well, you're kind of homey— you know— folksey. MARION: Folksey. . . . After a ll there's no reason I shouldn't be, is there? I'm just a smal1-town g irl from Tennessee. I sometimes wonder at myself— how I ever got so far away. . . . KINNICOTT Metabol i sm.' MARION I beg your pardon. . . . KINNICOTT I always say— take most of the bad men and most of the loose women—and correct their metabolism and you'll correct them.

^Behrman, Biography, act 2, pp. 128-129. 133

MARION: Really? . . . Imagine—with one's metabolism disciplined early in life—how far one could go. KINNICOTT It's not too 1 a te J MARION Isn 't it? KINNICOTT Er. . . . What are you doing tomorrow evenin'? . . Will you have dinger with me? MARION: I'd be delighted.

Behrman's fifth and final male characterization i n Biography was the depiction of a movie star described by Marion Froude as "one of the most Op famous people in the world" for his "ubiquitous p ro file ."0^ Behrman

revealed the identity of his model for the character he named "Warwick

Wilson" in his notes: "Movie actor— chance to do a po rtrait of a movie

actor— defunct— Gilbert?"8^ After the death of Rudolph Valentino in

1926, John Gilbert became the leading romantic idol of the American

cinema. His popularity lasted only until 1930, however, because

G ilbert's vocal range and melodramatic acting style proved inadequate

84 after the film industry made the transition to movies with sound. In

his brief second-act appearance in Biography, the "extremely handsome

and emotionally explosive"8^ Warwick Wilson arrives at Marion Froude's

apartment to convince her to include their past romance in her auto­

biography. Wilson hopes that Marion's "publicity" w i11 revitalize his

waning popularity. He announces that he plans to give up acting to

become a producer: Gilbert made a similar professional "choice" after

81 Ibid., act 3, pp. 195-196; 203-207 passim.

8^lbid., act 2, p. 120.

83 b 10 Notes, 31 January 1932, p. 1.

8^Richard G riffith , "John G ilb ert," DAB, Supplement 2 (New York: Scribner's, 1958), p. 233 -

^Behrman, Biography, act 2, p. 105- 13*f

1930. Behrman's use of John Gilbert as a model for Warwick Wilson must have had a special significance for Ina Claire, the actress who played

Marion Froude. The casting of Biography demonstrated Oscar Wilde's dictum that life does occasionally imitate fiction. Miss Claire was married to John Gilbert from 1929 until 1931* In 1932 she played Marion

Froude, Warwick WiIson's former lover.

By March 20, 1932, Behrman had completed most of his preliminary outlines for the characters in Biography. He speculated that writing the play would "be a wonderful adventure to the end."86 One week later he noted: "I would like to rush through this— to drop everything— to work day and night— but add piece by piece."87 Behrman's method for writing Biography was considerably less rigid than his technique for the composition of his e a rlie r plays. He did not construct a scenario for

Biography. On April 8, 1932, he began writing the first draft of

Biography without his customary precis of the projected action of the play. He revised the completed first-act sections of the script as he worked on new dialogue for the second and third acts. The character names in the fir s t d ra ft of Biography change from scene to scene, reflecting Behrman's continual revision of the play. On May 5, 1932,

Behrman wrote the "Curtain" for the fir s t act of his manuscript. On the following day he reviewed the cast of characters:

8^ b 10 Notes, 20 March 1932, p. 14.

87 |b id ., 26 March 1932, p. 15- 135

Marion Froude Vicki Richard Kurt Mi nnie Leander Nolaji (McFadden (prize-fighter (movie-actor • . . line that Hearst backing Schwab— McFadden backing Nolan.00

Behrman's bracketing of the first five character names in the list was his reminder that he had introduced those figures in Act One. The h alf­ parentheses around the remaining three names were marks referring to the characters that would appear in the remaining two acts. Behrman's notation also indicates his selection of character names for the figures in Act One: "Marion Froude" for the biographer-heroine; "Vicki" for the Austrian composer; "Richard Kurt" for the young editor; "Minnie" for Marion's British maid; "Leander Nolan" for the p o litician . The note also reveals that Behrman continued to think about the p o litician and the wealthy publisher in terms of the identities of their models.

Behrman subsequently eliminated the prize-fighter, and he added the character of Leander Nolan's fiance, who was also "McFadden's" daughter.

McFadden was named "Orrin Kinnicott," and his daughter's given name became "Slade." The Austrian composer was renamed "Melchior Feydak," and the movie actor was given the name "Warwick." On May 31, 1932,

Behrman composed a lis t of the cast of characters in the f ir s t draft: the dramatis personae remained unchanged through the final version of

Biography:

^ I b i d . , "Act Two," 6 May 1932, p. 7- 136

Marion Froude Nolan Richard Kurt Orrin Kinnicott Slade Melchoir Feydak (Victor Feydak was his brother) Wa rw i ck Minnie®^

The entire action of the fir s t draft of Biography is set in the New

York studio apartment of Marion Froude. The curtain rises on Richard

Kurt's impatient interrogation of Miss Froude's British maid, Minnie.

Kurt had scheduled a business appointment with Marion, who is late. The doorbell rings and Minnie admits Melchior Feydak, who decides to wait for Marion's a rriv a l. Feydak attempts to engage Kurt in w itty conversa­ tion, but Kurt discourages Feydak's "glibness." Kurt continues their talk with an attack on verbal wit, social gallantry, and the life style of Bohemians until Feydak interrupts his diatribe with the remark that

Kurt's "technique" of deliberate rudeness is wasted on him. Kurt then

believes that he recognizes Feydak. He asks about Feydak's name and

profession. When Feydak remarks that he is a Viennese composer, Kurt

replies that he thought that Feydak was dead. After further questioning,

Kurt realizes that he has confused Melchior Feydak with his deceased

brother, the noted operetta composer Victor Feydak. Kurt is extremely

embarrassed and apologizes for the error. He prepares to leave as

Marion Froude enters. Kurt berates Marion for neglecting their business

appointment. Marion apologizes, then notices Feydak. She embraces him

and asks Kurt to leave so that she may speak privately with Feydak.

® 9|bid., "Second Series," 31 May 1932, p. 29. Kurt is annoyed at the further delay of their meeting, but he reluctantly agrees to postpone their appointment until later that day. Marion and

Feydak then reminisce about their experiences in Vienna, where Marion had been Victor Feydak's mistress. She has not seen Melchior Feydak since Victor's death six years ago. Feydak informs Marion that his brother bequeathed half of his fortune to her, but he adds that pressing financial circumstances forced him to spend her share of the bequest.

Marion is pleased that Victor remembered her in his w ill, and she assures

Feydak that she doesn't mind his spending the inheritance. Feydak informs

Marion that he w ill be able to repay her soon because he has recently been contracted by an American film producer to compose the scores for a series of movies. He explains that the company believes that they hired his brother Victor. Marion senses that Feydak is unhappy about exploiting his brother's reputation, and she eventually convinces

Melchior that Victor would have found the situation extremely amusing.

Melchior finally succumbs to Marion's point of view. He then asks her to jo in him in Hollywood, but Marion admits that she does not, at the moment, have the finances for travel. Melchior offers to share his salary with her, but Marion expresses the hope that Kurt's business

proposition will provide her with much-needed capital. The doorbell

rings, and Feydak, expecting that the caller is Kurt, prepares to leave.

The v is ito r, however, is Leander Nolan. Feydak whispers to Marion

that Nolan "looks 1ike a commission" for a p o rtra it, and he leaves

Marion alone to conclude the business deal. Nolan behaves as if Marion

should know him, and Marion proceeds to make several unsuccessful

attempts at recognition. She fin a lly discovers that the v is ito r is Leander "Bunny" Nolan, her childhood sweetheart. Nolan's appearance prompts Marion to suggest that he has successfully pursued his plan to become a lawyer. Nolan replies that his legal career has led him to his present position as a prospective candidate for the U. S. Senate from

Tennessee. He reveals that the campaign w ill be financed by his future father-in-law, publisher Orrin Kinnicott. Marion offers to paint

Nolan's p o rtra it in appropriate dress as "a tribune of the people," and

Nolan agrees that a p o rtra it might not "be a bad idea at a l l . " Marion and Nolan then exchange reminiscences of th eir youth. Nolan asks about the "foreigner" who was in Marion's apartment when he arrived. Marion's id e n tific a tio n of Feydak leads Nolan to a discussion of Marion's notor­ iously "racy" career. As Marion defends her choice of a lif e style,

Nolan becomes increasingly irritated by her references to past romances.

Marion detects Nolan's tone of "moral censure," and Nolan finally reveals the reason for his v is it : he wishes to have the "las t word" about

Marion's termination of their adolescent romance. Marion realizes that

Nolan was hurt by her rejection of him. She discloses that her decision to end their relationship had nothing to do with his personality: her

"spiritual and physical wanderlust" was simply incompatible with the l i f e he imagined for them. Marion is amused by Nolan's sense of g u ilt for having been her first lover. She assures him that he needn't bear any responsibility for having "spoiled" her. Nolan eventually relaxes into nostalgia, and Marion realizes that despite Nolan's considerable objection to her "standards," he s till possesses a deep affection for her. Nolan attempts to atone for his puritanical attack on Marion's m orality by asking her to paint his p o rtra it. Marion accepts the commission and she promises to have the p o rtra it ready in time for

Nolan's wedding to Slade Kinnicott. The doorbell rings and Marion

predicts that the c a lle r w ill be "the boy she met on the boat coming to

take her to dinner." Marion's allusion to a shipboard romance prompts

Nolan to revive his criticism of Marion's life style, but Nolan's lecture

is interrupted by the entrance of Richard Kurt. Marion greets Kurt and

she proceeds to pour tea for her guests. Nolan and Kurt clash immedi­ a te ly , and Marion attempts to lighten the atmosphere with repeated offers

of tea and cake. Kurt refuses to discuss his business proposition in

Nolan's presence. Marion asks Nolan to leave, and he obliges. Marion

is intrigued by Kurt's handling of Nolan, but she assures her young

v is ito r that beneath the veneer of pomposity, Nolan is actu ally shy and

insecure. Kurt dismisses Marion's appraisal of Nolan as the predictable

opinion of a typically sentimental female, and he insists that they

proceed with the discussion of his business o ffe r. Marion asserts that

her social tolerance allows her to forgive even Kurt's patronizing

attitude, and she agrees to listen to his proposition. Kurt explains

that in his capacity as the editor of Every Week magazine, he wishes to

commission Marion's autobiography for serial publication. He offers her

two thousand dollars in advance. Marion's in it ia l reaction to Kurt's

proposal is that she is much too young to w rite her memoirs, but Kurt

insists that life "ends" at forty years of age. Marion then warns Kurt

that his image of her as "The Woman of a Hundred A ffa irs " may be false.

Kurt states that he is w illin g to take a chance on the commercial value

of her story. Marion finally considers her present financial situation,

and she consequently accepts Kurt's offer. Kurt leaves, and Marion 140 muses about the content of her autobiography. The doorbell rings, and

Minnie remarks that the c a lle r is probably Marion's "young man"— the boy whom Marion met aboard ship while sailin g back to America. Marion rushes

into her room to change her clothes for dinner, but she tells Minnie that

this date w ill mark the end of her social lif e for some time. When

Minnie asks "Why?", Marion replies that she must devote all of her

leisure time to w ritin g her memoirs. Minnie goes o ff to answer the door

as the curtain fa lls .

Act Two opens three weeks later. Marion is discovered working on

Nolan's p o rtra it while Feydak watches her. Feydak announces that he

must leave for Hollywood on the following day, and Marion agrees to have

dinner with him that evening. They discuss Melchior's brother Victor,

to whom Marion is dedicating her autobiography. Feydak asks Marion

about the insolent Richard Kurt, and Marion tells her friend that under­

neath Kurt's arrogance, she suspects "he's very uncertain." When Feydak

inquires about the progress of Marion's autobiography, Marion replies

that w ritin g her memoirs "is lik e recalling a landscape without color,

a kind of color-blindness of the memory." The doorbell rings, and

Minnie admits "Bunny" Nolan, who has arrived for his scheduled sitting.

Nolan is very agitated about the advance p u b licity for the sale of

Marion's memoirs. Feydak leaves, and Nolan proceeds to question Marion

about her plan to include an account of their relationship in her

reminiscences. Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of the

doorbell, and Minnie announces the a rriv a l of the film s ta r, Warwick

Wilson, with whom she is clearly infatuated. Wilson has read about the

publication o f Marion's memoirs, and he urges her to include th e ir past

affair in her book. He hopes that the publicity will stimulate his career. A fter some lamentation about the "to rtu re" of being a matinee idol, Wilson asks Marion to consider painting his portrait "in the costume of the Dane." Wilson then leaves for a scheduled stop on his personal appearance tour. Nolan c ritic iz e s Marion for having been romantically involved with such a "silly ass" as Wilson. Marion concedes that Wilson "is somewhat on that sid e," but she defends him as "the darling of the w orld." Nolan castigates Marion for her lack of discrimina­ tion in men, and he finally reveals the true source of his hostility, his fear that Marion will expose their past relationship in her auto­ biography. Marion b itte r ly resents Nolan's assumption that her story will be "vulgar and sensational." She accuses him of being "provincial."

Nolan claims that Marion's "revelations" w i11 endanger his relationship with his bride and threaten his p o litic a l future in Tennessee. He adds that the publication w ill also cause embarrassment to his future father-in-law, Orrin Kinnicott. Marion identifies Kinnicott as the man who is picture "in his shorts in Health Magazine" and she doubts that she is capable of causing him any further embarrassment. Marion strokes

Nolan's arm in an attempt to pacify him, but he reacts with a surprising burst of passion. He confesses that he s t i l l loves Marion. When Marion reminds Nolan that he is engaged to be married, Nolan begs her to forget his spontaneous profession of love. He then persists in outlining his objections to the publication of Marion's autobiography. Nolan claims

that Kinnicott has the power to suppress the publication of her memoirs, and Marion is in the midst of responding to Nolan's threats when the doorbell rings. Richard Kurt enters. Marion asks Kurt to entertain

Nolan while she changes clothes for her dinner engagement with Feydak. Nolan questions Kurt about his career. The p o litic ia n mentions that his prospective father-in-law, Orrin Kinnicott, is looking for a "new man in

Washington" to supervise his publications there. Nolan attempts to bribe

Kurt with an offer of the position with Kinnicott. In return, Kurt must promise to cancel the publication of Marion's memoirs. Kurt surmises that Nolan was one of Marion's lovers, and he is "wounded by a sudden and devastating jealousy." Marion returns, and Kurt reveals that Nolan attempted to bribe him. Nolan and Kurt argue b itte r ly while Marion assumes the role of mediator. Nolan fin a lly threatens to use his in flu ­ ence with Kinnicott in having Kurt fired from the s ta ff of Every Week magazine, and he storms out of Marion's apartment. Marion is distressed by Nolan's hostility and she vows to apologize to him by telephone later that evening. Kurt asks Marion how she "could ever have loved a stu ffed - s h irt" like Nolan. Marion defends Nolan by recalling that he was once a "nice, charming, rather reticent young man." She changes the subject by remarking that the experience of w ritin g her memoirs has been thera­ peutic for her—a "kind of spiritual Spring-cleaning." Kurt responds w ith the personal observation that he views the past "as an e v il thing— to be extirpated." When Marion questions Kurt about the reason for his painful vision of the past, Kurt refuses to answer. He claims

that his past "lacks completely what she would c a ll g 1amour." Marion senses that at that moment, Kurt despises her. She confronts him with her in tu itio n . Kurt admits that he hates Marion's a ir of detachment about life. The sound of the telephone interrupts Kurt's analysis of

Marion's faults. Kurt speaks to his supervisor, who has called to

schedule an appointment to discuss the advisability of publishing Marion's autobiography. Kurt hangs up the receiver, and he informs

Marion that Kinnicott has apparently begun to exercise his power. Marion

is amazed that her "poor little story" has caused so much unhappiness, and she suggests that as far as the story is concerned, the best course of action would be to "call it a day." Kurt replies: "If you let me down now, I ' l l hate you." Marion demands to know more about Kurt's personality and background before she agrees to support him. Kurt then

reluctantly confesses that he is incapable of sharing Marion's social

tolerance because he s t i l l bears the scars from witnessing his father's murder at a labor demonstration. Marion expresses deep compassion. She

suddenly understands the motivation for Kurt's hostility. She embraces

Kurt, and "his defenses vanish suddenly. He sinks to his knees beside

her, his arms around her," as the curtain falls.

The f i r s t scene in Act Three takes place two weeks la te r. Minnie

is discovered answering a telephone call from Richard Kurt, who has

phoned to inquire about Marion's plans for dinner. Minnie leaves the

phone to answer the door, and she returns with Nolan and his future father-

in-law, Or r in Kinnicott. Minnie assures them that Marion is expected to

return home soon. She then remembers Kurt's telephone c a ll, but when

she picks up the receiver, she discovers that Kurt has hung up. Kinni­

cott criticizes Marion's apparently casual attitude toward their

appointment. He accuses her of being a "fly -b y -n ig h t character," but

Nolan defends her. Kinnicott is suspicious of Nolan's support of Marion,

and he asks his future son-in-law whether he is certain that he no

longer loves Marion. Nolan advises the domineering publisher to avoid

jumping to conclusions based on his respect for Marion's character. Kinnicott and Nolan then discuss th e ir plan to suppress the publication of Marion's autobiography. Nolan believes that the best course of action is to have Richard Kurt fired, but Kinnicott insists that suppres­ sion of the publication is not enough. Marion's manuscript must be destroyed to prevent Kurt from blackmailing them. Nolan claims that

Kinnicott's suspicions are unfounded, and Kinnicott again questions

Nolan's motivation for defending Marion and her friend. The doorbell rings, and Minnie admits Nolan's fiancee, Slade Kinnicott. Slade has arrived uninvited "to have a heart-to-heart talk" with her "fiance's old girl." Nolan begs Slade to leave before Marion returns. Slade refuses to go. She speculates about the kind of woman who could have success­ fu lly seduced Nolan. Nolan claims that i f she believes him to be so

"unapproachable," it might be better for them to break off their engage­ ment. Kinnicott sympathizes with Nolan, and Slade assures her father:

"Don't worry Dad. I'll get him back." The doorbell rings and Richard

Kurt enters "in a white heat of anger." He confronts Nolan and Kinnicott with the news that his employer has ju s t issued him an ultimatum. He must decide between publishing Marion's story or giving up his job. Kurt

correctly surmises that Kinnicott is responsible for his employer's

action, and he co rd ially invites both Nolan and Kinnicott "to go to

Hell." Slade asks if someone can introduce her to "this interesting

young man." Kurt is temporarily disarmed by the fact that he unwittingly

created a scene in the presence of a lady. Kinnicott threatens to sue

Kurt for libel if he proceeds with his plan to publish Marion's book.

Marion finally arrives. Kurt attempts to involve her immediately in

his argument with K innicott, but Marion suggests that they discuss the 1^5 matter quietly over cocktails. Minnie interrupts Marion with the news that a telegram was delivered for her, but Marion is far too interested

in her guests to read the wire from Hollywood. Marion effects an instant

rapport with Slade, and the two women exchange pleasantries while Nolan,

Kurt, and Kinnicott become increasingly exasperated by their small talk.

Kinnicott suggests that he and Marion discuss the matter of the book p riv a te ly . Marion sends Nolan into her bedroom, and she advises Kurt to escort Slade on a short walk around the block. While they are alone,

Marion attempts to dissuade Kinnicott from discouraging the publication of her memoirs by exercising her considerable feminine charm. She feigns

interest in Kinnicott's obsession with physical health. She assures him

that his image of her as a "loose character" is mistaken and claims "I'm just a smal1-town girl from Tennessee." Marion's campaign is successful.

Kinnicott suggests that they "make a friendly adjustment" about "this

little matter of the story" during a private dinner in his apartment on

the following evening. Marion accepts Kinnicott's invitation and the

publisher leaves the room to retrieve Nolan. Marion p rivately rejoices

over her conquest of Kinnicott. Slade and Kurt return, and Marion

discloses the fact that Kinnicott invited her to dine with him. Kurt is

irritated by Marion's acceptance of Kinnicott's invitation, but Slade

revels in Marion's success. She remarks about her father: "I thought

he'd date you up— could te ll by the way he eyed you." Kurt crosses

away from Slade and Marion, allowing the two women to engage in a private

conversation. Slade asks Marion i f she s t i l l loves Nolan. Marion

replies that she is in love with Kurt. Slade notes that she suspects

that Nolan s till loves her, but before Marion can respond, Kinnicott returns with Nolan. Kinnicott bids farewell to Marion, and he marshals

Slade and Nolan out of Marion's apartment. Marion then encourages Kurt to share in her triumph over K innicott, but Kurt is jealous and angry about Marion's gracious treatment of Nolan and Kinnicott. Marion reminds

Kurt that it is not in her nature to be vindictive. Kurt bluntly replies

"That's the trouble with you— you expect to go through lif e as i f it were a b eau tifu lly l i t drawing-room with modulated voices making polite chatter. Life isn't a drawing-roomJ" Marion quietly retorts: "I have— once or twice--suspected i t . " Marion then states that the benefits accrued from the sale of her autobiography have not been worth the unhappiness that it has caused. She repeats her e a r lie r b e lie f in the a d v is a b ility of abandoning the project. Kurt is furious, and he rushes out of the apartment. Marion runs a fte r him, but he is gone before she can reach him. She walks back into the room, and she notices the tele­ gram that Minnie mentioned e a r lie r . She opens the wire and discovers

that Melchior Feydack has arranged for her to paint the portraits of the current Academy Award winners. Marion smiles, and she puts the telegram down and picks up her manuscript. After she fingers a few pages of the draft of her autobiography, she summons Minnie and orders her to build a fire in the Franklin stove. The curtain falls. The action of the

second scene in Act Three takes place the following morning. Minnie is

discovered serving tea to Marion. The doorbell rings, and Minnie admits

Leander Nolan. Nolan announces that he has broken with Kinnicott and

Slade. He adds that he no longer cares about being included in Marion's

memoirs. Marion replies that he needn't be concerned about her book.

She informs him that she has burned the manuscript. Nolan eventually works up the courage to profess his love for Marion, and he asks her to marry him. Marion is touched by Nolan's proposal, but she replies: " I f

I married you it would be for the wrong reasons." She then confesses that she loves Kurt. Nolan is shocked by Marion's disclosure, and he asks her if she intends to marry Kurt. Marion answers "No." Nolan attempts to recover from Marion's rejection of him. As he prepares to leave, Richard Kurt enters. Marion bids farewell to Nolan, and she advises him to renew his relationship with Slade. She also asks Nolan to inform Kinnicott that she will be unable to keep their dinner date.

Nolan leaves. Kurt embraces Marion and he begs her forgiveness. He promises that they w ill go away together as soon as she has finished w ritin g her memoirs. Marion then gently informs Kurt that she has done

"the inevitable thing." She discloses that she burned the manuscript of her book. Marion mentions that Feydak has arranged a commission for some portraits in Hollywood, and she tells Kurt that she plans to leave immediately for California. She hopes that with the disagreeable matter of her autobiography behind them, they can remain friends. Marion invites Kurt to accompany her to Hollywood. Kurt demands to know why

Marion burned her book, and Marion promises, " I ' l l te ll you— one day."

Kurt is angered by Marion's decision to move to Hollywood. He asserts that joining her there would be tantamount to. capitulating to her despicable attitude of social tolerance. He claims that his principles will not allow him to accept her invitation. Marion and Kurt realize that th eir a ffa ir is over. Marion kisses Kurt, and Kurt leaves the apartment. Marion is le f t alone for a moment. She then summons Minnie, and she orders her to s ta rt packing their bags for the tr ip to Hollywood. m

Minnie inquires: "Shall you want the grey or the brown for the train

tomorrow?" Marion "does not answer," and the curtain f a l l s . 9°

When Behrman finished the f i r s t d ra ft of Biography in June, 1932,

he expressed his satisfactio n with the q u ality of the completed script

in a note to himself: "You re a lly should change very l i t t l e in copying

the first d raft.B eh rm an initially decided against submitting a

typescript of Biography to the Theatre Guild. He had discussed the play with the producer Guthrie McClintic, and McClintic was accordingly given

the f ir s t option to produce Biography . ^

There are a number of possible reasons for Behrman's in it ia l rejec­

tion of the Theatre Guild. His most recent a f f ilia t io n with the Guild

on Meteor in 1929 had been decidedly unsuccessful. The Guild's adminis­

tra tiv e records indicate other probable causes for Behrman's defection

to McClintic. The season 1930-1931 had been especially disastrous for

the Theatre Guild. The year's losses to ta lle d over $180,000 and

internal squabbles threatened the s ta b ility of the organization's process

of production by c o m m i t t e e . L a t e in March, 1931, Lawrence Langner

scheduled an emergency meeting of the Guild's Board of Managers. Langner

later recalled that at that meeting he "behaved very badly, attacking

everyone for the state of affairs with equal violence."^ The Guild's

•^Biography Manuscript #1, 8 April 1932 - 9 June 1932.

91 BIO Notes, June 1932, p. 41.

92 Be hrman, People In A D iary, p. 193.

^Lawrence Langner, The Magic Curtain (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1951), PP. 247-249-

9^|b id ., p. 249- \ks records indicate that Langner singled out Behrman's previous d irecto r,

P hilip Moeller, for p articu lar censure:

Langner charged that Moeller had no interest in developing the talents of new actors but could only use actors of proven talents, such as Lunt and Fontanne, to advantage. . . . Langner also mentioned M oeller's patronizing attitu d e toward American authors, such as S. N. Behrman, P hilip Barry, and Maxwell Anderson, and his attempts to 're w rite ' their scripts, which had infuriated t h e m . 95

In a closed meeting on April 12, 1931, the Board of Managers adopted new guidelines for the administration of future productions. Among the new regulations was the stipulation that "a production committee of two members of the Board would be selected for each play by a m ajority vote of the en tire membefshi p."96 The Guild's previous policy entitied all six members of the Board to participate in the production process. The new resolution effectively decreased the number of individual "producers" that exercised artistic control over each production.

The Guild's new guidelines proved to be especially significant for

Behrman, because the dramatist's negotiations with Guthrie McClintic disintegrated during the summer of 1932. McClintic wanted to produce

Biography only if he could convince Laurette Taylor to play the role of

Marion Froude. In his memoirs, Behrman recalled that he "had an unhappy correspondence with Miss Taylor about it; things swerved the way they

irra tio n a lly do in the theatre and in li f e , to o ."97 |n the case

95ftoy S. Waldau, Vintage Years of the Theatre Guild: 1928-1939 (Cleveland, Ohio: Case Western Reserve Press, 1972), pp. 110-111.

9 6 |b id ., p. 118.

97sehrman, People In A Diary, p. 193. 150 of Biography, "things swerved" in the direction of the Theatre

Guild:

The Guild acted with far greater haste between the buying and production of Biography than it had with its last S. N. Behrman s c rip t, Meteor, which had been two years getting before the public. On October 21, 1932, the decision to purchase Biography was made, and the s iftin g of leading ladies took place during the same Board meeting. Star quality actresses such as Laurette Taylor and Jane Cowl were considered, but the Board of Managers' f ir s t choice was Ina C laire, i f she could be signed.°°

Behrman and Harold Freedman worked with the Theatre Guild to convince Ina

C laire to play in Biography. Behrman recorded his role in the struggle to contract Miss Claire for his play in a chapter that he devoted to the actress in his memoirs:

Ina was in Philadelphia trying out a European play for the Theatre Guild. Terry He 1 burn called and asked me to come to see Ina in this play which, she said, had almost gotten over. She felt that if I were to do a rewrite on it the play might work. I went. I would go anywhere to see Ina in a play. . . . I knew in my bones that the play I had seen in Philadelphia was a dead duck, but I was glad to have seen it. Ina's timing and diction were miraculous. I wanted more than ever to have her do Biography. 1 knew that she had read it--H arold Freedman had given it to her—and that she was tepid about it. . . . I told Terry and Langner that I must have her. But she was reluctant; in fact she asked the Guild i f she might try out another play which she fancied. . . . I then heard a story, told me by one ot Ina's offstage friends, which quickened my heart. I have never asked Ina whether it was true or not and I cannot vouch for it. According to the story, Ina told how she had outwitted the Theatre Guild, "They gave me a lousy play of Behrman's," she said, "sure that I would reject it . But I was hard up and needed the money. If I'd rejected it, i t would have broken my contract. So I fooled them— I accepted it.'" . . . Ina appeared in Biography for two seasons. . . . Some people think of Ina as a brittle actress. The truth is that in addition to

9®Waldau, p. I*t8. 151

being a superb comedienne, she had great warmth with profound emotional control. Somerset Maugham said of Biography that it was a tragic play. It was Ina's performance that made it so.99

Ina Claire did not appear in Behrman's original version of Biography.

The Guild's Board of Managers elected P hilip Moeller and Lee Simonson

to the production committee for Biography, and on October 23, 1932,

Behrman met with Moeller to discuss script r e v i s i o n s . ^0 |t js apparent

from the notes for Biography that Moeller was Behrman's chief collabor­

ator on the second and final draft of the play. Moeller's assistance was later demonstrated by his demand for a share in the film rights

for Biography. ^

The only significant change in characterization that Behrman

effected in the revision of the f i r s t d ra ft involved rewriting a ll of

the dialogue for Marion Froude's maid, Minnie. In the first draft

Minnie was B ritish . Behrman's meeting with Moeller in October, 1932,

yielded the following note: "Minnie's nationality—Vicki's maid? . . .

^Behrman, People In A D iary, pp. 193; 197*

^O^Waldau indicates that Simonson contributed to the rewriting sessions for Biography (p. 1^9), but no sp ecific references to Simonson appear in Behrman's notes for the play.

^ T h e Guild's records for A p ril, 1933, indicate that a dispute arose with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, which was to pay $30,000 for Biography's film rights. MGM refused to honor its contract unless permitted to film the play without payment to e ith e r Moeller, the d irecto r, or the scenic designer. Moeller especially thought he was being undercut because of his extensive contributions during the rewriting process. The Board fin a lly supported Moeller's request for compensation, although they pointed out that the changes and additions that were made in the scrip t actually belonged to the author. Moeller was appeased by the Guild's o ffe r of $1,000 for his interest in the play. Waldau, p. 1^9* 152 dialogue in German (Ann F lexn er).B eh rm an 's reference to Ann

Flexner was an allusion to the wife of his close friend, the scientist

Abraham Flexner. Mrs. Flexner was apparently Behrman's consultant on

German dialogue. Minnie's characterization was consequently changed to include the detail that Marion hired her at the time when she was Victor

Feydak's mistress. The revision allowed Behrman to add a sense of fam iliarity to the relationship between Minnie and Melchior Feydak.

Behrman also gave Marion the a b ilit y to speak German, which he used for

comic effect in her farewell to Orrin Kinnicott in Act Three:

KINNICOTT: Auf wiedersehen. MARION: Auf wiedersehen. Ich kann es kaum erwarten.' KINNICOTT: (Pretending to understand) Yes, oh, yes, yes, of course.'1^3

Moeller's preliminary notes on the characterizations of Nolan and

Kinnicott prompted Behrman to develop the plot references to Leander

Nolan's p o litic a l campaign. Moeller observed:

Kinnicott's excitement about Nolan's past leads to the most major of all criticisms, and that is, the develop­ ment and point of view which makes his e a r lie r re la tio n ­ ship with Marion so fatal to his candidacy.

Behrman subsequently wrote five additional speeches for Nolan in the

second and third acts that alluded to the probable effect of the

revelations in Marion's autobiography on his constituency in Tennessee.

JO^BIO Notes, "Production Notes," 23 October 1932, pp. 1-2.

lO^Behrman, Biography, act 3, p. 215*

^ ^ B10 Notes, "Moeller Notes," October 132, p. 2.

105Be hrman, Biography, act 2; pp. 127, 128, 1^5: act 3; pp. 172, 175- 153

Moeller suggested two revisions in Act One that Behrman eventually incorporated into the final version of Biography. His first request was for a laugh line to assist Marion's transition to her sincere appraisal of her past relationship with Nolan from Nolan's angry demand to have

"the last word" on the subject of their romance.Behrman accordingly produced the following section of dialogue:

NOLAN: (F ie rc e ly .) I wanted to see you, to stand before you, to tell myself—"Here she is and--and what of i t.".' MARION: W ell, can you? NOLAN: Yes.' Yes .1 MARION: Good for you, Bunny. I know just how you feel — like having a tooth out, isn't it. (Sincerely.) In justice to myself, I must tell you this--that the reason I walked out on you in the summary way I did . . . was that I felt a disparity in our characters not conducive to matrimonial contentment. You see how right I was. . . . ^ 7

Moeller was also dissatisfied with the final scene of the first act.

In the original version, Kurt left Marion after her acceptance of his business proposition, and Marion proceeded to prepare for her dinner date with the young man whom she had met aboard ship. Moeller proposed an alternate ending:

Possibility of a new scene at end suggesting the reality of the book she is w riting as against . . . the present re a lity of the new p o s s ib ility with the boy from the boat. Possib'’ "' r conscious reference to her dawn- ing interest

^O^BIO Notes, "Rehearsal Notes," October 1932.

1Q7Beh rman, Biography, act I, p. 53-

^^BIO Notes, "Moeller Notes," October 1932, p. 1. ^5h

Behrman followed Moeller's advice to the letter in his revision of the closing scene in Act One. After Kurt finally convinces Marion to accept the commission for her autobiography, the scene concludes:

MARION: . . . Come in tomorrow afternoon for a co cktail. KURT: Whose memoirs are these going to be, yours or m i ne ? MARION: Well, you're an e d ito r, a re n 't you? Come in and ed i t. KURT: All right, I'll come. But if you aren't here I ' l l go away. I won't w ait a minute. (He goes out quickly.) MARION: (She speaks to h e rs e lf.) What an extraordinary young man.' (In a moment Kurt comes back in .) Oh, hello.' KURT: (Embarrassed.) I forgot my hat.' MARION: There i t is.' Right next to mine. KURT: Oh, yes. Thanks. . . . W ell, so long.' MARION: So long. (Kurt leaves again. . . . She picks up a pencil and pad and s its . . . . She repeats the f ir s t words of the f i r s t chapter aloud to herself as she writes them down.) I am born . . . (M i nnie enters.) I am born . . . I am born— I meet Richard Kurt—Well, Minnie, here's the outline— I am born . . . I meet Richard Kurt—now all I have to do is to fill in. . . . MINNIE: Was, Marion? MARION: Fix something lig h t, w ill you, Minnie . . . I'm not going out. MINNIE: Aber der Junge kommt.' . . . Der Junge dem sie. . . . MARION: Oh, yes.' The Junge I met on the boat. You'll have to send him away. I can't go out tonight. From now on Minnie, no more frivolous engagements.' MINNIE: Sie bleiben ganzen abend zu Hause.' MARION: Yes Minnie. I'm spending the evening alone with my 1ife . . . get a good, straight, clear-eyed look at it . . . . I am born. . . . (Slowly the curtain falls.)

M oeller's notes for the second act of Biography consisted of suggestions that involved structural changes and additional dialogue.

109Be hrman, Biography, act 1, pp. 88-92 passim. 155

The style of his note on Behrman's characterization of the actor,

Warwick WiIson, demonstrated probable cause for Langner's subjective assessment of M oeller's a ttitu d e toward playwrights as "patronizing:"

This note w ill k i l l Mr. Behrman--that the movie actor be developed as an amusing pest throughout the entire play. Otherwise the part w ill be played by Mr. Behrman to prove its unimportance.

Behrman accommodated Moeller by transposing the order of the scenes a t the beginning of Act Two. In the original draft, Feydak and Marion are discovered in a nostalgic scene together. Nolan arrives in a state of panic over the advance p u b lic ity for Marion's book. Feydak's e x it overlaps with Wilson's entrance, and Wilson remains for a short scene with Nolan and Marion. In the rewrite, Behrman created additional comic dialogue for Wilson, and he juxtaposed the order of the action, placing Wilson's entrance earlier in the act to coincide with the end of Marion's in it ia l scene with Feydak. The restructuring of the action allowed Behrman to compose additional dialogue between Feydak and Wilson regarding the atmosphere for "creation" in Hollywood. Nolan then enters, and Feydak and Wilson exit together, leaving Marion and Nolan alone for th e ir confrontation over the projected publication of her memoirs. ^

Moeller's remaining suggestions for Act Two were requests for additional dialogue. He believed that Marion's argument in favor of the publication of her memoirs was too weak in comparison to the strength of

Nolan's objections, and he offered the following remedy:

^ °B10 Notes, "Moeller Notes," October 1932, p. 2.

^Behrman, Biography, act 2 , pp. 104-119. 156

Suggest the question of the motivation of her deciding to go on with the biography because of Nolan's assump­ tion of the right to boss her.^^

Behrman subsequently wrote the following dialogue that was inserted as an e x it speech for Marion in the second act:

MARION: I must admit, Bunny, that you provoke in me a ll my malicious impulses. You come here suddenly and you convey to me what I've missed in not marrying you. (The doorbell rings. Minnie crosses to answer it during Marion's speech.) You dangle before me the inventory of your felicities—a career, a fortune, a fabulous bride— and then, because I get a chance to chronicle my own adventures— you object— you tell me I mustn't.' I have a nice nature, Bunny, or I should be angry— I should be indignant. (Kurt enters.) NOLAN: Now, Marion, i've warned you. . . . You'll regret this. MARION: Hello, Dickie, do talk to Bunny for a minute, w ill you? I'v e s imply got to change.^ ^

Moeller also proposed that Behrman rewrite Marion's later speech to

Kurt concerning his negative opinion of human nature:

Marion's speech beginning "that's interesting research"— should be more in the profound manner of the rest of the play and not qu i te i n^he pseudo-eloquence or— let us say— Phi 1i p Moeller.

The speech that Moeller referred to from the original d ra ft was Marion's

reaction to Kurt's revelation of his secret ambition: "I want to laugh

the powers that be out of existence in a great winnowing gale of laugh­

te r ." Marion responded: "That's an interesting research. Of course

I 0 Notes, "Moeller Notes," October 1932, p. 1.

^Behrman, Biography, act 2, p. 13*1.

10 Notes, "Moeller Notes," October 1932, p. 2. 157

it strikes me it's vitiated by one thing--you have a preconceived idea of what you will find." The dialogue then jumped to a series of ques­ tions posed by Marion concerning Kurt's age, social life, and family background. Behrman rewrote the dialogue according to Moeller's

prescription, inserting a short section that conveyed Marion's benevolent view of the world:

MARION: That's an interesting research. Of course it strikes me that it's vitiated by one thing— you have a preconceived idea of what you w ill find. In a research biased like that from the start you are apt to overlook much that is noble and generous and gentle. KURT: Have you found generosity and gentleness and nobi1i ty? MARION: A good deal— yes. KURT: Well, I haven't! MARION: I'm sorry for you. KURT: You needn't be. Reserve your pity for weak­ lings. I don't need it..' MARION: Are you so strong? (A pause. Kurt doesn't answer.)

Behrman's final revision in Act Two consisted of the addition of a

single curtain line to the act. The first draft of the act ended with

Kurt's profession of love and Marion's response, which was w ritte n to

be delivered while she was stroking his hair, "Dickie—Dickie—

Dickie. . . ." Behrman composed a new curtain line for Marion: "Why

116 have you been afraid to love me?" 10

M oeller's notes on the third act of Bioqraphy resulted in Behrman's

decision to delete the curtain drop that was originally intended to

indicate a time lapse between Marion's destruction of her manuscript

^5Behrman> Biography, act 2, pp. 160-61.

^^Behrman, Biography, act 2 , p. 16^f. and the following day's action consisting of Nolan's proposal, Kurt's

return, and Marion's departure for Hollywood. Moeller's reaction to

the stage direction that described Marion's decision to burn her draft

of the autobiography read:

Here in my opinion Mr. Behrman has w ritte n a charming stage direction and has not written a charming scene about "the uncrossable destiny (?)" of human beings.'1'

The time lapse between Kurt's b itte r argument with Marion and his

subsequent v is it to beg her forgiveness created some confusion in

Moeller's mind about the specific motivation for Kurt's return: "Kurt's

lift speech—"Please forgive me."— I reiterate. Forgive me for what."

Behrman's solution to Moeller's objections was a revision that made

the action continuous from Marion's destruction of her manuscript to

Nolan's subsequent entrance. The deletion of the curtain drop necessi­

tated some technical revisions in the action. Behrman prepared for

Nolan's immediate return to Marion's apartment by inserting some dialogue

in which Nolan n o tifies Marion that he w ill be back as soon as he can

leave Kinnicott and Slade. A more significant revision involved

Behrman's modification of Marion's motivation for destroying her manu­

s c rip t. In the original d ra ft, Marion weighed the prospect of the

commission in Hollywood against the re a lity of her work on her memoirs.

She decided to destroy the book and accept Feydak's offer. In the final

version of the play, however, Marion's decision to destroy the auto­

biography is unrelated to the news in Feydak's telegram. Behrman

^ 1 0 Notes, "Moeller Notes," October 1932, p. 3* 159 moved Marion's reading of the wire to the closing scene of the play.

Her new motivation is consequently not pragmatic, but emotional. She burns the manuscript immediately after her quarrel with Kurt. The revised action lends greater weight to Marion's earlier references to the essential incompatibility that eventually dooms her relationship with Kurt.

Behrman's change in the structure and motivation of the scene that depicted Marion's destruction of her manuscript was also allied with

Moeller's criticism of the final scene between Kurt and Marion:

It seems to be that Kurt's refusing to go with the woman he madly loved because she wants to go to Hollywood— doesn' t wash.^ ^

Behrman consequently revised the entire final scene between the lovers.

In the rewrite, Marion does not mention the p o s s ib ility of continuing her relationship with Kurt. Her destruction of the manuscript functions as her recognition of the end of their affair. The closing section of the fin a l scene between Kurt and Marion demonstrates the essential quality of Behrman's modified conclusion:

MARION: I'm terribly sorry--but I couldn't possibly have published that book. KURT: I see now why everything is this way. . . . MARION: I couldn't. . . .' KURT: Why the injustice and the cruelty go on—year after year—century after century—without change— because— as they grow older— people become — to le ra n t .1 Things amuse them. I hate you and I hate your tolerance. I always did. MARION: I know you do. You hate my essential q u a lity — the thing that is me. That's what I was thinking ju s t now and that's what makes me sad.

H 9 biq Notes, "Moeller Notes," October 1932, p. 3- 160

KURT: Nothing to be said, is there? Good-bye. MARION: All right.' (Kurt starts to go. She calls a fte r him, p i t i f u l l y . ) Won't you kiss me good-bye? KURT: A ll rig h t. (Marion goes up a fte r him. They kiss each other passionately.) MARION: (Whispering to him.) I would try to change you. I know I would. And if I changed you I should destroy what makes me love you. Good-bye, my dearest. Go—quickly. (Kurt goes.) Dickie. . . .' (Marion is le f t alone.)

A fter Kurt leaves, Marion reads the telegram from Feydak and she becomes

"h y s te ric a lly grateful for the mercy of having something to do at once, of being busy, of not having time to th in k ."121 curtain of Behrman's original draft fell on a picture of Marion's dejected resignation to the end of her a f f a ir with Kurt. It communicated the sense that

Marion's s p ir it was broken. In the fin al version, however, Behrman depicted Marion's animated reversion to her previously-mentioned

"spiritual and physical wanderlust:"

MARION: Something always turns up for me! Pack everything Minnie. I. want to get out right away. MINNIE: Don't you t i n k you better v a it t i l l tomorrow? MARION: No, Minnie. Once the temptation to a journey comes into my head I can't bear it till I'm on my way! This time, Minnie, w e 'll have a real tr ip . From Hollywood w e 'll go to Honolulu and from Honolulu to China. How would you like that Mi nnie? MINNIE: Fine, Marion! Dot crazy Kurt he goes v it us? MARION: No, Minnie--no one—we travel alone! (QUICK CURTAIN)

Supporting Miss C laire as Marion Froude in Biography were Earle

Larimore as Richard Kurt, Arnold K o r ff as Melchior Feydak, Jay Fassett

^^Behrman, Biography, act 3, pp* 237-239*

^ I b i d . , act 3* P* 240.

122|bid., act 3, PP* 2k0-2k\. 161

as Leander Nolan, Alexander Clark as Warwick Wilson, Charles Richman as

Orrin Kinnicott, Mary Arbenz as Slade Kinnicott, and Helen Salinger as

Minnie. During the rehearsals of the play, the Guild's Board found

Earle Larimore to be "considerably under the mark"^^ in his performance

of the role of Richard Kurt. Ina Claire was more vivid in her assess­

ment of Larimore's performance. She complained to Lawrence Langner:

"How can I play the scenes with that man snorting a t me 1ike a prop

stal 1 ion.1"^ ^ The apprehension of Miss Claire and the Theatre Guild was v itia te d by the rave reviews that followed the premiere of Biography

at the Nixon Theatre in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on December 5, 1932.

Biography opened to similarly favorable criticism in New York on

December 12, 1932.

In his early notes for the characterization of Marion Froude,

Behrman reflected on his heroine's attitu d e toward her success as a

p o rtra it-p a in te r. He wanted to include the element of her desire to

"do the right thing by her sitters."^^ In a sense, Behrman and his

protagonist shared a sim ilar fate. His " s itte rs " were Margot Asquith,

Elizabeth Bibesco, Grace Moore, Neysa McMein, Enid Bagnold, Oskar Straus,

Richard F a ll, John Reed, George Bernard Shaw, Charles Schwab, W illiam

Randolph Hearst, Bernarr McFadden, and John G ilb e rt. The overwhelming

success of Biography indicates that Behrman did "the right thing" by

his sitters. He used the rudimentary sketches of their lives as the

^^Waldau, p. 148.

124 Langner, Magic C urtain, p. 255*

^^BIO Notes, March 1932, p. 5. material for a dramatic collage against the background of Bergsonian

"time" and transformed the inspirational idea of "the impossibility of writing a biography"^^ into the very real possibility of writing his

B iography. CHAPTER V

RAIN FROM HEAVEN

This is the play that w ill ju s tify your existence--what happens to tolerance in a depression. Behrman, Rain From Heaven Notes, p. 23-

Behrman was inspired by the work of George Bernard Shaw to create his fourth play for the Theatre Guild, Rain From Heaven. The Guild in itia te d th eir a f f i 1itio n with Bernard Shaw in 1920 with th eir produc­ tion of the world premiere of Heartbreak House. Shaw's post-war depiction of "a cultured, leisured Europe before the war11' was the lite ra ry model for Behrman's complementary study of a cultured, leisured

England before the advent of the second World War. Behrman termed Rain

From Heaven his "current Heartbreak House.

On January 1, 193*f, Behrman recorded some preliminary sketches of possible characterizations for a new play that he tentatively entitled

The Last Jew. Behrman initially intended to shape the material into "a comic treatment of Anti-Semitism."^ He based his contemporary "Shylock"

^George Bernard Shaw, Preface to Heartbreak House (Baltimore, Maryland: Penguin Books, 196*0, p. 7* o Rain From Heaven Notes, 16 January 193^, S. N. Behrman Papers, Wisconsin State H istorical Society, Madison, Wisconsin, p. 22. (Here­ after cited as RFH Notes.)

^ Ib id ., 1 January 193^, p* 1*

163 I6*f on Alfred Kerr, a German refugee, who had been B erlin's leading drama critic before the Nazis' persecution of the Jews drove him into exile in

1933-^ In an a r tic le that was printed in the New York Times in 193^,

Behrman recalled his lite ra ry source for the character that eventually became "Hugo Wi liens" in Rain From Heaven:

On August 27, 1933, there appeared in these columns an a r tic le called "The Sentimental Journey of an Exile" by Alfred Kerr. An ed ito rial note preceding the a rtic le informed the reader that Mr. Kerr had been for many years the dramatic c r it ic of the Berliner Tageblatt and that he was "one of the many Jews who are no longer free to practice their profession in Germany." The a r tic le , w ritten with a lightness of touch and an extraordinary urbanity certainly non-Teutonic, told of the author's wanderings from Berlin to Prague to Vienna and Zurich and from Zurich to Paris. . . . When I read this a r tic le I hadn't the fain test idea that I was to put its author into a play. . . . I read the essay, f e lt the ingrat­ iation of its charm, and, then forgot a ll about it , having never u n til that moment heard of the author at a l l . Some months a fte r th is, during the Winter, I went to call on Dr. Rudolph Kommer, the sage of Czernowitz, and was pottering shamelessly about among his books and magazines . . . when I came upon a German magazine published in Amsterdam which displayed on its front cover the names of Klaus Mann and Thcmas Mann and Alfred Kerr and Aldous Huxley. . . . I asked Dr. Kommer about this magazine and he told me that i t had been sponsored by a group of German lite ra ry e xiles, voluntary and involuntary, with the collaboration of foreign w riters like Huxley and Wells. Dr. Kommer mentioned Alfred Kerr, and I remembered the amiable flaneur of Prague and Vienna. I had, a fte r a l l , not forgotten him. . . . It appeared that Alfred Kerr was not merely an unrealizable and remote dramatic critic traveling on pleasant trains to escape an unrealizable ukase; it appeared that he was a quite real person, whom Kommer knew quite well, that he was in addition quite the most distinguished dramatic critic in Germany, that people sat up nights to read his notices, that you might get a very good press from everybody and be profoundly unhappy if Mr. Kerr did not lik e you. This was

^New York Times, 26 August 1933, p- 1; 27 August 1933, sec. 9, p. 1. 165

close to home. In Dr. Komer's study on Seventy-ninth Street, Alfred Kerr gained in nearness and in te n s ity .5

Behrman adopted the lig h t tone of Kerr's essay in his in it ia l consideration of the refugee as a possible protagonist for The Last Jew.

He directed himself to "make it a high comedy of love between people £ with nazidom for the background . " 0 The major characters in The Last Jew comprised a romantic triangle that included the Alfred Kerr counterpart, a B ritish noblewoman and her paramour, "the finest flower of English manhood, who is put against this despised and wandering r e f u g e e . In his notes for the Englishwoman, Behrman indicated the character's possible resemblance to his most recent dramatic heroine, "Marion Froude" in

Biography. He surmised: "Suppose she is like Marion—another Marion— o an English Marion—why not?— this is the true sequel to Biography.

Behrman's concentration on developing a comic approach to a n ti-

Semitism led him to a b rie f consideration of Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice as a lite r a r y model. He characterized his projected heroine as "a modern Portia."^ The action of the play would include "Portia's" defense of her attraction to the refugee against the objections of her anti-S em itic paramour, whose "Nazidom" would be depicted as "simple sex

•’ibid.., 30 December 193^, sec. 9, p- 3-

^RFH Notes, 3 January 193^, p. 9*

7 |b id ., 3 January 193^, p. 7-

8 1bid ., 21 January 193^, p. 28.

9 1 bid., 15 A p ri1 193^, p. 9 8 . 166 je a lo u s y ." ^ Behrman concluded, however, that the character relationships in The Last Jew should not be transferred intact from the action of The

Merchant of Venice. In Shakespeare's play, Portia pleads for mercy from the Jew. In The Last Jew, Alfred Kerr as Shylock would plead for mercy from the Gentiles. Behrman noted:

It might be Shylock antidote — reverse Portia-role--it is the others who demand the pound of flesh. . . . Ina is the romantic one about it, and he disabuses her--that direction 1 1 is the Quality of Mercy d ire c tio n . 11

Behrman's allusion to "the q u ality of mercy" was a reference to Portia's courtroom speech in Shakespeare's play:

The quality of mercy is not strained, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed— It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes. 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest, it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown. His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth s it the dread and fear of kings. But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show lik e s t God's When mercy seasons ju s tic e . Therefore Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of ju s tic e , none of us Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy, And that same prayer doth teach us a ll to render The deeds of mercy.

Behrman's scrutiny of Portia's monologue yielded a new t i t l e for The

Last Jew: Rain From Heaven.^

1^1 b id ., 3 January 1934, p. 7*

'M b id ., 2 January 1934, p. 2. Behrman's reference to Portia as "Ina" reflects his identification of the heroine with the actress Ina C1 a i re .

l^The Merchant of Venice 4. 1. 184-202.

13rFH Notes, 1 January 1934, p. 1. 167

Behrman's notes indicate that by January 7, 1934, he was progress­ ing steadily in the direction of w ritin g Rain From Heaven as a modern adaptation of The Merchant of Venice. On January 10, however, his inspiration from Shakespeare's play ceased to provide him with the impetus for the further development of his s c rip t. He noted the prob­ able cause of his stagnation: "I've certainly got the vein and the characters and the comedy and the timely subject— now a ll I need is the crux— the crux— like the book in Biography." ^ Recalling his technique for Biography, Behrman attributed his difficulty to the lack of a unified action that would suggest a m ilieu and scenario for Rain From Heaven.

On January 17, 1934, he paused again to re fle c t on the cause of the week-long hiatus in his work:

The point is--and here is my difficulty— I don't want to w rite a play about Anti-Semitism— I want to generalize it--to le ra n c e — tolerance— and the core in people that makes them hate. ^ 5

Later in his notes for the same day, Behrman fin a lly discovered his c atalyst. He reviewed the previous day's notes wherein he had specu­

lated: "Maybe you can make it not a tight plot, but w rite i t as a kind of current Heartbreak House. B e h r m a n ' s thoughts on Bernard Shaw's play sparked an idea for the setting and structure of Rain From Heaven.

He advised himself to "write it like Heartbreak H o u se,an d he

^ I b i d . , 10 January 1934, p. 17-

^ I bi d. , p. 22.

^ I b i d . , 16 January 1934, p. 22.

^ Ib id . 168 borrowed Shaw's device of structuring the plot around the social inter­ action of week-end v is ito rs at a B ritis h country house.

Behrman reread Heartbreak House and transcribed the following excerpt from Shaw's preface to his play:

The war did not change men's minds in any such impossible way. What rea lly happened was that the impact of physical death and destruction, the one reality that every fool can understand, tore off the masks of eduction, art, science, and religion from our ignorance and barbarism, and le ft us glorying grotesquely in the license suddenly accorded to our v ile s t passions and most abject terrors. °

Shaw's reflections on the war prompted Behrman to observe: "Now the depression, even worse than the war, has done the same thing. And this

play should be to guard against the depression— danger--the depress­

ion— the pest—worse than any war . . . — this the n o te ." ^ In his

concluding notes on Heartbreak House, Behrman acknowledged his consider­ able debt to Bernard Shaw:

Use the Shaw quote for epigraph—and for introduction. Since Shaw admits frankly in his preface to his Masterpiece to having been inspired by Chekhov (and the s ta rs ), I do not see how he can blame me if I confess to having been inspired to w rite Rain From Heaven by him. The only d if f e r ­ ence is that happily, Mr. Shaw is not dead.20

Behrman's speculations on the potential use of Heartbreak House

impelled him to vitiate the light comic vein that he had conceived for

his "high comedy of love" based on The Merchant of Venice. The dramatic

^Shaw, p. 21. Cited in RFH Notes, 17 January 193^, P- 23.

Notes, 17 January 193^, p. 23*

^ I b i d . , 18 January 193*t, p. 2k. 169 course of Rain From Heaven was diverted from "a comic treatment of A n ti-

Semitism" to the more serious exposition of "what happens to tolerance

,,21 in a depression.

Behrman's initial dramatic intention was to depict Kerr as the male protagonist of Rain From Heaven. At the very least, the play would focus on the dual protagonists of the refugee and the title d English­ woman, whom Behrman envisioned as the hostess of his modified "Heart­ break House" in Rain From Heaven. As Behrman worked on the m ilieu of the play, however, he shifted the balance of characterizations in favor of the "Ina C laire" role. He consistently id en tified the female lead

in his "sequel to Biography" with Ina C laire, who had created the role of "Marion Froude." Behrman was not unaware of the change in emphasis.

9 9 He advised himself to "counteract this tendency to force for Ina,"^ and he later queried: "Would 1 be doing any better if I weren't trying to write a play for Ina and were writing one instead for Muni or Leslie?"^

Notwithstanding his self-conscious admonitions against focussing on Ina

C laire, Behrman proceeded to develop the character of the B ritish noble­ woman as the leading role in Rain From Heaven.

Stimulated perhaps by his reminiscences of Biography, Behrman

reverted to two of his models of "Marion Froude" as prototypes for the

heroine in Rain From Heaven: Margot Asquith and her daughter, Princess

^ ^ Ib id ., 16 January 193*+, p* 22.

Ib id ., *+ January 193*+, p. 13.

^ Ib id ., 21 January 193*+, p. 27- "Muni" and "Leslie" refer to the actors Paul Muni and Leslie Howard, whom Behrman cited as possible choices for the Alfred Kerr role. 170

Elizabeth Bibesco. He noted that the noblewoman could be "a young Margot

Asquith" or "Elizabeth Bibesco." Margot Asquith was the wife of

Herbert Henry Asquith, the Prime Minister of Great Britain from 1908

u n til 1916. A fter Asquith was replaced by Lloyd George in 1916, he was granted a peerage as "the first Earl of Oxford," and Mrs. Asquith

accordingly assumed the t i t l e "Lady Oxford." Behrman frequently

referred to Mrs. Asquith in his notes as "Margot" or "Lady Oxford."

The nature of the Asquith-Bibesco character in Rain From Heaven was, to some extent, predetermined by the strands that Behrman derived

from the three major lite ra ry sources for his play: the Heartbreak

House scenario, Alfred Kerr's essay on exiles, and the remnant of the

"Portia" theme from The Merchant of Venice. The noblewoman that Behrman

la te r called "Lady Wyngate" was in e ffe c t committed to a predisposed

course of action. The Heartbreak House model dictated that she should

be the proprietor of a country estate that could serve as the setting

for the action of Rain From Heaven: Lady Wyngate would assume the role

of hostess for a week-end gathering of guests ("invited" by Behrman).

Behrman's notes on the Alfred Kerr character indicated that the German

refugee would function as a romantic interest for Lady Wyngate. The

modified "Portia" theme demanded that Lady Wyngate be called upon to

defend her allegedly miscegenous relationship with the Jewish critic on

the grounds of emotional affectio n tempered by an in tellectu al b e lie f

0 / 1 Ib id ., k January 193^, p. 1^-. For Behrman's consideration of Mrs. Asquith and Princess Bibesco as models for "Marion Froude" in Biography, see Chapter IV, pp. 108-113- 171

in social tolerance. Behrman's selection of specific character details

from his personal acquaintance with Lady Oxford and Elizabeth Bibesco was colored by the predetermined dramatic demands of Rain From Heaven.

Lady Wyngate might resemble Marion Froude in temperament, but Behrman

created his “British Marion" with a difference: she possessed an active

social conscience.

Behrman sifted through his reminiscences of Lady Oxford and E liz a ­

beth Bibesco in order to select the appropriate d etails for his char­

acterization of Lady Wyngate. He recalled Elizabeth Bibesco's reaction

to the impending execution of Sacco and Vanzetti in 1927, and he

resolved to “use the episode on the train—Elizabeth Bibesco crying

over S. V.“^5 The “episode" was later incorporated into a first-act

scene between Lady Lael Wyngate and an American fin an cier, “Hobart

Eldridge." Behrman used the incident to illustrate Lady Wyngate's

visceral involvement in social issues:

LAEL: Most men simply can't imagine any woman except in relation to themselves. Are you like that too, Mr. Eldridge? 1 imagine you are.' HOBART: (Wary) I wouldn't think of answering a question like that without preparation. LAEL: I'm sure you are. An amusing instance of it happened during the one serious quarrel I ever had with my husband. It was during the Sacco- Vanzetti tr ia l in America. I'd read everything there was to be found about it and f e lt passionately. I was coming up here one day in the tr a in — I was living here alone then-~for the moment Nick and I had separated. I had ju s t read Vanzetti 's farewell letter; I sat there thinking of this man being shunted in and out of the death-house, facing ignominious death and

Ib id ., 8 January 193^, p. 15* 172

sitting down to write this patient, forgiving, beautiful letter and I began to cry. I just sat there— crying. A stranger was in the same carriage; I had forgotten his existence—a nice old Anglo-Indian colonel. He put his hand on my arm--"My dear young lady," he said, "Come.1 Come.' A pretty young woman lik e you.'" Life d id n 't seem long enough to explain to him that I was not crying about a lost lover but about Sacco and Vanzetti. "Think of all life has in store for you," he said. I was thinking about death but I couldn't help laughing. "Do you think so?" I asked. "That is right," he answered. "Keep a s t i f f upper lip.'" HOBART: Maybe your soldier friend wasn't far from right. Maybe your personal unhappiness was mixed up with those tears, Lady Wyngate. LAEL: There you are.'

In Margot Asquith's personal history Behrman discovered details that suited his characterization of Lady Wyngate. Regarding the hero­ ine's relationship with the character of the Jewish c r it ic , "Hugo

W illen s," Behrman noted the necessity of including a scene in which

Lady Wyngate "could defend him— stand by him— as Margot stood by Oscar."27

Behrman's references to "Margot" and "Oscar" were an allusion to Margot

Asquith's defense of the Irish playwright Oscar Wilde, who was sentenced to two years in prison a fte r his conviction in 1895 on charges of sodomy. In her published reminiscences, Mrs. Asquith reflected on her friendship with Wilde and expressed her view of the effects of his

imprisonment:

Oscar Wilde and I saw one another often after our first meeting in May, 1888. . . . I think he found the lack of paradox in my conversation re s tfu l. . . . When he was

^Behrman, Rain From Heaven in Four Plays By S. N. Behrman (New York: Random House, 1952), act 1, p. 217.

^ RFH Notes, 10 January 193^, P* 17- 173

convicted, Oscar Wilde was treated with such cruelty and inhumanity that i t is possible that physical and mental anguish impaired his powers of reflection. . . . It would be a te rrib le confession if you could not extend sympathy to such a tortured, isolated soul.^°

Behrman did not dramatize Lady Oxford's defense of Oscar Wilde in the action of Rain From Heaven, but he equated the social stigma of homo­ sexual ity with the onus of Semitism in his early notes on a speech for

Hugo Wi1 lens:

Rain From Heaven: he says — there is always a region in peoples' consciousnesses where you can't touch them--jews or communists or negros or homosexuals--there is always that line— that crossing line.^9

From Behrman's point of view, Lady Oxford's defense of Wilde's homo­ sexuality was the metaphorical equivalent of Lady Wyngate‘s defense of

Hugo W iliens' Judaism in Rain From Heaven.

Another incident from Margot Asquith's past paralleled the situation between Lady Wyngate and Hugo Wiliens in Rain From Heaven. In Behrman's play, the Fascist American fin an cier, Hobart Eldridge, berates Lady

Wyngate for her involvement with "swine" like Hugo W illens.^ Similarly,

in May, 1918, Mrs. Asquith was "attacked most scurrilously by Lord

Alfred Douglas and Pemberton B illin g for having befriended one German prisoner and having a German governess for her children."-^

^^Margot Oxford, More or Less About Myself (New York: E. P. Dutton, 193*0, pp. 116-119 pass im.

^ RFH Notes, 3 January 193**, p. 6.

"3 0 Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 2, sc. 2, p. 259*

^Lady O ttoline M orrell, Ottoline at Garsington, ed. Robert Gathorne-Hardy (London: Faber and Faber, 197*0, PP* 260-261. 17^

Further details of the allegations and Mrs. Asquith's defense were reported in the New York Times:

Mrs. Asquith, whose husband was Prime M inister when the war began, was accused by the Globe of London of treating German prisoners in England in a manner hardly becoming in the w ife of the head of the Government, which was at war with Germany. Suit was brought against the paper. Mrs. Asquith explained her v is its to the prisoners on humanitarian grounds, and the Globe ap o lo g ized .^

Mrs. Asquith and her dramatic counterpart, Lady Wyngate, shared an apparent capacity for compassion.

Behrman's frequent references to Elizabeth Bibesco and Lady Oxford as models for Lady Wyngate were supplemented by occasional allusions to three other celebrated English noblewomen: Lady As tor, Lady Ottoline

M orrell, and Lady Rhonnda.

Behrman's reference to Lady Astor consisted of the brief notation:

"Make her a woman of exhausting energy— Lady A sto r."33 Nancy Astor was the American-born wife of Waldorf Astor, whose father William Waldorf

Astor was Behrman's model for the character of the American fin a n c ie r,

Hobart Eldridge, in Rain From Heaven. Lady Astor was also a close friend of Behrman's primary model for Lady Wyngate; Lady Oxford. In his biography of Nancy Astor, Christopher Sykes compared the personalities of Lady Astor and Lady Oxford:

The two ladies were very dissimilar but they had character­ istics in common, notably unquenchable v i t a l i t y , abounding courage, and the desire and capacity to shine not only in fashionable society but wherever they happened to be.

•^New York Times, 31 May 1918, p. 1.

33rfh Notes, 17 January 193^+, p. 22. 175

Both were histrionic. They both enjoyed a reputation for wit. . . . Both had the gift of quick, uninhibited, often boisterous repartee. . . . They were both so talkative and said so much on so many subjects that they could hardly avoid saying something good sometimes about something. . . . They had one great thing in common: in th eir very d if f e r ­ ent ways both of these famous ladies amazed and enriched the England pf th e ir time. Both were much resented and much loved .^

Both Margot Asquith and Lady Astor exercised considerable social and political power by virtue of the circumstances of their respective lives.

Mrs. Asquith was the wife of the Prime M inister. Nancy Astor enjoyed

the d is tin c tio n of being the f ir s t woman to have taken a seat in the

B ritish House of Commons, where she remained a prominent member from

1919 to 1945.35 Sykes observed that the fame and power that was assoc­

iated with both Lady Astor and Margot Asquith caused them to be inevit­ ably "loved and hated, admired and deplored, . . . both in lif e and

a f t e r . "3^ Behrman included the d etail of both womens' subjection to

the public criticisms of their contemporaries in his characterization

of Lady Wyngate in Rain From Heaven. In a second-act scene with Hugo

Willens, the refugee apologizes for the "unfair" criticism that Lady

Wyngate must endure because of her rumored affectio n for him. Lady

Wyngate's response contains her seasoned reflections on a lifetim e of

notor iety:

Nonsense.' If I were upset by rumors about me— this is mild compared to some. I've given up years ago worrying

34 Christopher Sykes, Nancy: The Life of Lady Astor (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), pp. 112-114 passim.

3 5 |b id .. p. 15.

36, bi d . 176

about what some people say. Do you know why? Because everybody else in the world is anonymous really except those fe w --it can never be more than a very few--who really matter to me. One, at most two absolute friends.37

Another aspect of Lady Wyngate's characterization that Behrman may have derived from his knowledge of Lady Astor and Lady Oxford was the heroine's admission that she lived in a "Heartbreak House" of blissful ignorance before her marriage to the B ritish e d ito r of a Liberal weekly magazine.-^ Lady Wyngate is depicted as a widow in Rain From Heaven.

She attributed her political activism to the influence of her husband

(while Behrman acknowledged his debt to Shaw) in a f ir s t-a c t scene with a p o litic a lly naive American suitor:

LAEL: Don't you see—We're worlds apart. RAND: Simply because you imagine we disagree th e o re tic a lly — LAEL: Your defense of me . . . was touching but it only proves how l i t t l e you know me. What did you say? I'm good-hearted and mean nothing by what I do. But I do, Rand— I try to mean a good deal. I'm a determined woman. Are you te rrifie d ? RAND: No. LAEL: How can I put you off? How can I f in a lly put you off? . . . You bring out the worst in me, Rand— the most feminine. I haven't had this kind of conver­ sation since before I married, when 1 lived in Heartbreak House. RAND: Where? LAEL: It's a fancy by Mr. Shaw. I'd like you to meet him. H e 'll probably put you in a play. Being a seden­ tary vegetarian he adores men who fly to unknown worlds and administer torrid continents.39

37 J / Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 2, sc. 1, p. 237.

^ I b i d . , act 1, p. 193.

^9|bid., act 1, pp. 21^-215. Behrman's implication that Lady Wyngate enjoyed the company of Bernard Shaw may have been derived from Lady Astor's we 11-publicized friendship with Shaw. Shaw claimed that to v is it Lady Astor on the Sabbath was "to spend Sunday with a volcano." (Sykes, pp. 2Sk-32k.) Both Lady Astor and Margot Asquith experienced sim ilar ideological enlightenments through their marriages to political figures. Lady

Astor's major preoccupations were "horses, hunting and dogs"^® before

her marriage to Waldorf Astor in 1906. Her f i r s t adventure in the

p o litic a l arena consisted of canvassing votes for her husband's campaign as a Conservative candidate for the House of Commons in 1909. Lady

Oxford confessed a similar indifference to politics before her marriage

to Asquith in 189^. When she first met Asquith, he was a five-year veteran of the House of Commons and was Gladstone's rumored choice for

the Cabinet post of Home Secretary, a position that Asquith assumed in

1892. Mrs. Asquith recalled in her autobiography: "I met my husband

for the f ir s t time in 1 8 9 1 * . . . I had never heard of him in my l if e , which gives some indication of how I was wasting my time."^ Mrs.

Asquith was fifteen years older than Nancy Astor: her political awak­

ening predated Lady Astor's interest in government by a number of years.

In his biography of Lady Astor, Christopher Sykes contrasted the pre­

war s e n s ib ilitie s of Lady Astor and Margot Asquith in a passage that

resembles the closing scene in Heartbreak House:

'They were gay and happy d a y s ,1 wrote Nancy of 191^, 'but a ll the time the shadow was there, even for those who could not see it . In Scotland one day I sat with old Lord Wemyss. We watched a glorious sunset over the North Sea. It was a lovely evening, very bright and clear. Lord Wemyss said sadly: "The Germans are coming. They are coming over this very sea that looks so peaceful and harmless tonight. And nothing will make people realise it." I thought it the

**°Sykes, p. 50.

^Margot Asquith, An Autobiography (New York: George H. Doran, 1921), p. 19*f. 178

vapourings of an old man. I myself was one of the people he could not make realise it . 'I remember one of Margot Asquith's parties, and seeing the Russian and German ambassadors standing side by side, one licking his lips, the other fingering his monocle. Margot said sotto voce;, "'Only those two old fools between us and European w a r." '4

Behrman's mention of Lady O ttoline Morrell in his notes for Rain

From Heaven was a llie d with his thoughts on Lady Wyngate as a prominent society hostess.^ Mrs. Asquith's social circle was composed largely of political figures. Lady Astor cosseted a few literary giants, such as Rudyard Kipling and Bernard Shaw, but she displayed "a complete ignorance of music," and did not cultivate the friendship of profession­ als in the performing a rts .^ Behrman had planned to include character­ izations of a theatre critic, a concert pianist and a singer in the action of Rain From Heaven. Lady O ttoline M orrell's c irc le was a more appropriate model for the type of social gathering that Behrman envis­

ioned for his play. Lady O ttoline, who was a noted disciple of the

Bloomsbury group, was "an in tellectu al hostess"^-’ rather than a p o l i t i ­ cal one. Her friends included Virginia Woolf, Lytton Strachey, Bertrand

Russell, T. S. Eliot, Katherine Mansfield, Desmond MacCarthy, Siefgried,

Sassoon, Robert Graves and Aldous Huxley. During th e ir week-end v is its

to Lady O ttoline's home at Bedford Square, "the guests became for a

^S ykes, p. 150.

^ RFH Notes, 11 January 193^, p. 18.

^ S y k e s , p. 100.

^Sandra Darroch, Ottol i ne (London: Chatto S-Windus, 1976). 179

time members of the household." A sim ilar atmosphere prevails in

Rain From Heaven.

Behrman's fin al model for Lady Wyngate was Lady R h o n n d a .^ A peeress

in her own right, Viscountess Rhonnda was the founder of the weekly magazine Time and Tide. Her publication featured lite ra ry essays and

lightweight political commentary that was left-wing and aggressively

fem inist. For many years she campaigned with the support of Lady Astor

for the admission of women into the House of Lords. Behrman included

the detail of Lady Rhonnda's career as a publisher in his exposition of

Lady Wyngate in Rain From Heaven:

HOBART: Hardly know how to explain to you. Her reputa­ tion. . . . RAND: What j_s her reputation? HOBART: H ell, she's commonly considered— to put it mildly--eccentri c. RAND: How do you mean eccentric? HOBART: For one thing her husband was l i t t l e better than a f i re-eate r . RAND: Did you know her husband? HOBART: No, but I know plenty who did. I know the paper he edited--which her money supported and s till supports. RAND: She showed me a copy of i t in New York. Seemed harmless — fu ll of book reviews. HOBART: It's communistic.' That's what gets on my nerves—a woman of her class—whose fortune has been b u ilt up by a lot of hard-working manufac­ turers , supporti ng the Clarion—a Liberal weekly that's very dangerous — that wants to destroy the system that gives her her income. A woman of fine family whose father was knighted for war work, who might have her house fu ll of the best people, surrounding herself with a lot of riff-raff.

^Gathorne-Hardy, p. 23.

**7rFH Notes, 29 January 193^-, p- 35*

^S ykes, p. 4*f0. 180

RAND: I don't see any r i f f - r a f f . , HOBART: You w ill i f you stay here— ^

Behrman's f i r s t attempt a t creating the " r i f f - r a f f " that would complete his l i s t of dramatis personae was his characterization of the

German e x ile that was based on the model of Alfred Kerr. He noted:

"Take Alfred Kerr as example of refugee— speaks English perfectly."5®

Behrman had originally intended to explore the comic potential inherent in Kerr's alleged "sentimental journey" as an exile. When he substi­ tuted Heartbreak House for The Merchant of Venice as the literary model fo r Rain From Heaven, however, he resolved to investigate the more serious implications of Wiliens' flight from Germany. He advised himself to "look up that Alfred Kerr article,and he supplemented Kerr's reminiscences with information provided by Dr. Rudolph Kommer. The anecdote related to Kerr that interested Behrman most was Kommer's account of Kerr's relationship with the playwright Gerhart Hauptmann.

Behrman recalled his conversation with Kommer.

Dr. Kommer told me of Kerr's long friendship and devotion to Gerhart Hauptmann, how he had propagandized and w ritten with a ll the eloquence he could summon, in season and out of season, year after year, in praise of his hero and how during the political crisis marked by the election of Hitler, the Grand Old Man turned his back on Kerr, as he did on a ll his friends and associates who did not measure up to the new standardization. When I walked home from Dr. Kommer's I saw that scene of Kerr's repudiation by his friend and hero. I saw Mr. Kerr coming in to Hauptmann expecting the fam iliar and mellow greeting. (I could visu alize Hauptmann from his pictures— he looked like Goethe. Kerr, in this tw ilig h t

49 'oehrman, Rain From Heaven, act 1, p. 193-

5QrFH Notes, 3 January 1934, p. 5*

Ib id ., 4 January 1934, p. 7- 181

day-dream walking home through the New York December dusk, I visualized as young, ardent, dark, romantic. Actually, I am told, he is a man of 6k with an Assyrian beard and two children.) . . . I saw this scene, which probably never occurred u n til it did to me. . . . The meeting between Kerr and Hauptmann became only a narrated incident in the finished play, but it seemed to me then, and s till does, an essential c o n flic t. There they were, these two men, two a r tis ts , two c iv iliz e d men, two essences of what the race might be— the author of The Weavers and the author of an exquisite poem in which a man mourns the untimely passing of another artist who might have become a friend. Here, in the great man's quiet study one might hope for the emer­ gence of a spirit and an understanding transcending the clamors and fero cities of the marching, lustful mobs. Here, in a clear vapor, might rise an emanation so distilled and powerful that miraculously it might delethalize those other and headier exhalations from the test-tubes of the poison gas chemists and from the heated breaths of the demagogues. Because if not from this room, from where else? That it did not come--this for me—was essential tragedy.-5

The "narrated incident" that Behrman alluded to in his article was included in the dialogue for a second-act scene between Lady Wyngate and

Hugo W iliens. Behrman changed Hauptmann's name to "Lehrmann." Even without the assistance of Behrman's annotation, "Lehrmann's" life model is fai rly apparent:

LAEL: During the trouble at home--did no one stand by you? HUGO: I was aware of one friend. He was an unknown playwright. I felt this man to be, though he was even then middle-aged, the freshest and the most living voice, since Ibsen, in Europe. In my first published book, a large part was devoted to him. But the book brought me more success than it brought him--as a result of it I was invited to lecture in America. I took his plays with me. I translated them and lectured on them from New York to San Francisco. Now, you must understand that in all this, I was exalting myself; it was the most any c r it ic can be, a d is c ip le of greatness. . . . And I had the greatest reward such

-^ New York Times, 30 December 193^-, sec. 9, P* 3- 182

discipleship can have. As a result of my enthu­ siasm a curious phenomenon took place; the fame I created for him in America reverberated to Germany— and we began to accept him at home.' LAEL: You mean Lehrmann. I suppose? HUGO: Yes, Lehrmann. LAEL: He's your Grand Old Man, is n 't he? HUGO: Something like that. He's over sixty. I've hero- worshipped him for th irty years. I came to see him, sure that in his mellow greeting I would be in some sense— restored. Because I actually felt a wavering of sanity. I had sent him the manuscript of my pamphlet. I began to tell him how disturbed I was by the New Dispensation when I detected a new look in his eyes, a new manner. He had not smiled in greeting; he had not given me his hand. He refused point-blank to read my pamphlet; in a hard voice he advised me to tear it up. "This is a new day," he said to me. "There is no place in it for Oriental decadence.'" Oriental.' My family had lived in Germany for hundreds of years. I sat there staring at him. In his eyes, already glazed with mortality, I saw something impenetrable, incurably h o s tile , something that no appeal to the past could soften. That look did for me. I'd never had such a sense of helpless­ ness. For in his youth this man had been the voice of the submerged— he had w ritten the saga of the oppressed and the poor; he had been a living instru­ ment of ju s tic e . There he sat, impersonal, hard, fanatical. He let me go without asking me to come again, as you let go a servant who has cheated you and to whom you refuse to give a reference. . . . Friendship.' (A pause.) After all — it's none of your a ffai r, is it? LAEL: That's the unkindest thing I think, that anyone's ever said to me.53

Behrman compensated for his limited insight into Alfred Kerr's predicament by researching the topics of persecution and exile in avail­ able literary sources. The impetus for the character that emerged from

Behrman's notes was provided by Kerr's essay in the New York Times, but many of the details of Hugo Wiliens' characterization were derived from the writings of Jules Romains and Heinrich Mann.

53Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 2, sc. 1, pp. 237-38. 183

Using Kerr as his model, Behrman characterized the exiled Hugo

Willens in Rain From Heaven as "a lite ra ry and music c r i t i c — a very prominent one."^ Behrman deviated from the characteristics of his prototype by describing Willens1 ethnic heritage as largely "Aryan."55

He elaborated on the seeming paradox of the Nazis' persecution of an

Aryan c r it ic in his f ir s t - a c t exposition of the refugee's background:

HUGO: Why should I be the Jewish apologist? I'm not a Jew. That is to say-- LAEL: Oh.' HUGO: I had a Jewish great-grandmother. LAEL: But what an indiscretion.' What an indulgence.' RAND: Well, I never heard such nonsense.' Do you mean to say they actually— HUGO: Yes, and my father was a m inister in the Protestant Church. LAEL: S till— that speck— that unfortunate—speck. HUGO: Curiously enough, I was rather proud of that speck— when 1 thought of it--which wasn't often— it was not unpleasant to remember I had i t . This odd and mysterious strain—did it give me sympathy and flavor, intellectual audacity, impudence and intensity? . . . That's how I f e lt about— the speck. I was a Nordic with an interesting racial fillip . I was secretly vain about it—until it began.' LAEL: The chromosome-hunt.' HUGO: The chromosome hunt.' A curious experience— to find myself overnight a marked person, a special person. Curious discomfort. I kept saying to myself: What is it? What is i t you feel? You are the same— in spite of these looks, these sudden stillnesses in conversation, this restraint—you are the same. But within forty-eight hours, it was not the same. Spiritually, I was in the ghetto. . . . The strangest thing happened. I cannot— s t i l l I cannot understand it. Atavism? The—speck— took possession of me. I became its creature. I moved under its order­ ing. . . . I admit that leaving the Fatherland has

•^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 1, p. 198.

551 b id ., p. 206. 184

restored my balance a bit. I am quite over this aberration. I've returned to my Aryan inheritance.'1

Behrman's notion of including a "speck" of Jewish blood in Hugo

W illens' ethnic make-up was derived from his examination of a passage

from a book by Jules Romains. On February 5, 1934, Behrman noted:

"Look up Jules Romains— Passion's P i l g r i m s . "57 Behrman's subsequent development of the critic's characterization as the "Jewish" son of a

Protestant minister was a modified version of Romains' description of

the fic tio n a l character "George A llory" in a chapter e n title d "A Great

C r itic :"

The chance of b irth had not been kind to him. He was the son of a registrar in Valence, and his real name was Abraham David. . . . Those who had known him when he s t i l l bore his patronymic, or those who found it mentioned in some year-book, did not fail to point out to other people that he was a Jew. During the Dreyfus a f f a ir he had to su ffer for th is , more than once. He protested his Christian origin; but his protestations availed scarcely anything except to get him taken for a Jew ashamed of being one, which did not endear him to anybody. As a matter of fa c t, the Davids were an old Protestant fam ily, established for a hundred years past in lower Ardeche.5°

Behrman used Jules Romains' book as his source for the d eta ils of

Hugo Willens' background. The German refugee Heinrich Mann provided

the playwright with the details of Willens' reflections on Nazidom and

e x ile . In March, 1934, Behrman transcribed a passage from Mann's

a r tic le "Dictatorship of the Mind" that had appeared in a recent issue

of Foreign A ffai rs . Behrman noted:

561 bid-, pp. 205-06.

57rfH Notes, p. 43.

•^Jules Romains, Passion's Pilgrim s, trans. Warren B. Wells (New York: Alfred Knopf, 193^)» P* 202. 185

Heinrich Mann speaks out b itte r ly about the young who have hailed and helped the dictatorship—"if thought is now controlled in Germany instead of being free it is ch iefly the fa u lt of the younger generation." USE. 59

Mann characterized German youth as the essential core of Hitler's power:

The least resistance comes from the youth. Always susceptible to irrational enthusiasm and appeals to collective action, the young men of Germany are the very basis of the dictator­ ship. They were the f ir s t to applaud i t , and i t rewards them by endlessly dwelling upon the inestimable value attrib u te d to physical youth in certain epochs. Indeed, the a b ilit y to appeal to youth is cle a rly of the utmost value to leaders who are on bad terms with critical minds; they have nothing of that kind to fear from the young. Neither a c ritic a l sense nor common sense prevented the students from driving out professors who happened to be Jewish, democratic, or simply honest. Nor has it prevented them from taking bloody reprisals against th e ir classmates who hold d iffe re n t ideas from theirs. 0

Behrman dramatized Mann's essay in a scene between the Fascist American

fin an cier, Hobart Eldridge, Lady Wyngate, and Hugo Willens in Rain From

Heaven:

LAEL: Mr. Eldridge is organizing an Anglo-American Youth League. . . . What are you going to ask the Anglo-American Youth to do for you? HOBART: We are appealing to the generous s p ir it of the youth of both countries to mobilize against the subversive forces current in the world today. LAEL: Are you appealing to i t because it 's generous or because it 's uncritical? HUGO: It's a myth about the generosity of youth. Youth is bloodthirsty and savage— it's only the excep­ tional youth that's generous— ju s t as it's only the exceptional man. LAEL: I don't agree with you, Hugo. I think the impulse of youth is to be generous.

*^RFH Notes, 12 March 1934, pp. 63-64.

^Heinrich Mann, "Dictatorship of the Mind," Foreign Affai rs 12 (April, 1934): 423-4. 186

HUGO: When it 's w ell-fed and romping i t may be occasion­ a lly , out of excess of energy--but normally it isn't. But then, normally, who is? No point in being qu ixo tic, is there? Excuse me, Lady Wyngate, I think I'll watch the tennis. (Hugo saunters out) LAEL: I hate Youth Movements. They a ll come to the same thing. Boy Scouts with bayonets. Do you want a private army, Hobart? Have you a l i t t l e d ictato r hatching in your brain?

On April 6, 193*t, Behrman advised himself to "read Mann again and put it in directly—about people not interested in defeated causes."

Behrman's allusion was a reference to the following passage from Mann's

Most of the intellectuals considered undesirable in Germany have neither chosen to die nor accepted the kind of lif e which th eir enemies had in store for them. They emigrated, and that in it s e lf was bad enough. They are now undergoing the fate of a ll emigre^, which is not only poverty and loneliness, but lack of moral consideration. The average man has l i t t l e respect for those whose cause has fa ile d , and who thereby are transformed from influential personal­ ities into simple refugees. ^

Behrman transformed Mann's observations into a second-act speech for

Hugo Wi1 lens:

HUGO: To be a refugee is to belong to a lost cause. And people are bored by defeat. . . . For a moment sympathetic people and generous people may be kind to the victim , but the average man has nothing but contempt for anyone who has been so footless as to put himself permanently in the wrong in the country of his origin. I saw it in people's faces the moment I crossed the fro n tie r. A flic k e r of ch ivalry— merging almost instantly into a guarded boredom.5^

^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 2, sc. 2, p. 22 b.

62RFH Notes, p. 90.

^Mann, p. A-20.

^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 2, sc. 2, p. Zk5- 187

Mann's specific reference to the lack of moral consideration among emigres, notably his remark that refugees often "find themselves where they are for reasons that have no connection with moral p rin c ip ie ,"^5 provided Behrman with a final significant element of Hugo Willens* characterization. The playwright resolved to end Rain From Heaven with

Willens1 decision to return to Germany at the risk of probable extermin­ ation by the Nazis. The refugee's action was based, in part, on the

"moral considerations" that Mann cited as the mental preoccupations of many emigres. Willens' ethical choice to return to Germany was expressed in a th ird -a c t scene with Lady Wyngate:

HUGO: . . . I went up to my room. I sat a t the window and looked over the garden, asleep in the moonlight. Enchantment. And suddenly the unreality of every­ thing, of my presence here in this house overcame me. I thought: What can I hope fo r—what can I foresee—vistas of bliss in this pleasant country- house—with you. But what would it end in— a self-indulgent day-dream. I thought: What am I doing here? What am I? LAEL: What am J? HUGO: It 's your home. You belong here. But for me. . . . I must leave you. I must go. LAEL: Where? HUGO: Back to Germany. LAEL: Oh.' But you can't go back, Hugo. They' 1 l--s to p you. HUGO: I must risk it . LAEL: Don't go, Hugo.' HUGO: I must. 1 must. Look at my career— a public taster of the arts--a dilettante in everything, except that I was paid. Behind this decorative curtain I was forced to discover that there is a harsh reality. Well, I must investigate this reality fu rth er. To stay here, to go to America would only be a continuation of my life before. Intellectual

^M ann, p. ^20. 188

squirearchy.1 . . . I'm determined at last to view the world-including myself—completely without illusion. It's a matter of life and death.

Behrman's characterizations of Lady Wyngate and Hugo Willens comprised two parts of the romantic trian g le (more scalene than isoceles) that he conceived for the action of Rain From Heaven. The third "angle" was represented by the character of "Rand Eldridge," whose fir s t-a c t conquest of Lady Wyngate's a ffectio n yielded to W ilien's hold on the Englishwoman's emotions through the second and third acts of the play. Behrman initially imagined Eldridge as a British aristo­ crat, ^7 but he subsequently resolved to depict Rand as an American.

Behrman's decision to change the character's nationality was prompted by his inspiration to model Rand Eldridge on the American explorer, Richard E. Byrd. On January 3, 193^, Behrman noted his conception of Eldridge as a "Byrd-like explorer—and his modesty."

A later account of the Virginian explorer's character corroborated

Behrman's assessment o f Byrd's hum ility: "Admiral Byrd's modesty and smiling courtesy added to his fame, and his popularity grew as much from his personal q u a litie s as from what he had done."^9 Behrman referred to Eldridge as "Richard" throughout his work on the first-act manuscript of Rain From Heaven. His incorporation of Byrd's tra its

66 Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 3, pp. 270-272 passim.

^7rFH Notes, 3 January 193^, p. 6.

6 8 1 bid.

N e w York Times, 12 March 1957» P* 18. 189

into the final characterization of Eldridge is manifest in the published stage description:

Rand Eldridge is a little over thirty, a Southern American and very attractive. The most attractive thing about him is a kind of shyness, a s lig h tly uncomfortable awareness that he radiates an aura of fame which makes him conspic­ uous when really he would prefer to be unobserved.'

Behrman's fir s t-a c t dialogue about Rand included descriptive phrases that could also relate to Byrd. Eldridge is depicted as a "South Pole explorer," who was decorated in Washington fo r his expedition to

Antarctica and given a Fifth-Avenue parade on the occasion of his

return to America.7^ Eldridge's prototype, Richard Byrd, was on his second expedition to Antarctica while Behrman was writing Rain From

Heaven. 7^ When he returned from his f i r s t expedition in November, 1929, he was given a hero's welcome in New York. Behrman alluded to a similar reception for Eldridge.

Behrman did not conduct extensive research into Byrd's career for his characterization of Eldridge. Perhaps the contemporary newspaper accounts of Byrd's current adventure provided him with sufficient details for his study of Rand. He reminded himself to curtail his examination of Byrd in the note: "Just because he's an explorer doesn't mean you have to drag in every quotation you can find about him or about explorers ."73

^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 1, p. 189.

71 Ib id ., act 1, pp. 188; 190; 199-

7^Behrman spent the entire year of 193** writing his play. Byrd's expedition lasted from 1933 to 1935-

7^ RFH Notes, 15 February 193*1, p. **9- 190

The only discrepancy between Byrd's background and Eld ridge's description of himself in Rain From Heaven was Behrman's allusion to

Rand's conquest of "Mount Wachusett" in his youth. Eldridge's account of his childhood adventure was included in an expository scene with Lady

Wyngate:

RAND: When I was a k id — I hated school — I simply couldn't study. . . . There was a h ill—Mount Wachusett--it wasn't much more than that— I could see it out of the window of the little country schoolhouse, misty blue and very far away. One spring morning, when I should have been studying, I found myself looking at it— I had a wish to climb it— to climb it, to discover it for myself. I've never understood what came over me. But I ju st put down my book, le ft the schoolhouse and made for it . LAEL: How old were you? RAND: I was eight. It was farther away than I thought. When I got to it, it was nightfall. I spent the night in a barn. At sunrise 1 got up and climbed to the top. I'll never forget that instant—when I got to the summit and looked around at what seemed to me the whole world. LAEL: How glorious.1 Like finding a Pole. RAND: Much more t h r illin g because more d e fin ite . You wouldn't know you were at the Pole i f your instru­ ments d id n 't te ll you so. When I got to the top of Mount Wachusett, I knew 1 7

According to Behrman's earlier description of Rand as a Southern Ameri­ can, the locale of Eldridge's "country schoolhouse" and Mount Wachusett should conceivably be in the South. Mount Wachusett was actually a hill located approximately twenty miles north of Behrman's home in

Worcester, Massachusetts: it was probably visible from the window of

Behrman's city schoolhouse. Behrman's dramatic account of Eldridge's youth betrayed the playwright's New England origins rather than Byrd's boyhood in V irg in ia.

^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 1, p. 210. 191

For his characterization of Hobart Eldridge, Rand Eldridge's elder brother, Behrman turned to the American financier William Waldorf Astor and the B ritish Fascist Oswald Mosley as models. On January 11, 193^,

Behrman noted Astor as a possible prototype: "business— baronet--say

like Viscount Astor--expatriate (? )."^ Two weeks later, while Behrman was working on a sketch of Rand Eldridge, he cited Astor again: "Brother very rich— backs his exploration—William Waldorf Astor . . . Look up

William Waldorf Astor.Astor's name also appeared in the more elaborate description of Eldridge:

T e rrific conservative American who emigrated for old England . . . who finds that what he has bought is not so valuable in English eyes . . . has bought a paper--Fascist editor . . . find out all about William Waldorf Astor.77

Behrman's rudimentary assumptions about the d etails of Astor's lif e

are confirmed by later studies of the financier. William Waldorf Astor was the grandson of John Jacob Astor, who established the family fortune

in the late eighteenth century by purchasing large amounts of real

estate in New York C ity. In 1899, W illiam Waldorf Astor became a

B ritis h subject. In 1916 he was made a baron, and he accepted the

promotion to a viscountcy in 1917- Christopher Sykes characterized

Astor as "a conservative of conservatives."^ Astor's grandson,

Michael Astor, noted that in 1892 his grandfather "bought The Pa 11 Ma11

75rFH Notes, p. 19.

76Ib id ., 25 January 193^* P« 3k.

7 7 |b id ., 2k January 193^-, p- 30.

7^Sykes, p. 79- 192

Gazette. What had been a Liberal paper, would, he decreed, become a

Conservative p a p e r . "^9 Astor added to his publishing empire in 1911 with his purchase of the Conservative newspaper The Observer from Lord

Northe 1i ffe .

Behrman incorporated the details of Astor's expatriation, his

conservatism, and his career as a publisher into his characterization

of Hobart Eldridge. He wrote the following expository speech for

Eldridge that reflected selected details from the life of William

Waldorf Astor:

HOBART: I'm going to settle down permanently here in England—make my headquarters here. I can see my way clear to becoming an influence, a power, not only here but, from here, in America as well. In fact— . . . I've formed a connection with one of the w ealthiest men in England. . . . He's one of the most powerful newspaper p ropri­ etors in England — in the world. Before a week is out I shall be definitely associated with _ him in a newspaper venture of great importance.

Behrman updated and heightened Astor's conservatism by identifying

Eldridge as a Fascist in Rain From Heaven. He developed Eldridge's

negotiations with the wealthy Englishman, Lord Abercrombie, as a sub­

plot in the play. Eldridge's plan consists of establishing a Fascist

newspaper that will promulgate and support the existence of an Anglo-

American Youth League. He needs Lord Abercrombie's assistance in

launching the publication, and he enlists the aid of his politically

naive brother in his frantic attempt to ingratiate himself with

^^Michael Astor, Tribal Feeling (London: John Murray, 1963), p. 17.

^^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 1, pp. 19^+—95• 193

Abercrombie. The financier's self-professed Fascism and his unscrup­ ulous manipulation of Rand provide for the development of an ideological conflict between Eldridge and his liberal hostess, Lady Wyngate.

Behrman spent a seemingly inordinate amount of time developing his conception of the relationship between Eldridge and Lord Abercrombie.

Lord Abercrombie never appears in Rain From Heaven. Behrman recognized the disproportion between the amount of energy that he expended on a study of Lord Abercrombie and the character's re la tiv e unimportance in terms of the action of the play, but he concluded: "It amuses me to find out about and c a re fu lly delineate a character who never appears in the play.'"^1 On January 2k, 193^, he suggested the p o s s ib ilitie s of

"Rothermere, Beaverbrook or Mosley"®^ as prototypes for Abercrombie.

Approximately two weeks later he recorded a precis of an article that appeared in a Cuban newspaper:

Havana Telegram: Feb. 3 Lord Rothermere demands Fascism for England on the front page of his Daily Mai1, and urges readers to jo in Mosley's Fascist Blackshirts. . . . Lord Rothermere thinks Fascism will break the strangle hold which senile politicians have

so long maintained on public a f f a i r s . ° 3

Behrman subsequently id e n tifie d Eldridge as Mosley and associated

Abercrombie with Rothermere and Beaverbrook in his notes fo r the action of Rain From Heaven. Oswald Mosley was the leader of the B ritish Union of Fascists, whose membership was commonly known by the ep ith et "The

*^ RFH Notes, 6 February 193^, p* ^3*

82 Ib id ., p. 30.

® ^lbid., If February 193^, P- 39* 19*1

B lackshirts." Lord Rothermere was the wealthy proprietor of the conser­ vative newspaper The Dai1y Mai1. Lord Beaverbrook owned "Beaverbrook

Newspapers," a chain of publications that included the conservative

Evening Standard. Behrman noted that Abercrombie's eventual renunciation of his partnership with Hobart Eldridge would "p ara llel Lord Rothermere 84 giving up Mosley." From his study of Lord Beaverbrook, Behrman derived descriptive material that he subsequently transformed into dia­

logue for his play. On February 6, 193*1, he transcribed the following description of the Russian Commissar Radek from R. Bruce Lockhart's book, B ritish Agent:

Of his intellectual brilliance there was no doubt. . . . He was a Puck full of malice and with a delicious sense of humour. He was the Bolshevick Lord Beaverbrook.

Behrman used Lockhart's depiction of Radek as the direct source for two sections of dramatic exposition that delineated the character of Lord

Abercrombie:

LAEL: 1 am beginning to see why you and Lord Abercrombie hit it off. He's a Puck. HOBART: I beg your pardon. LAEL: He's a Puck— and so are you— a malevolent Puck.

HOBART: He's a very clever man, is n 't he, Lady Wyngate? LAEL: Yes, he's clever.1 HOBART: Knows a hell of a lot, doesn't he? That little smile o f his — those l i t t l e wrinkled eyes.

The fiv e remaining characterizations in Rain From Heaven were

relatively small roles. No clear prototypes were indicated in Behrman's

8**|bid., 22 July 193*+, p. 4.

®**R. Bruce Lockhart, B ritish Agent (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1933), P- 252. Cited in RFH Notes, p. 43.

Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 1 p. 218; act 3, p. 266. notes for his delineations of Hobart Eldridge's daughter Joan and his w ife , Phoebe Eldridge, whom Behrman introduced as a former paramour of

Hugo Wiliens. The three additional male characters in the play included

"Sascha Barashaev," Joan Eldridge's Jewish boyfriend: "Clendon W yatt," a v is itin g Rhodes Scholar; and Nikolai Jurin, a Russian refugee whom

Lady Wyngate hired as her language instructor.

Behrman originally intended to base his characterization of Joan's boyfriend, Sascha Barashaev, on the Russian-American violinist Jascha

Heifetz. He noted: "She loves a violinist. He's all technique and no feeling. You'd think he'd be all feeling and no techni que,-J.N.

Behrman's note reflected the consensus of opinion among some music c r itic s who assessed H eifetz as an "impersonal, in tellectu al a r t i s t — a cold, almost mechanical player.A few weeks a fte r he suggested that

Barashaev might be a v io lin is t, Behrman doubted his in itia l choice of a profession for the character: "Not quite sure about violinist—

pianist—what other kinds of Jews are there— (this is amusing)— cello-

playing, b a n k e r.H e finally decided to "make him a pianist—M.

L e v itzk i— fu ll of phony music and religion.Behrman did not elabor­

ate on his somewhat unflattering appraisal of the Russian-American

p ian ist Mischa L e vitzki, but his characterization of Sascha Barashaev

^ RFH Notes, 1 January 1934, p. 1.

88Helena Huntington Smith, "Jascha H e ife tz," The New Yorker, 25 February 1928, p. 25.

89RFH Notes, 21 January 1934, p. 27-

9 ° lb id ., 21 January 1934, p. 27. 196 supplemented the negative commentary in his notes. Behrman contrasted

Hugo W iliens' open profession of his "speck" of Jewish blood with

Barashaev's renunciation of his Jewish heritage. The musician's decision

to deny his religion was presented as an expedient choice: the revela­

tion of his origins might thwart his professional career.91 Behrman

further articulated Barashaev's negative traits in a passage of dialogue

that he wrote for Hugo Wiliens:

HUGO: Like so many insecure people, Sascha is a snob. . . . He is cunning and unscrupulous and greedy exquisite artist, a superb artist.^

The second a r t is t thatBehrman included among the guests at Lady

Wyngate's home was a character based on the American singer and actor

Paul Robeson. On January k, 193^, he noted: "Introduce negro— in tro ­ duce Paul R o b e s o n . T h r e e weeks la te r he compared the two musicians

in Rain From Heaven: "Robeson great artist and a loveable quality as a human being and M. L.— an ungenerous boy with a great t a l e n t . " ^

Behrman was intrigued by the dramatic potential of Robeson's character­

ization. He noted the p o s s ib ility of including Wyatt's "singing a

s p iritu a l o f f - s t a g e . "95 He subsequently opened the second act with

Clendon Wyatt's on-stage rendition of a s p ir it u a l.96 Behrman's stage

description of Wyatt as "an a ttra c tiv e young Southern American who won

^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 3, P- 261.

1 bid., p. 263.

93RFH Notes, p. l*t.

9^ |b id ., 25 January 193^, P« 29.

95Ibid., 21 January 193*f, p. 28.

^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 2, sc. 1, p. 220. 197 a Rhodes Scholarship for making a spectacular dash on the football f ie ld " 9 7 resembled Robeson's background as a star of the football team at Rutgers University, where he was also the valedictorian of his graduating class in 1919-^ Behrman originally planned to dramatize the rationale for Robeson's emigration to England and conversion to

Socialism in his characterization of Clendon Wyatt. He personally believed that his use of Robeson was effective: "he's one of the disenfranchized who is taken into her home— . . . I think this idea of having a negro is g reat."99 His a rtis tic advisors did not share his enthusiasm. In June, 193*+, Elizabeth Bibesco responded to Behrman's request for constructive criticism of Ra i n From Heaven. Her correspon­ dence included the remark: "The Negro is superfluous and misplaces the emphasis."^® Behrman subsequently eliminated the details of Wyatt's race, Socialism and emigration: the revision effectively obscured the character's strong resemblance to Robeson.

Behrman wrote only one note on the model for the comparatively small role of Nikolai Jurin, Lady Wyngate's language instructor: "She's studying Russian with this charming fellow— like the Hovey-kids'

teacher—what was his name— Jurin." ^ 1 Behrman's allusion to the

"Hovey kids" was a reference to Serge and Tamara Hovey, who were the

97|b id.

^Edwin P. Hoyt, Paul Robeson (New York: World, 1967), PP- 26-28.

99RFH Notes, 8 January 193*+, p. 16; 21 January 193*+, p. 28.

^^Elizabeth Bibesco to S. N. Behrman, 9 June 193*+, S. N. Behrman Papers.

101RFH Notes, 11 January 193*+, p. 19- 198 children of Sonya Levien and Carl Hovey. Sonya Levien was Behrman's collaborator on several filmscripts for the Twentieth Century-Fox and

1 n o Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios in Hollywood.

Behrman concluded his search for prototypes with the self-directed question: "Any room for Burton in this play?" He answered himself:

"Make Burton Mrs. Dingle, o f course."103 "Mrs. Dingle" was Lady Wyn- gate's maid in Rain From Heaven. "Dame" N ellie Burton was Siegfried

Sassoon's maid at his home on Half Moon Street in London. Behrman met

"Dame N ellie " when he v is ite d Sassoon in 1926. He recalled his f ir s t

impression of Miss Burton in his autobiography:

Siegfried had not prepared me fo r The Presence which greeted me. Dame Nellie was short, almost spherical, with a large expanse of face and innumerable chins. She had prominent blue eyes, an encompassing smile, and an expression of benev­ olent innocence, She was highly decorated, spangles and ornaments of odd shapes were pinned to her bodice. She had a mass of gray-brown hair piled up in a minaret; semi­ precious pale lights gleamed from the minaret too. It was a congeries of ornaments and unclassifiable styles, but somehow I was soon aware that Miss Burton securely dominated her effects so that she had a style of her own. There was a quickening reassurance in her directness; you-felt that she was a force of nature, that nothing could swerve her from a decision or a loyalty. She became a fix tu re in my l i f e at that very moment and remained so forever.

On January 22, 193^, Behrman began writing the first draft of

Rain From Heaven. His notes for the previous day indicate that he

experienced some last-minute misgivings about setting the action of

the play in England. As an American author, he doubted his a b ility to

102 Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 139-

103RFH Notes, 22 January 193^, p. 28.

^^Behrman, People In A D iary, pp. 28-29. 199

render a credible depiction of British society. Behrman weighed his dilemma against the evidence of Robert Emmet Sherwood's success with

Reunion In Vienna in 1931 and concluded: "England wonderful and Margot

idea wonderful— . . . If RES can set a play in Vienna, I can in

England."^5 y^g notation for "Setting" on the first page of his manu­ s c rip t was "The Wharf: England." "The Wharf" was the name of Margot

Asquith's country house on the banks of the Thames River in Sutton

Courtenay, Berkshire.^^

The f ir s t version of Rain From Heaven opens with an expository

scene between Joan and Mrs. Dingle. They discuss the impending a rriv a l of Joan's father, Hobart Eldridge, and her uncle, Rand Eldridge, who was recently returned from an expedition to the South Pole. Rand's

reunion with Lady Wyngate is motivated by personal considerations: he

intends to ask her to marry him. Hobart's mission is of a professional

nature. His personal objective is to convince Rand to publicly support

his proposal for a London-based Fascist newspaper and Anglo-American

Youth League. The success of Hobart's project depends on his negotia­

tions with Lord Abercrombie, the wealthy British proprietor of a London

newspaper. Hobart believes that he must dissuade Rand from marrying

Lady Wyngate because her notorious liberalism poses a dual threat to

his planned exploitation of Rand and his relationship with the conser­

vative Lord Abercrombie. When Rand and Hobart arrive, Joan informs

105RFH Notes, p. 27.

106ASquith, More Or Less About Myself, p. 2kS- them that Lady Wyngate has gone to London to meet a German refugee who has accepted their hostess' offer of asylum. Hobart tells Joan that her mother Phoebe w ill be jo in in g them la te r, and Joan exits at her father's request to reserve a room for her parents at a nearby inn.

Hobart uses his time alone with Rand to outline Lady Wyngate's negative traits. He cites her reputed eccentricity, her Bohemian life style and her Bolshevist political leanings as evidence of her incompatibility with Rand. Rand assures his brother that Lady Wyngate's politics have no influence on his considerable affection for her. Hobart's further objections are interrupted by the a rriv a l of Lady Wyngate. She greets

Rand affectionately and Rand introduces her to Hobart. Lady Wyngate

inquires about Mrs. Eldridge, and she invites Hobart and Phoebe to dine with her that evening. Hobart accepts the invitation. Joan returns with Hugo Willens and her boyfriend, the Russian p ia n is t, Sascha

Barashaev. Willens recalls that he reviewed Sascha's debut in B erlin, and the two men exchange reminiscences of the concert as Lady Wyngate pours tea for her guests. After Willens describes his persecution by

the Nazis and reflects on the nature of his current e x ile , Hobart excuses himself from the discussion and leaves for his rendezvous with his w ife. Hugo, Sascha and Joan e x it to the music room. Rand and Lady

Wyngate then embrace, and Rand proposes marriage. Lady Wyngate hesi­

tates to accept Rand's o ffe r because although she trusts in th e ir mutual affection, she doubts that they are intellectually or politically

compatible. Rand b e little s her arguments and proposes again, but Lady

Wyngate changes the subject of th e ir conversation. She asks Rand about

his recent expedition, and Rand describes his journey as the apotheosis 201 of his childhood dreams of adventure. Hobart then returns with Phoebe, and Joan re-enters with Hugo Willens. Hobart is surprised by his wife's disclosure that she and Hugo are old friends. Phoebe mentions that she met Hugo years ago through th e ir mutual social acquaintances in Munich.

Hugo, Rand and Lady Wyngate e x it to listen to Sascha's "concert" in the music room. Hobart then berates Joan for having become involved with a

Russian. Joan replies that Hobart has no authority over her since he is only her stepfather. Hobart concedes the biological validity of Joan's argument, but he reminds her that he is the only father that she has ever

known. Phoebe begs Hobart to re fra in from discussing the d etails of

Joan's illegitimate birth. Aware of her stepfather's anti-Semitism,

Joan taunts Hobart with her favorable impression of Hugo Willens.

Phoebe defends Joan's opinion of Willens, and Hobart exits. Joan is

surprised at her mother's uncharacteristic display of defiance, and

she questions Phoebe about her motivation for contradicting Hobart's ethnic creed. Phoebe attributes her defense of Hugo to their past

friendship. Joan then interrogates Phoebe about the specific nature of

her relationship with Willens, but Phoebe evades Joan's inquiries and

e x its . Joan suspects that Hugo is her natural father, and the curtain

fa lls on her line: "Hugo, Hugo, Hugo— you bad, bad man."

The action of Act Two transpires four days later. The curtain

rises on Clendon Wyatt's rendition of a spiritual while Sascha accom­

panies him on the piano. Nikolai Jurin remarks that Russian fo lk songs

and negro spirituals display a common air of resignation. Lady Wyngate

enters with Hugo and asserts that she will not allow the word "resigna­

tion" to be spoken in her house. She marshals her guests outside and advises them to sublimate their melancholy in a game of tennis. Joan stops Hugo before he can exit. They briefly discuss Sascha's music, but Joan directs their conversation to the subject of her hostile rela­ tionship with her father. Willens admits that Eldridge appears to be a difficult man, and Joan discloses that Hobart is not her natural father.

She anticipates a gimmer of recognition from Hugo, but Phoebe's entrance prevents Joan's further interrogation of Hugo. Joan exits, and Phoebe and Hugo discuss their past love affair. Phoebe berates Hugo for having abandoned her. She recalls his claim that he left her for a "titled

Englishwoman," and she expresses her suspicion that Lady Wyngate was

"the other woman." Hugo assures Phoebe that he did not leave her for

Lady Wyngate, but Phoebe refuses to accept his explanation. She insists that she can no longer accept the hospitality of her rival for Hugo's affection. In order to prevent a scene, Hugo begins to make love to

Phoebe, and she is pacified by the evidence of his renewed interest in her. Lady Wyngate enters with Hobart, who has arrived to escort Rand to a meeting with Lord Abercrombie. Phoebe leaves to find Rand, and

Hugo, Hobart and Lady Wyngate discuss their differences of opinion concerning Eldridge's idea for establishing a Fascist Youth League.

Lady Wyngate claims that she w ill organize a Liberal Youth League to counteract the influence of the Fascists. Hugo withdraws from the discussion and exits. Lady Wyngate chastises Hobart for taking advan­ tage of Rand's political naivete, and she warns Eldridge that she has the power to dissuade Rand from supporting Abercrombie. Hobart asks

Lady Wyngate if she plans to stop Rand from meeting with Abercrombie, but Lady Wyngate grants Hobart her permission to take Rand to London. Rand enters, and he asks Hobart to leave him alone w ith Lady Wyngate.

Rand apologizes for his brother's lack of social grace. He says that he w ill not go to London i f she objects to the tr ip . Lady Wyngate is tempted to thwart Hobart's plan, but she advises Rand to join his brother

She e lic its Rand's assurance that he w ill withold his endorsement of

Abercrombie until they can discuss the matter more thoroughly. Rand exits and Hugo enters. Lady Wyngate apologizes for interrupting his

tete-a-t£te with Phoebe, but Hugo insists that her entrance was a godsend. He confesses that he and Phoebe were lovers, but he assures his hostess that they were never in love. Willens discloses that he

broke o ff with Phoebe by lying to her about a love a f f a ir with a f i c ­

tional "titled Englishwoman." He claims that he actually left Phoebe

because he was bored by her. Willens then te lls Lady Wyngate that

Phoebe has identified her as mythical "titled Englishwoman." He apolo­ gizes for having unwittingly involved her in a scandal. Lady Wyngate is

amused at her new role as "the other woman." She convinces Hugo that

she has endured worse c ritic is m , and she attrib u te s her survival to the

loyalty of her close friends. Willens generalizes about the essential

relativity of all friendship, and he relates the tragic end of his

friendship with the German playwright Lehrmann. Lady Wyngate is moved

by W illens' account of his betrayal by Lehrmann. Hugo then announces

his plan to emigrate to America, but Lady Wyngate advises him to stay

with her until he can gain some perspective on his position as an exile.

Hugo replies that he has tired of adapting himself to Phoebe, and Lady

Wyngate spontaneously suggests that he should adapt himself to her.

Willens interprets her remark as a proposition, and Lady Wyngate withdraws the offer, but she professes her deep affection for Hugo and

claims that she feels in him "a special friend." Hugo says that if he

decides to stay with her, he will attempt to win her away from Rand.

Lady Wyngate does not discourage Willens1 attentions. Hugo impulsively

moves toward Lady Wyngate as Phoebe enters. She sees Hugo standing near

her rival, and she runs upstairs screaming "Liar! Liar! Liar!" Lady

Wyngate asks Hugo to explain Phoebe's outburst, and Hugo replies that

he assured Phoebe that he was not interested in any " title d Englishwoman."

The curtain fa lls on his reflectio n : "That was twenty minutes ago— and

I d id n 't know. . .

The second scene of Act Two takes place later that evening. Nikolai

Jurin and Clendon Wyatt are discovered playing cards. They speculate

about the reason for the Eldridge brothers' tr ip to London and discuss

Lady Wyngate's uncharacteristically quiet behavior at dinner. Lady

Wyngate has taken her guests to a movie in the village, and Nikolai

wonders whether Rand has returned in time to jo in them there. Hugo and

Phoebe enter. Hugo decided to leave the film early, and Phoebe volun­

teered to accompany him back to the house. Jurin and Wyatt e x it, and

Hugo and Phoebe argue about Hugo's relationship with Lady Wyngate.

Joan enters with Hobart, who reports that he restored Rand to Lady

Wyngate's company and rescued Joan from an argument with Sascha. Hugo

invites Joan to accompany him on a s tro ll through the garden. The

Eldridges argue about their marital relationship. Phoebe accuses

Hobart of excluding her from his l if e , and Hobart admits that he never

envisioned Phoebe as his helpmate. Phoebe blurts out that she could

help him destroy Rand's relationship with Lady Wyngate, and Hobart demands further d e ta ils . Before Phoebe can respond, Hobart hears a car in the driveway. He te lls Phoebe to go upstairs and promises to jo in her there momentarily. Lady Wyngate enters with Rand, and Hobart excuses himself to jo in Phoebe. Rand presses Lady Wyngate to accept his proposal, but she cites his cooperation with Lord Abercrombie as evidence of th eir fundamental incom patibility. She compares Rand's naivete to her "Heartbreak House" existence before her first marriage.

Rand asserts that he is politically indifferent. He offers to join the liberals as a manifestation of his love for her. Jurin and Hugo enter, and Hobart returns from his meeting with Phoebe. Lady Wyngate cheer­ fully announces Rand's political conversion, but Hobart disrupts her enthusiasm with his accusation that Lady Wyngate is having an affair with Hugo. Hugo and Lady Wyngate exchange glances that communicate th e ir comprehension of Phoebe's revenge, and Rand turns on Hugo, screaming "You d irty Jew." Hobart cites Hugo's loose m orality as a justification for Hitler's treatment of the Jews, and Lady Wyngate reacts with horror at the Eldridges' behavior. Hugo assures his hostess that their epithets make him "feel at home." Lady Wyngate demonstrates her ideology (and closes the act) by kissing Hugo in the presence of

Hobart and Rand.

Act Three takes place the following morning. Joan and Sascha are discovered arguing about their relationship. Sascha's affection for

Joan has cooled since she revealed her suspicion that Hugo was her

father. Sascha claims that Joan's pride in her inherited speck of

Jewish blood is absurd. Joan accuses Sascha of being ashamed of his

Jewish heritage. Sascha informs Joan that he has accepted a wealthy duchess' invitation to spend the following weekend at her country home.

Joan correctly construes Sascha's announcement as his signal for the end of their a f f a ir . Sascha exits and Hugo enters. Joan te lls Hugo that she suspects he is her father, and Hugo admits the likelihood of her assumption. Joan says that she would be proud to be Hugo's daughter.

Hugo reciprocates Joan's affection. Lady Wyngate enters and Joan exits.

Hugo is uncomfortable in the presence of Lady Wyngate. She asks him why he le ft her a fte r th e ir previous night of lovemaking. Hugo confesses that he had second thoughts about the quality of her emotions— he had hoped for "love without philanthropy." Lady Wyngate retaliates by arguing that she could just as easily interpret his motivation for

loving her as his revenge against Rand. They succeed in diminishing each other's apprehension and express the resolution of their disagree­ ment with an embrace. Hobart enters, and he immediately mixes a drink for himself. It is apparent that he has been drinking all night. When

Lady Wyngate suggests that Eldridge has consumed enough whiskey, Hobart

replies that he must celebrate Phoebe's announcement that Hugo is Joan's

father. He insists that the news of Hugo's paternity did not upset

him. He reveals the true source of his misery: Lord Abercrombie has

reneged on his commitment to support an Anglo-American Youth League.

Hobart eventually breaks down as he predicts his financial ruin at the

hands of the Communists. Rand and Sascha enter and witness the end of

Hobart's outburst. Hobart grabs a bottle of whiskey and exits. Hugo

exits with Sascha, who has decided to move immediately into the home

of his wealthy duchess. Rand remains behind. He apologizes to Lady

Wyngate for his condemnation of Hugo. He confesses that he was unaware 207 of his capacity for hatred and bigotry. Lady Wyngate apologizes for having been the instrument of Rand's loss of innocence. She assures him that his insight into the nature of his bigotry demonstrates his essential goodness. Rand disagrees with her. He announces his inten­ tion to return to America and exits. Hugo returns, and he and Lady

Wyngate discuss their future together. Lady Wyngate's prediction of th e ir happiness is v itia te d by Hugo's disclosure that he has decided to return to Germany. He claims that he would suffer the complete Joss of his self-respect i f he consented to while away the term of his e x ile in the pleasant surroundings of her country home. Lady Wyngate argues that

Hugo's decision is tantamount to suicide, but Hugo insists that returning to Germany is the only course of action that is le f t for him. They embrace, and Hugo e x its . The curtain fa lls on Lady Wyngate's gaze

"into some vision of her own."'®^

Behrman completed the f i r s t d ra ft of Rain From Heaven on May 13,

1934. He wrote the second and third acts of the play during a month­ long v is it to London, where he renewed his acquaintances with three of the models for characterizations in Rain From Heaven; Margot Asquith,

Elizabeth Bibesco, and "Dame" Nellie Burton. Behrman mailed a type­ scrip t of his play to Harold Freedman, and he returned to America on

the S. S. Aquitania at the end of May.

On June 14, 1934, Behrman reviewed Freedman's suggestions for

revisions and began work on the second d ra ft of the play. Freedman's

major criticism of the original version was allied with his confusion

^ ^ RFH Manuscript # 1 , 22 January 1934 - 13 May 1934. about "the psychological reason for Lady Wyngate's point of view— we

i nR need to see her emotional orientation clearly— from the beginning."

Behrman consequently moved Lady Wyngate's description of her "Heartbreak

House" existence before her first marriage from the second scene of Act

Two to her opening scene with Rand in Act One.

Behrman also s o lic ite d suggestions for revisions from May Freedman,

Elizabeth Bibesco, and Guthrie McClintic. Mrs. Freedman admired the strength of the racial theme in the play, but she criticized the love scenes as "weak." She asked Behrman: " Does Lady Wyngate re a lly love

Rand from the beginning? It doesn't seem to be a vital thing in her l i f e . " She added: "As a Jew, I iden tify with Hugo, but I was not involved in the love story."'^9 Elizabeth Bibesco's criticisms par­ a lle le d May Freedman's objections. Princess Bibesco noted that she

"would like more concentration on Hugo. Hugo is the emotional center."^

Her minor criticism s of the script included her assessment of Behrman's choice of "Vi" as the nickname for Lady V iolet Wyngate as "unfortunate:"

'V i' sounds like a chorus g i r l . " ^ She also regarded the dramatic 1 1 O issue of "Joan's paternity" as superfluous. ' 1 Guthrie McClintic

^ ^ RFH Notes, "Harold Freedman Memo," 21 May 193^.

^ ^ I b i d . , "May Freedman Memo," 21 May 193^.

110Le tte r , Elizabeth Bibesco to S. N. Behrman, 9 June 193^-.

H I Ibid., Behrman experimented with alternatives for Lady Wyngate's first name throughout the rewriting period. The quotations from Lady Wyngate's dialogue in this chapter reflect his final choice: Lady "Lael" Wyngate. 209 reinforced Elizabeth Bibesco's criticism of the issue Joan's illeg iti­ mate birth. He suggested the elimination of the Hugo-Joan subplot.^3

Behrman's first series of revisions centered on his advisors' criticisms of the romantic theme in the play: he advised himself to

"focus the love story.His scrutiny of the opening scene between

Rand and Lady Wyngate yielded two changes in th e ir f ir s t-a c t dialogue.

Behrman noted that the "circumstances of their separation in New York

must be dramatized around the love-nexus . " ^ 5 He consequently reworked

the dramatic exposition of Lady Wyngate's first encounter with Rand in

New York City and added dialogue that indicated Lady Wyngate's ambiva­

lent emotional orien tatio n from the outset of her relationship with

Rand. The new dialogue opened th e ir f i r s t scene together:

RAND: (From a close embrace) Why did you run away from me? LAEL: Had to. RAND: It was hateful of you. . . . LAEL: It was. But I had to. . . . RAND: You won't again. LAEL: I will again. I'll have to again. RAND: Why? Why? LAEL: If you give me a chance I ' l l te il you. . . . RAND: My dearest.' I'll never let you go again—never let you go agai n.'

On July 26, 193^, Behrman reminded himself to review an "idea of yester­

day—kept your photograph, etc."^7 He developed the notion of

^ RFH Notes, 17 June 193^, P- 1.

^ I b i d . , 6 August 193^, p. 12.

15Ib id ., 18 July 193^, p. 3-

^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 1, pp. 208-09-

^RFH Notes, p. 6. 210 heightening the degree of Rand's stated affection for Lady Wyngate by adding the d etail that Eldridge kept a photograph of her near him on his expedition to the South Pole. The following section of dialogue was inserted into th e ir f i r s t scene:

RAND: I kept your photograph in my cabin on the Odyssey. LAEL: Did I give you a photograph? RAND: I cut it out of the rotogravure section in a New York newspaper. LAEL: Did I behold those awful vastnesses? Did I share those lonely v ig iIs ? RAND: We both did. MS

The most s ig n ific a n t change that Behrman effected in his treatment of the relationship between Hugo and Lady Wyngate was his revision of the closing scene of the play. The original d ra ft of Rain From Heaven ended with Lady Wyngate's solitary gaze "into some vision of her own."

On August 16, 193^, Behrman noted: "Supposing a fte r the fin al Hugo scene Rand returns." ^ 9 He incorporated Rand's return and implied Lady

Wyngate's intention to follow Hugo in a new curtain scene for the third a c t :

(Hugo turns and goes out. Lael watches him until he has le ft the room. Rand enters from the garden.) RAND: Lael.' (Lael doesn't face him. She is looking away into some vision of her own.) Joan's just told me, Lael— that you never saw Willens until you met him in London. I can't te ll you how I fe e l— how humil­ ia te d --If there was any way I could make you see how deeply ashamed I am--you'd--you'd . . . LAEL: Hugo's leaving. I'm going up to London.' (She runs ou t.)

^^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 1, p. 2.

H 9 RFH Notes, p. 2k. 211

RAND: (He starts instinctively to follow her, stops. In despair.) Lael — Lael— .'120 THE CURTAIN FALLS

Behrman compromised in his accommodation of Bibesco and M cClintic's

criticism regarding the elimination of the issue of Joan's paternity.

He deleted the references to Joan's illegitimacy from the Hobart-Phoebe-

Joan scene that originally closed the first act. The question of Joan's

paternity was consequently introduced for the f i r s t time in her scene with Hobart in Act Two. When Freedman read the second version of Rai n

From Heaven in August, he registered his reaction to Behrman's revision:

121 "The Phoebe and paternity motives have been diminished too much."

Behrman apparently decided to maintain his tru st in the judgement of

Bibesco and McClintic. The final version of the second draft indicates

that Behrman did not reinstate the first-act exposition of Joan's

i 1legi timate bi rth.

Freedman submitted the second version of Rain From Heaven to the

Theatre Guild at the end of August, 193^. The Guild's Board of Managers

voted to purchase the script and scheduled a meeting for the f i f t h of

September to discuss casting and revisions.

Although "the Guild and Behrman very much wanted Ina Claire to be

their 'lady Wyngate'," 122 they discovered that she was unavailable for

Rain From Heaven. She had been contracted by G ilb e rt M ille r to appear

1201 b id ., "Rewrite: Act I I I , " 22 August 193^.

121 Ib id ., "Harold Freedman Memo," 7 August 193^*

^^Roy S. Waldau, Vintage Years of the Theatre Guild: 1928-1938 (Cleveland, Ohio: Case Western Reserve Press, 1972), p. 196". 212 in Sidney Howard's Ode To L ib e rty , which was slated to open in New York on December 21, 1934, only three days before the scheduled premiere of

Rain From Heaven. The Guild hired Jane Cowl to play the role of Lady

Wyngate, and John H alliday was cast as Hugo W ille n s .^ ^

The Guild's suggestions for revisions reinforced some of the e a rlie r criticism s that were offered by the Freedmans, Elizabeth Bibesco, and Guthrie McClintic. Although Philip Moeller and Lee Simonson were designated as the o ff ic ia l producers of Rain From Heaven, Behrman supplemented th e ir authorized c ritic is m with suggestions from Harold

Freedman, Theresa Helburn, and Ina C laire. At the Guild meeting on

September 5, 1934, a controversy ensued over the nature of the re la tio n ­ ship between Hugo Willens and Lady Wyngate. Moeller believed that

Hugo's departure at the end of the play was inconsistent with Behrman's delineation of the character's genuine love for Lady Wyngate. In short, he was confused about Hugo's motivation for leaving the woman he loved and returning to face almost certain death in Germany. Lee Simonson provided Behrman with a transcript of the meeting that included a report of the consensus of opinion regarding the end of the play:

From Lee Simonson— (in response to P hilip's objection that he d id n 't see why the man goes away at the end) . . . It resolved to this: that the end of the play was to be a c o n flic t between the lib eral and the revolutionary, that Hugo through his Jewishness was to go out on a crusade not for Judaism— on this point Lee was very emphatic--but for

^^Other players included: Hancey Castle as Joan Eldridge; Ben Smith as Rand Eldridge; Thurston Hall as Hobart Eldridge; Marshall Grant as Sascha Barashaev; Lily Cahill as Phoebe Eldridge; Statts Cottsworth as Clendon Wyatt; Jose Ruben as Nikolai Jurin; and Alice Belmore-CIiffe as Mrs. Dingle. 213

for humanity and that in this pursuit she could not follow him— . . . The play at the end should be the im possibility of th e ir joining in spite of the immense regions of sympathy between them. . . . They a ll f e lt that her merely saying 'I am going to London1 at the end was very weak and that the real issue was blurred and avoided. The way it was left at the Guild meeting was that she cannot go with him.^^

Behrman accommodated the Guild's c ritic is m by reducing the sexual a ttra c tio n between Hugo and Lady Wyngate and emphasizing Hugo's disenchantment with liberalism. Since Moeller's objection was based on his observation that Hugo would not leave a woman he passionately loved,

Behrman decided that there would be "no kiss and no contact"^-* between

Hugo and Lady Wyngate a fte r the Eldridge's bigoted outbursts in Act Two.

He substituted Lady Wyngate's sensational kiss with a gracious smile, and he cut the sections of dialogue in Act Three that alluded to th eir previous night of love making. Behrman advised himself to "make the point that Hugo sees in Hobart panic and fear and suspicion— he must eliminate them from the world."I2** prepared to write "one Hell of a love scene for the end—what I must show is a man converted from a

cultivated lib eral who might have been an ideal companion for her into a man from whom she is separated by a great chasm of forces,,"^2?

Behrman consequently emphasized Hugo's defection from the lib eral p h il­

osophy that he had shared with Lady Wyngate. The new dialogue focussed

on Hugo's conversion to a revolutionary stance:

^ ^RFH Notes, "Guild Meeting," 5 September 193*1.

^ - ’ Ib id ., "Rewrite Notes," 18 September 193**, p« 5-

126|bid., 18 September 193**, p. 6.

^ ^ Ib id ., 21 September 193**, pp. 9-10. 214

HUGO: I see now that there is only one thing le ft: To destroy the inhuman— to discover humanity. . . . 1 don't want to be comforted. I don't want to be soothed. . . . I see now that goodness is not enough, that liberalism is not enough. I'm sick of evasions. They've done us in. Civilization, charity, progress, tolerance—all the catchwords. I'm sick of them. We'll have to redefine our terms.

Behrman noted Freedman's suggestion for Lady Wyngate's rebuttal of

Wiliens's revolutionary philosophy: "She is England—she believes in

England— she doesn't believe in what he may fin d — she knows England'll work it out in her own way."^^ Behrman subsequently added the follow­

ing argument between Hugo and Lady Wyngate:

LAEL: Can't you try to see it as I see it? You see, I believe in England. I believe in gradualness. I believe in muddling through. I believe— a poor foolish illu s io n , I suppose— I believe that in the main people are reasonable and corrigible and sweet— fragments of God. HUGO: That isn't a belief. It's a mirage. A self-hypnosis. A w is h -fu lfi1lment. LAEL: I allow for that. And is it your dream that the world, overnight, can be scrubbed clean of injustice and le ft glowing with humanity? ^

Behrman completed his dramatization of Hugo's p o litic a l metamor­

phosis, and he turned his attention to rewriting the dialogue at the end of the play. In the original version, Hugo le f t , and Lady Wyngate

remained alone on stage. In the second d ra ft Behrman featured Rand's

return. Lady Wyngate exited, and Rand was le f t alone as the curtain

128 Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 3, pp. 271-72.

^ ^ RFH Motes, 9 September 1934, p. 1.

^^Behrman, Rain From Heaven, act 3, pp. 271-72 215

f e l l . Behrman attempted to amalgamate the endings of both scripts.

Freedman s o lic ite d the advice of th e ir would-be Wyngate, Ina C laire, and Miss Claire suggested via Freedman the "possibility of revealing at

the end Rand and Lady Wyngate both emotionally stranded--both of them consoling each other in a way."^' Miss Claire's suggestion provided

Behrman with the catalyst for the composition of a new closing scene

between Rand and Lady Wyngate. The new dialogue was inserted a fte r

Hugo's departure and Rand's return:

(There is the sound of a motor car leaving in the d ri veway) LAEL: Hugo's gone. RAND: I know now, Lael— whether he goes or stays— there's an awful fence in my mind and in my s p ir it , and you're on the other side, and no matter what I do I'll never be able to break through to you--never. LAEL: We're a ll shut in behind our l i t t l e fences, Rand— THE CURTAIN F A L L S 1 32

Notwithstanding Behrman's considerable revision of the final scene

between Hugo and Lady Wyngate, P hilip Moeller reverted to his in itia l

b e lie f that Hugo should not return to Germany at the end of the play.

Behrman was determined in his conviction that Willens's departure was

the correct course of action, but he culled his notes on the final

scene in an e ffo r t to find some additional material that might satisfy

Moeller's demand for a more convincing motivation for Hugo's decision

to leave. Jane Cowl entered the fray by suggesting some alternative

reasons for the lovers' separation at the end of the play. Her notes

on Lady Wyngate demonstrate an almost incredible lack of comprehension

^ RFH Notes, 16 September 193^, p. 3-

^B ehrm an, Rain From Heaven, act 3, p* 273* 216 regarding the nature of her role: "(l) She will not go with him because he's a Jew; (2) She's another Phoebe to h im ."^ ^ Behrman did not act on Miss Cowl's suggestions. Moeller remained d is s a tis fie d with the ending through the rehearsal period, and he pressured Behrman to revise the final scene. Anticipating Moeller's demand for a rewrite, Freedman advised his client to exercise his contractual authority over the script.

He sent the following telegram to Behrman on the occasion of Rain From

Heaven's debut in Boston:

DO NOT GIVE IN TO PRESSURE TO REWRITE LAST SCENE— KNOWING YOUR SUSCEPTIBILITY TO PRESSURE ABSOLUTELY INSIST YOU SAY THAT YOU PUT IN ANY SCENES RELUCTANTLY AND ABSOLUTELY RESERVE THE RIGHT TO INSIST ON REPLACING PRESENT SCENES AT ANY TIME TO HAVE IT PLAYED SMOOTHLY IN NEW YORK ^

Behrman did not yield to Moeller's demands. The final version of Rain

From Heaven features Willens's departure for Germany.

The Guild's second major request for revisions involved the issue of Joan Eldridge's paternity. Theresa Helburn advised that there should be "no illegitimate daughter. It would be much better if she is really

Hobart's child."^5 Behrman had been considering the elimination of the Joan-Hugo subplot for some time. On September 22 he instructed himself to develop "a new line on Joan— not Hugo's daughter . " ^ 6 He subsequently eliminated Joan's scattered references to her illegitimacy and deleted her scenes with Hobart and Hugo in the second and third

^ ^ RFH Notes, 25 November 193^, p. 3-

^^Telegram, Harold Freedman to S. N. Behrman, 10 December 193^*

^ ^ RFH Notes, 26 September 193^-, p. 23.

’36|bid., p. 12. 217 acts. The removal of the issue of Joan's paternity decreased the necessity for Phoebe's appearance in Act One, and Behrman eventually

decided to "save Phoebe's coming in for the second a c t . "137 He rewrote the end of Act One to compensate for the loss of Phoebe's reunion with

W illens. In the fin a l version of Rain From Heaven, Hobart is aware of his wife's acquaintance with Willens when Lady Wyngate introduces the refugee to her guests in Act One. The act closes with Lady Wyngate's rescue of Rand from the Fascist rhetoric of his conservative brother.

She marshals Rand into the garden as the curtain fa lls .

Behrman reviewed his checklist of suggested revisions at the end of the rehearsal period for Rain From Heaven. On the strength of an earlier observation by Elizabeth Bibesco that it was "inconceivable that

Lord Abercrombie would disapprove of Lady Wyngate,"l^® Behrman altered the implied tone of their relationship. In the final version of Ra i n

From Heaven, Behrman indicated that the Conservative and Liberal publishers coexist in a congenial atmosphere of healthy disrespect.

Behrman also deleted the detail of Lady Wyngate's first-draft plan to establish a competitive Liberal Youth League, and he cut the dialogue

that communicated Rand's somewhat insincere conversion to liberalism .

Rain From Heaven opened to favorable reviews at the Plymouth

Theatre, in Boston on December 10, 1 9 3 ^ **^ Two weeks later Behrman's

137ib id ., 2k November 193^, P* 2.

^ ^ L e tte r, Elizabeth Bibesco to S. N. Behrman, 9 June 193^.

l^ A survey of c r itic a l opinion is included in John L. Nydegger, "A Critical Analysis of the Original Dramatizations of S. N. Behrman" (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Denver, 1969)- 218 play opened at the Guild Theatre in New York, where " i t ran longer than any Theatre Guild show that year, having ninety-nine performances."^®

Early in his notes for Rain From Heaven Behrman speculated: "This play may well be your climax and your swan-song, embracing everything up to now ."^ Behrman viewed his dramatic examination of tolerance as

the culmination of his literary preoccupation with humanitarian themes.

As an example of his dramatic technique, Behrman's Rain From Heaven did embrace "everything," i.e., every device that he employed for the composition of earlier plays. He dramatized prosaic material, developed

characters from life models and revised the script according to the

prescriptions of selected artistic collaborators. As evidenced by the

playwright's acknowledgment of Bernard Shaw's Heartbreak House, Rain

From Heaven also embraced Behrman's philosophy of " lite ra tu r e as

inspi ration.

lZf0Waldau, p. 196.

lZf]RFH Notes, 23 February 193*f, p. lh.

Behrman, "Literature As Inspiration" in Three Plays By S. N. Behrman (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 193*0, p. 2*tl . CHAPTER VI

END OF SUMMER

This is going to be my best, my most authoritative and successful play. Behrman, End of Summer Notebook, p. 81.

Behrman's f if t h play for the Theatre Guild, End of Summer was perhaps the best example of the a r t is t ic advantages of the collabor­ ative production process. In the original manuscript and two later versions of the play, End of Summer was a murder melodrama, complete with sensational touches of nymphomania, drug addiction, and Machia­ vellian instances of criminal negligence perpetrated by the character of

Dr. Rice. Its metamorphosis from a second-rate potboiler into a gentle comedy of manners was one that made the transformations of Behrman's e a r lie r plays pale by comparison.

The major creative stimuli for End of Summer were threefold. First,

Behrman had long wished to w rite what he called "A Cherry Orchard of

Capital ism"' that would focus on one American fam ily's false trust in the stored wealth of its industrial pioneers. Early in his 217-paged notebook for End of Summer Behrman wrote to him self, "A fter a l l , I've o carried this idea around with me in one form or another since Blue Hill."

End of Summer Notebook, 9 October 193^-, S. N. Behrman Papers, Wisconsin State H istorical Society, Madison, Wisconsin, p. 7- (Here­ a fte r cited as EOS Notebook. )

^EOS Notebook, 26 June 1935, P- 17*

219 220

Behrman's reference to Blue H ill, Maine, indicates that he had been thinking about a play based on The Cherry Orchard since July, 1928.

Behrman had w ritten the early drafts of The Second Man and Meteor at a lodge in Blue H ill, but in 1928 Daniel Asher made arrangement for his protege to move to what he considered a more suitable working environ-

•3 ment at a lodge in Vermont.

The second impetus for End of Summer was provided by a series of newspaper a rtic le s that Behrman clipped and file d in January, 1929. He found his American "Mme. Ranevskaya" in the person of Mrs. Margaret

Huntington Smith McCarthy, granddaughter of John Huntington, a Standard

Oil Company executive and one of the founders of the Cleveland Museum l± of Art. Mrs. McCarthy's fu ll name at the time of her death was Mrs.

Margaret Huntington Smith Gowen Forgan McCarthy, and the newsworthy item that brought her to Behrman's attention was a court battle over her considerable estate, estimated in one account at forty million dollars.

The bulk of Mrs. McCarthy's fortune, via provisions made by her under somewhat questionable circumstances in the last of her five wills, was le ft to her husband, Dr. John S. McCarthy of the Blythewood Sanitarium,

Greenwich, Connecticut. Dr. McCarthy had been treating the Huntington heiress for alcoholism prior to their marriage in 1926. Dr. McCarthy la te r became the model for Dr. Kenneth Rice in End of Summer.

■3 ^Donald Asher, The Eminent Yachtsman and the Whorehouse Piano Player (New York: Coward, McCann £• Geoghegan, 1973), p. 152.

^New York Times, 29 May 1926, p. 13-

^Ibid., 27 January 1929, p* 26. 221

The will was contested by Mrs. McCarthy's teen-aged daughter by a previous marriage, "Peggy" Huntington Gowen, who, under the terms of her mother's last testament, was to receive only $200,000. The early notes for End of Summer indicate that the play was to focus on the character of the daughter. From 1929 u n til 193^, Behrman's working title for the play was derived from Miss Gowen's initials, "P.H.G."?

Published testimony from hearings of the contest between Miss Gowen and Dr. McCarthy formed the basis for the plot of the f i r s t versions of

End of Summer. Miss Gowen's attorneys produced a number of witnesses in an attempt to prove that McCarthy's plan, from the outset of his marriage to their client's alcoholic mother, had been that of a Machia­ v e llia n fortune-hunter. On the second day of the t r i a l , McCarthy discussed the financial conditions of his marriage to the Huntington heiress:

He contributed but $5,000 toward their support during the two and a half years that they were married. He admitted that Mrs. Margaret Smith, Mrs. McCarthy's mother, gave them money from time to time toward th eir support, includ­ ing $75,000 in the Fall of 1926.

McCarthy's relationship with his mother-in-law was discussed in greater d e ta il on the third day of the tr ia l by Elizabeth Conroy, a nurse hired by McCarthy to look a fte r his wife and mother-in-law. Her damaging testimony was reported by the New York Times as follows:

6 1bi d.

^Marilyn Baxter speculates that the letters "P.H.G." were the in itia ls of Peggy Guggenheim and suggests that a figure lik e Peggy Guggenheim prompted Behrman to w rite End of Summer. "Modern Woman as Heroine in Representative Plays by S. N. Behrman." (Ph.D. d issertatio n , University of Wisconsin, 1973), pp. 30^-305. 222

The word 'kidnapping1 was used when Miss Conroy te s tifie d that a fte r Mrs. Smith had been brought East, Dr. McCarthy told the witness of plans to put the patient in a sani­ tarium under circumstances which amounted to 'kidnapping.1 'He told me,' said Miss Conroy, 'that Mrs. Smith wasn't capable of managing her a ffa ir s , so we were going to help her. ' The witness said Dr. McCarthy had explained how he would pretend Mrs. Smith was going to a family hotel in New York. 'He would take her th e re ,' the nurse continued, 'and a fte r she was in, he would have two nurses and she couldn't get o u t .'8

The court reporter added that Dr. McCarthy was unable to carry out the proposed plan over his mother-in-law's objections, but the newspaper account does include a further statement by Nurse Conroy that was intended to shed more unflattering light on Dr. McCarthy's cause:

The nurse said that she believed that Dr. McCarthy had picked out his mother-in-law's coffin three weeks before her death last J u n e . 9

Mrs. Smith died in June, 1928. Her estate passed to Mrs. McCarthy in

December, 1928, only two weeks before Mrs. McCarthy's death on January

11, 1929* The conditions for the passage of fortune from mother to daughter, as outlined by counsel for Miss Gowen, also seem to have been influenced by Dr. McCarthy. A fter Mrs. McCarthy inherited her mother's estate, George H. McCarthy, her brother-in-law, was appointed as her financial secretary at a salary of $300 a week. His f i r s t act was to sell several large blocks of stocks for an undisclosed amount of cash.^

Miss Gowen's attorneys then attempted to prove that Dr. McCarthy did

^ Ib id ., 2 February 1929, P* 9-

^Ibid.

bid. 223 nothing to cure his wife's alcoholism. It was further implied that

McCarthy encouraged his w ife's drinking, hoping that she would be in no condition to notice that he and his brother were busily usurping her mother's fortune for themselves. To this charge, McCarthy's retaliation was reported as follows:

Asked if his w ife were not under the influence of liquor when certain securities were turned over to her in Cleveland in December, 1928, Dr. McCarthy said she was wearing high heels at the time and insisted that she was perfectly normal.11

If the judge's suspicions concerning Dr. McCarthy's character were not aroused by the expository evidence offered by Miss Gowen's attorneys, they must have been piqued by. later accounts of the s im ila rly mysterious circumstances surrounding Mrs. McCarthy's death. Since the trial centered on Mrs. McCarthy's mental competence to decide the d is trib u tio n of her estate, the events of January 9, 1929, the day she signed the last of her five w ills , were of considerable in terest to both sides:

Walter X. Burnes, a lawyer in the o ffic e of Judge Tierney, was the f ir s t to te s tify concerning the w ill now on f i l e in the court. On the night of Jan. 9, two days before Mrs. McCarthy died, he went to her house to witness the w ill. Judge Tierney and George Danko, a Greenwich policeman, were also in Mrs. McCarthy's bedroom. . . . Judge Tierney showed the w ill to Mrs. McCarthy and asked her if i t was her w ill. She replied, 'Yes,' and then asked a nurse to bring her a magazine and an envelope. This was done, and she signed the will. . . . Just as they were about to leave, Judge Tierney had Mrs. McCarthy sign an assignment of $200,000 of stock over to Dr. McCarthy. . . . Miss Mildred Nigro, a nurse of 141 Clinton S t., Brooklyn, te s tifie d . . . that she took care of Mrs. McCarthy on Jan. 9» the day she became i l l . The witness had also taken care of Mrs. McCarthy at the Sherry-Nether land in 1928.

^ Ibid., 1 February 1929, p- 11* 22b

In the evening at about the time the w ill was signed, the nurse te s tifie d , Mrs. McCarthy's temperature was about 104 2-5, her pulse 132 and respiration 3^, but she did not think Mrs. McCarthy to be dangerously i l l . Mrs. McCarthy had two drinks of liquor that evening. Dr. Crane of Rye was summoned by Dr. McCarthy at midnight. . . . Dr. McCarthy and three nurses as well as the witness were with Mrs. McCarthy when she died from pneumonia.^

On the day that Dr. McCarthy's lawyers were scheduled to present

his defense, it was reported that the attorneys for both parties had

reached a settlement out of court. Miss Gowen, who had received

$200,000 under the provisions of her mother's w i l l , received in excess of $1,000,000 as well as 30^ per cent of the residuary estate after

contesting the w i l l .

The details of the Gowen-McCarthy case are important to a study of

Behrman's dramatic technique in End of Summer because the reported

action of the principals mentioned in the t r i a l , Dr. McCarthy, Mrs.

McCarthy, Peggy Gowen and her grandmother, Mrs. Smith, became the basis

for the melodramatic plot of Behrman's first three versions of End of

Summer.

The third major stimulus for End of Summer came from Behrman's

desire to w rite a play about the contemporary problem of unemployment,

especially as it affected young college graduates. A transcription from

Behrman's personal diary is included in his early notes for the play:

Oct. 12--from Diary (p. 120): at 5 to meet Cheryl Crawford at the Algonquin. Whereby transpired a talk: She asked me what I was thinking of for my next play. I

^ I b i d . , 31 January 1929, P- 20.

^ ^ Ib id ., 7 February 1929, P- 29- 225

told her it was young people coming out of college having nothing to do contrasted with stored pioneer-predatory wealth the rich were living on. She smiled: I thought because someone else has the idea. She said no--that was precisely what she and Lee Strasberg had considered suggesting to me. This was quite extraordinary. As I talked to her about the idea it c la rifie d in my own mind so that I am now certain that I have something to go on— something v ita l and absorbing. My hpadache vanished and I rode up-town in great excitem ent.^* •

By June 23, 1935, Behrman had culled a ll of his previous notes on

End of Summer from his diary, earlier notebooks, and the "P.H.G.11 file.

He then composed a tentative list of characters and a general plot out­ lin e , combining the three strands of The Cherry Orchard, the Gowen-

McCarthy case, and the problems of unemployment among recent college graduates. The character of the daughter, Paula Frothingham in the final version, was clearly the protagonist of the play in the early notes. The action of the play concentrated on the reconciliation of

Paula's position as a wealthy young heiress with the contrasting rela­ tive poverty of her left-wing, unemployed boyfriend, a recent college graduate. The daughter's intellectual and emotional conflict over the value of her inherited wealth was shown in contrast to her mother's complete trust in money as a tool for the expression of emotional affec­

tio n .

Just as, Behrman imagined, the real Peggy Gowen had been forced to adjust to her mother's string of husbands, so, in End of Summer,

Paula Frothingham would be seen reacting to her mother's relationships with her f i r s t husband, Sam Frothingham (Albert Gowen), her second

l£fE0S Notebook, 12 October 193*t, pp. 7-8. 226 husband, Count Mirsky (Robert Forgan), and her third spouse, Dr. Kenneth

Rice (Dr. James McCarthy). Mrs. Margaret Huntington Smith Gowen Forgan

McCarthy of the "P.H.G." newspaper f i l e became Mrs. Leonie Wyler Froth­

ingham Mirsky Rice in the early notes for the play. The melodramatic scenario for the f i r s t d ra ft showed Paula Frothingham, with the help of her radical boyfriend, W ill Dexter, in the process of exposing Dr.

Kenneth Rice as an immoral Machiavellian, much as, in the actual case of

Gowen vs. McCarthy, Peggy Gowen's attorneys succeeded in presenting circumstantial evidence to suggest the criminal intent of her stepfather,

Dr. James M cCarthy.^

For a period of nearly six weeks, from June 23, 1935, until August

3, 1935, when he completed his d ra ft for the f i r s t act of the play that

16 he then called Three Summers, Behrman worked on the process of getting

to know his characters. The scenario for the melodrama was taken in

large measure from Behrman's "P.H.G." newspaper f ile s , but the character­

izations were drawn from his own personal experience.

Although the character of the daughter, Paula Frothingham, was most

s ig n ific a n t in terms of the action of Three Summers as dictated by the

scenario, Behrman took re la tiv e ly few notes on the details of her charac­

terization. The actress Jane Wyatt, a wealthy granddaughter of one of

Behrman's lite ra ry friends, Euphemia Van Rensselaer Wyatt, who was then

the drama c r it ic for the Catholic World, was Behrman's f i r s t model for

the character of Paula Frothingham. In September, 193^, he noted that

151 bid ., 23 June 1935 - 5 July 1935, pp. 1-36.

l6E0S Manuscript #1, 5 July 1935, P- 1. 227 the g i r l , "Peggy," should be Jane Wyatt. 17 On October 17, 1934, he

1R repeated, "girl: Jane Wyatt: she's all right,"10 and nine months later he expanded on that choice with the fuller description, . . doesn't want to be like her mother— wants to be hard and firm and clear and cerebral rather than pass ionate--and t idy— Jane Wyatt.

The playwright's notes for the character of Paula's mother, Leonie

Frothingham, were far more abundant. On July 17, 1935, he wrote somewhat poetically of his creation:

She's there— Leonie--standing in the wings—waiting to be born, for me to breathe life and gaiety and animation and to wreathe her head with the fateful cloud of tragedy.^

Two days la te r, he attempted a character description of Leonie that, except for a few minor e d ito ria l a lte ra tio n s , remained v ir tu a lly unchanged from the f ir s t d ra ft through the last version of the play:

Describe her— be in love with her and describe her. Take time to describe your characters instead of always a f t e r ­ wards as h ith erto . Think about them. . . . Something heartbreaking about Leonie. Something childish and child­ lik e — an acceptance of people instantly at the best of th e ir own valuation, warmhearted to a fa u lt, generous and impul­ sive. Her looks—her fragile and tentative lovliness. Her attitu d e toward Paula, her sensitiveness to Paula's charm and looks and dress. Her vibration to life, a vibration in the water swayed by each deflection in the current— couldn't conceivably hurt anyone . . . her little laugh, even in serious situations . . . but her f ir s t entrance and her f ir s t i mpress ion te rrib ly important. You've always wanted a character who came in excited in some lovely mood-- describe her--and show how her charms, he^ i rres istible qual- i ty comes over everyone—make i t visible.

^ EOS Notebook, September, 1934, p. 1.

^®lbid., 17 October 1934, p* 9-

, 9 Ib id ., 19 July 1935, p. 49-

20lbid., p. 45-

21 Ibid., pp. 50-51. 228

The woman he eventually made visible in the character of Leonie

Frothingham was actually several women. Leonie was based in fact on

Mrs. Margaret McCarthy, but she was created in Behrman's mind from his reminiscences of Hilda Gaige, Ruthie Selwyn, and Emily Davies Vanderbilt.

Behrman met Hilda Gaige in the mid-1920's when he worked as a play

22 reader for her husband, theatrical producer Crosby Gaige. Behrman

recorded his early reminiscences of Mrs. Gaige in his autobiography:

Hilda Gaige was lovely and very dear. She was slender, with questing, blue-green eyes and shimmering chestnut hair. There was sympathy and affection between us always. . . . She had a wonderful laugh. She was elfin--an adorable elf with a shadow over her. I wondered for a long time about the reason for the shadow. It came to me one day; it was her husband, it was Gaige. She was afraid of Gaige.

Mrs. Gaige divorced her husband in 1928 on the grounds of cru elty. At the divorce hearing she testified that Gaige was "domineering and self­

ish, constantly told her she lacked judgement and was sarcastic a t a ll

times." 2k Eleven days after her divorce, Hilda, at age M-3, married a

31-year-old publisher, James R. W ells.^ Behrman had lost touch with

Mrs. Gaige a fte r The Second Man closed in New York. He reflected on his

reunion with her a fte r her second marriage:

I thought, with a sinking heart, about Hilda. I had neglected her; the busy have less time for the unhappy. She had fin a lly

99 New York Times, 16 February 1936.

23S. N. Behrman, People In A Diary (Boston: L it t le , Brown, 1972), p. 20.

2^New York Times, 11 October 1928, p. 27-

2 5 1 bid ., 23 October 1928, p. 2k. 229

divorced Gaige and had married again— to the consternation of her friends— a man whom she had known for only a short time. This marriage seemed not to be going well either. . . . At dinner she told me that her marriage was a complete dis­ aster. There was nothing to do about it--she had made a sorry mistake, that's all.^6

Hilda Gaige Wells died of a heart attack in July, 193*+*^ Approxi­ mately six weeks la te r, Behrman began work in earnest on End of Summer.

The image of Hilda Gaige— her looks, her mannerisms, her inexplicably poor judgement in choosing men— pervades the early character notes for

Leonie Frothingham. W riting of Leonie in September, 193*+, Behrman noted,

28 “eternal romantic—Hilda--that's who it is--Hilda." A few days later he inserted the names “Hilda Gaige" and “Ruthie Selwyn" among his char­ acter notes.^ Actress Ruthie Selwyn was the wife of producer Edgar

Selwyn, who was Crosby Gaige's business partner. Mrs. Selwyn's name was mentioned twice in the End of Summer notes, but Behrman never indicated how he might use the details of her personality in his characterization of Leonie.

Drawing perhaps from what he knew of Mrs. Gaige's unfortunate marriages, Behrman wrote on September 5, 193*+'

Really it could be a study of a woman ruined by inability to distinguish first from second-rate in men: And this taste degenerates. This degeneration tragic and ruinous.

The “wonderful laugh" that Behrman included in his published remin­

iscences of Hilda Gaige appeared in the End of Summer notes. It was

^Behrman, People In A D iary, p. 135•

^7New York Times, 18 July 193*+, p* 17*

^ EQS Notebook, September 193*+, p. *+•

^ 9 |b id ., 2 September 193*+, P- 5>

-^Ibid., p. 6. 230 f i r s t mentioned in September, 193^: "her l i t t l e laugh— scene ending with her l i t t l e 1a u g h --little t in k le ."31 Ten months later Behrman made

reference both to the laugh and to Hilda's death as he wrote of Leonie,

"that little laugh— I'll never hear it again—that darling little

laugh."3^

Mrs. Gaige's name appeared on three occasions in conjunction with

the name of Emily Davies Vanderbi1t .33 Mrs. Emily Davies Vanderbilt

Thayer W hitfield was a prominent member of New York and Newport, R .I.,

society until her suicide, by a s e lf-in flic te d gunshot wound, in May,

1 9 3 5 .^ Miss Davies was married in November, 1923, to William H. Vander­

bilt, the son of Alfred G. Vanderbilt, who was Miss Davies's father's

closest frie n d .35 They were divorced in June, 1928, and Mrs. Vanderbilt married theatrical producer Sigourney Thayer six months later. She divorced Thayer in 1933 and married author Raoul W h itfield . At the time

of her suicide she was in the midst of yet another divorce proceeding.

37 She left a nine-year-old child by her first marriage, Emily Vanderbilt. '

Behrman alternately referred to Mrs. Whitfield as "Emily," leaving

o ff the surname, as "Emily Davies," as "E. D.or, in one case, as

"Emily V anderbilt." His notes also included the assumption that Mrs.

Ib id ., 2 September 193^, p. 5-

3 2 1bid ., 3 July 1935, P- 30.

3 3 |b id ., 23 June 1935, 21 July 1935, pp. 15, 52.

3**New York Times, 25 May 1935, P- !•

3 5 |b id ., 2 November 1923, p. 17*

3 6 1 b id ., 8 December 1928, p. 1*K

371bid., 25 May 1935, P- 1- 231

Vanderbilt was emotionally disturbed. The implied direction of her in s ta b ility , as indicated by Behrman's notes, was nymphomania.

Behrman's interest in Mrs. Vanderbilt as a model for Leonie was tied to the dramatic considerations of his plot o u tlin e. He found in Emily

Davies Vanderbilt's history an instance of a woman whose end was "tragic," due to an illness that could possibly be played more effectively and be viewed more sympathetically than Mrs. McCarthy's alcoholism. Behrman thought, perhaps rig h tly , that audiences would find a constantly tipsy

Leonie comic or unsympathetic. His Leonie, as the Gowen-McCarthy scenario determined her, had to be driven to her ruin, in part, by a doctor's criminal negligence. As long as Behrman adhered to his melodramatic plot outlin e, his Leonie would have to be a woman who could come in con­

tact with, marry, and finally be destroyed by a doctor.

The progression of Behrman's notes on Emily Davies Vanderbilt demonstrates that the gentleman playwright found the possibility of an emotionally-disturbed nymphomaniac heroine fascinating, but somewhat

intractable. His f ir s t note on Emily Davies was "make the mother E. D .-- mystery of her being--why—why--child doesn't know. . . . (E. D. Mad

how—why—why indeed)."^ The references to her madness continued: "By middle of 2nd act she's worried about herself: goes to Dr. . . . he's

the only one who could save her as E. D. to Sig Th/_S igourney Thayer_/—

ha 11uc inat i ons. "39

OQ EOS Notebook, September 193^, p. 3-

3 9 lb id ., 23 June 1935, p. 14. 232

Behrman next considered the serious implications of the shared predicament of Leonie Frothingham and Emily Davies. The further drama­ turgical problem of combining the factual and fic tio n a l elements of the

McCarthy-Leonie Frothingham-Emily Davies trio into one character was expressed in the note:

They /the audience/ don't know it's a tragedy--they shouldn't-- that coloration comes in la te r— toward end of act 2. E. D.'s life certainly wasn't tragedy, superficially, unless you looked beneath it_ and considered her history. One point: why hasn't_she /Leonie/ been divorced before: because he /first one/ has stood for it--now someone else for him— won't stand for it. You've got to keep her for 18 years married to him. Wei 1, E. D. had 7 or 8 or 9 y e a r-o ld chi Id. She must have lived with Van for 4 or 5 years. Think that's a ll right. Unless pick her up she's married to second. No., This places you so nicely. Gives you such a good f i r s t act.

Behrman's optimism was tempered three days la te r when he wrote to him- 41 self, "hardest thing in the world to write a play."

The novelty of having a nymphomaniac heroine struck Behrman as he

continued working on the details of Leonie's characterization: "You may

have something quite new here--the study of a nymphomaniac whose n.is

42 taken for granted." It was clear, however, that Behrman had some

difficulty approaching the subject of nymphomania with delicacy. As he

worked on d ia lo g u e for a scene between Leonie and her daughter, he wrote:

Have Paula say: "Mother's a,nymphomaniac."— the nymphomaniac story about E. D. in Newport. ^

^0 Ib id ., 4 July 1935, P- 31.

Ib id ., 7 July 1935, p. 37-

^2 1bid , 16 July 1935, p. 44.

^ I b i d . , 25 July 1935, p. 60. 233

Behrman soon realized that nymphomania is rarely the subject of casual conversation. A parenthetical edition to the above dialogue read:

“ (too shocking and c a llo u s ).1'

Behrman abandoned the idea of making any d ire c t reference to nympho­ mania in the d ra ft of Three Summers. The only indication of Leonie's condition in a ll of the versions of the play must be gleaned from what is largely unsaid about the relationship between Mrs. Frothingham and her f i r s t husband, Sam. It is clear from the dialogue that the Froth- inghams' marriage disintegrated shortly after Paula's birth. The only indirect hint that nymphomania might have been the cause of th eir break-up is in Sam's speech to Leonie, accompanied by Behrman's d ire c ­ tion, “ (with a kind of desperate bluntness.) You've made a career of f1irtation.Only the most sensation-seeking audience would construe that to mean that Leonie is a nymphomaniac.

In the final characterization of Leonie Frothingham Behrman borrowed more from Emily Davies' succession of unsuccessful marriages and from what he perceived to be the disadvantages of her excessive fortune than from her implied nymphomania. On August 18, 1935, he wrote:

Show Leonie— how she more than they /Tier c h ild re n / was a victim of i t /her weal th/ — i t's so tr"ue. E. D. mTght have been superb i7 she'd have had to rely on h ers e lf—what ^ Leonie might have been. I'm sad for Leonie--poor Leonie.

In the f ir s t drafts and final version of End of Summer Behrman's charac­ te riz a tio n of Leonie retained those d e ta ils . A fter Leonie's break with

Vf.. . , Ibid.

^Behrman, End of Summer in Famous American Plays of the 1930's (New York: D ell” 1973), act 1, p. 133*

^EOS Notebook, 18 August 1935, p- 110. 23k

Count Mirsky in Act Two, Behrman depicted her lack of self-reliance and poor judgement in a scene with Dr. Rice:

LEONIE: You know, Kenneth, I feel you are the only one in the world I can count on. KENNETH: Not me. LEONIE: Whom else? KENNETH: Yourself 1 LEONIE: Light reed.1 Fragile.' Fragile.1 KENNETH: Pliant but unbreakable. LEONIE: No. Don't think much of myself, Kenneth. Really I don 11 ement seems to be at fa u lt somehow

That Behrman derived creative inspiration from his research and

reminiscences of the lives of Mrs. Gaige, Mrs. Selwyn, and Mrs. Davies,

is clear from a note taken on July 21, 1935* Thinking of Leonie, he wrote:

Imagine Ruthie Selwyn Imag i ne H i 1 da Imagine Emily Vanderbilt ^g Imagine a combination of these--dignity too.

Behrman's notes on the third female character in the play, Leonie

Frothingham‘s mother, Louise Wyler, were linked d ire c tly to the id en tity

of Mrs. McCarthy's mother, Mrs. Francis Perry Smith. As his initial

impulse was to w rite a novel or story from the "P.H.G." m aterials,

Behrman's f i r s t note on Peggy Gowen's grandmother was "w rite a story

about Mrs. Smith.Later he added, "grandmother— Mrs. Smith,and

^Behrman, End of Summer, act 1, sc. 2, p. 160.

^ EOS Notebook, p. 52.

|b id ., p. 2.

^®lbid., p. k. 235

"Mrs. Smith wonderful patriarchal dame."51 A fter Behrman decided to write a play based on the "P.H.G." case, he questioned the possibility of including the grandmother's character in his dramatic scenario, but he later resolved:

I think suddenly you ought to use the grandmother— she lin k with the past—she original pioneer's daugher--she and PHG scenes . . . see very l i t t l e of her in play— a ilin g —wheel cha i r .^

Behrman's decision to adhere to the "P.H.G." scenario forced him to

53 follow what he called his "3 act 3 father scheme," and so to depict the three successive husbands of Mrs. McCarthy. His addition of the d etails of Emily Davies Vanderbilt's l i f e further required him to provide, for

Leonie's f ir s t husband, the characterization of a man who would passively accept a long-distance marriage to an adulterous wife. There were scattered references in the early notes to a lawyer named "Dan," described 5k as a "handsome, t a l l , grey-haired man" who emerged from the later notes as a p o litic a l conservative: "find notes about Dan— his Republicanism-- his hatred of F.D.R."^ "Dan's" political beliefs surfaced in the. first d ra ft and fin al version of End of Summer in a scene between Sam Frothing­ ham, Paula's father, and Will Dexter, Paula's radical boyfriend. Concerned about his future son-in-law's plans to create a left-wing journal with

his daughter's inheritance, Sam says to Will:

5^Ibid.

Ibid., p. 8.

53 | b id . , p. 2 .

5^Ib id ..

55ib id ., 12 July 1935, P- ^0. 236

Wei], there are--from my point cf-view at least—a lot of nonsensical ideas knocking about. I'd like to point out just one thing to you. Your radicalism and all that--well, the point is this — if you marry Paula— and I hope you do, because I like you--and, what is more important, Paula likes you—you'll have responsibilities. Paula will be rich. Very rich. Money means responsibility. Now, I shouldn't, for example, like you to s ta rt radical magazines w i th i t . ^

Perhaps because of Behrman's fa m ilia rity with the personality of his acquaintance "Dan," he took relatively few notes on the character of

Sam Frothingham.

Behrman allowed himself greater freedom from the r e a lis tic d etails

of the "P.H.G." case in creating the character of Leonie's second

husband, who, through a process of contamination that would rival that

of Terence, emerged as a combinatination of Count Ilya Tolstoy, son of

Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy, and Raimund von Hofmannsthal, son of the

Austrian poet, dramatist, and opera librettist, Hugo von Hofmannsthal.

In the early stages of the characterization that would la te r become

that of Count Boris Mirsky, Behrman referred to Leonie's second husband

simply as "Forgan,"57 an allusion to Mrs. McCarthy's second husband,

Robert Forgan.^ By October 25, 193^, he had settled on making "Forgan"

the "son of a famous man,"^ a stroke of inspiration that seems to have

been sparked by his acquaintance with Raimund von Hofmannsthal, who had

been married in 1933 to Ava Alice Muriel Astor Obolensky, the daughter

^Behrman, End of Summer, act 3, p. 179•

57EOS Notebook, pp. 3, 8.

-^ New York Times, 29 May 1926, p. 13.

59E0S Notebook, p. 13- 237 £q of John Jacob As tor. Behrman's notes continued, "A von H yes. . . .

But father a great man— I'm not."^' Behrman apparently did not count von Hofmannsthal among his most treasured friends, for in another note dated June 24, 1935, he wrote of Mirsky, "Make him like R von H in manner

62 and this hatred of him will be red herring for you." The playwright evidently had some misgiving about using his acquaintance with von

Hofmannsthal as data for Mirsky's character, but he convinced himself

that his work on End of Summer came first on his list of priorities:

You can ta lk to Raimund about it--W hat do you care? Only one loyalty and to this®’

Before he committed himself fu lly to the idea of basing Mirsky completely on von Hofmannsthal, Behrman, perhaps because he was in the midst of work on the screenplay for Garbo's Anna Karenina (1935), thought of the son of Count Tolstoy as a possible model:

Make him— 2nd husband--instead of son of von H, son of Tolstoy—son of tremendous figure--bis father despised him and he hated and feared his father. ^

He advised himself to "read all the Tolstoy books.In an expository

passage from End of Summer, Leonie's description of Mirsky's father could

be that of the bearded Tolstoy:

60 New York Times, 24 January 1933, p. 16.

^ EOS Notebook, p. 13-

62 I b id ., p. 15.

63 Ib id ., 25 October 1934, p. 13-

6£f I b i d., 26 October 1934, p. 13-

6 5 1bid., 1 July 1935, p. 24. 238

LEONIE: I must show you the photographs of his fa th e r— wonderful old man with a great white beard like a snow-storm— looks like Moses— a Russian Moses — and Boris is sitting on his knees--couldn1t be over ten years old and wearing a fur cap and boots— . . . people came from a ll over the world to see his father.' WILL: Isn't it strange that Count Mirsky's son should find himself in this strange house on this odck headland of Maine--writing his father's life?

Later in End of Summer, Leonie's enthusiasm over what she assumed was an id y llic and somewhat idolatrous relationship between son and father was dampened by the character's own reminiscences of his childhood.

Mirsky confesses in Act Two that he a ctu ally hated his fath er, just as

Ilya Tolstoy, in his biography of his father, Reminiscences of Tolstoy, admitted that their relationship was considerably strained. Tolstoy wrote of his father's visits with the village peasants' children, "When they came, the front hall smelt of sheep-skin ja c k e ts ."^7 Of the effects of his father's religious conversion, Ilya continued:

As a boy of twelve I felt that my father was getting more and more estranged from us, and that our interests were not merely indifferent to him, but actually alien and repulsive. . . . (He) was transformed before our eyes into a stern and censor­ ious propagandist. His harsh denunciations of the aimless life of gentlefolk, of their gluttony, their indolence, and spoliation of,the industrious working classes, grew more and more frequent.

The son of Tolstoy spoke of the times when he and his cousins and friends

"were all enjoying ourselves with games and croquet and talking about

fa llin g in love, when suddenly my father would come in and with a single

6 fi Behrman, End of Summer, act 1, p. 111.

^^Count Ilya Tolstoy, Reminiscences of Tolstoy, trans. George Calderon (New York: Century"] 191*0, pp^ 1 15-

68 Ibid., p. 261. 239

f.Q word, or even worse, with a single look, would spoil the whole thing." v

Ilya Tolstoy's recollections of his childhood were clearly a source for

Mirsky's response to Dr. Rice's suggestion that the memoirs of his father might be commercially successful:

BORIS: To t i t i l l a t e the public would not compensate me for forcing myself to recall the atmosphere of sain tly sadism in which my childhood was spent--I can s t i l l smell that living room, I can s t i l l smell those stinking, sexless pilgrims who used to come from all over the world to get my saintly father's blessing. I used to s it with my mother in a room no bigger than a closet to get away fCQm the odor of that nauseating humanitarianism.

With his research on Tolstoy under way by July 3, 1935* Behrman

finally decided to make Count Mirsky a "combination of Tolstoy and

Raimund."7^ Until he discovered the technique of using his research on

Tolstoy to supply Mirsky's background and his acquaintance with von

Hofmannsthal to provide the character's physical d e ta il, Behrman was

s lig h tly confused about how he could mask Mirsky's s im ila rity to the

well-known New Y orker Raimund von Hofmannsthal. On August 1, 1935,he

noted, "Count Mirsky, if you made him the son of composer of operas 72 would be too readily recognizable." In his notes for the following

day, he asked himself, "Is it libelous? Then you won't make it so

close—change the nationality."7^ For a brief time, Behrman considered

691bid., p. 262.

^Behrman, End of Summer, act 2, sc. 1, p. I*f0.

71 EOS Notebook, 3 July 1935, p. 28.

7^ lb id ., 1 August 1935. p. 6 9 .

73 Ib id ., 2 August 1935, p. 71- 240 adding some character details from his knowledge of Hilda Gaige's second husband, Jimmy Wells, perhaps to disguise the obvious p arallels to the then living sons of Tolstoy and Hugo von Hofmannsthal, but this idea was

74- soon discarded. In the final characterization, the similarity between the fictional Count Mirsky, and the factual Ilya Tolstoy, is fairly transparent. A character description that Behrman wrote into the first draft of Three Summers was omitted from the published version of End of

Summer, perhaps because i t could be too closely, or rather too u n fla tte r- ingly associated with a physical description of von Hofmannsthal:

COUNT MIRSKY: Very good looking--Mongoloid about the eyes — "veneer of French vice over Tartar Barbarism" someone once described the old-regime Russian— observed closely, Mirsky might give evidence of both. Elegant, slirn, easy, gives the effect of being distracted and not quite paying atten tio n to what is said, and yet his manners are impeccable. Exquisitely dressed in summer clothes— actually he is 30, but his impassive face is lineless—he might be 24 or 40. He will look about the same at 40 as he did at 24. His English is exquisite, a s lig h t and attractive accent.

In his characterization of Leonie Frothingham1s third "husband,"

Dr. Kenneth Rice, Behrman grasped the opportunity to express his festering hatred of psychoanalysts. Dr. Rice was, of course, based in fact on Dr.

James McCarthy, whose questionable handling of his wife's finances had given Behrman the melodramatic plot for his Three Summers scenario.

When Behrman substituted an emotional ailment in Leonie for Mrs. McCarthy's

7Zflb id ., 12 July 1935, p. ^1.

7%0S Manuscript #1, p. 10. 2k] reported alcoholism, however, he opened the door for what he called a

"unifying and superb opportunity to do in the neurasthenic quacks."^

In his autobiography, Behrman expressed his reaction to the fad of psychoanalysis as he encountered it in the Hollywood of the 1930's:

Hollywood was so preempted by the psychoanalysts that it was inconceivable that any ailment could on occasion be physical. Such a bizarre source of malaise never occured to anybody even as a p o s s ib ility . Whatever was wrong with you must be a mental aberration due to some disappointment connected with the film in d u s try .''

Behrman's quarrel with psychoanalysis went much deeper than the level of irritation. His childhood friend and mentor, Dan Asher, after two abor­ tive sessions with famous Boston psychiatrists, had been sent to a neurological in s titu tio n in Massachusetts a fte r a nervous breakdown in

June, 1929" Four days a fte r his admission to Dearborn Hospital, Dan

Asher broke the window of his room and cut his throat with a piece of glass. Behrman later discussed the details of Asher's suicide, with a sense of angry irony, in a series of articles printed in the New Yorker in 1954, that were later collected and published as The Worcester

“70 Account. Asher also became the model for the character of W illie Lav in in Behrman's autobiographical play, The Cold Wind and the Warm, produced in 1958. What Behrman viewed as psychiatry's dangerous prescription of psychoanalytic placebos for possible physiological disorders, was later strengthened by the sudden death of his close frien d , George Gershwin.

^ EOS Notebook, 2 September 193^-, p. k.

^Behrman, People In A Diary, p. 253*

^Behrman, The Worcester Account (New York: Random House, 195^). 242

Gershwin, who was a regular patient of psychoanalysts in New York and

Hollywood, died of an undiagnosed brain tumor in July, 1937*^

Behrman became excited almost immediately about the dramatic poten­ tial of Dr. Kenneth Rice as a melodramatic villain. His simple sketch of

Rice's relationship with the character of Leonie, "he as her psycho­ analyst . . . she murdered at the end. The overdose of dope, of sleeping

On medicine,"ou bore a close resemblance to the implied foul play surround­ ing the death of Mrs. McCarthy. Placing Dr. Rice in a profession he considered innately evil was a stroke of characterization that enabled

Behrman to associate his lite r a l murderer with a fig u ra tiv e ly "murderous" occupation. His next notes on Dr. Rice were considerably more forceful:

I see it now as a study of an S.O.B. But a complete one--a murderous one, and he gets away with i t , charming, sm iling— the daughter--she's nearly caught--manages to escape some­ how— This could be marvelous--you can see him doing her good."

Before Behrman could build the character of Dr. Kenneth Rice, he had to research what he sarcas tically termed the "sweet vocabulary "'c of psychoanalysis. On July 15, 1935, he transcribed a phrase from his daily reading into his Notebook:

"shadow neurosis" N. Y. Times July 15— that is what he-says glibly is the matter with her—with him--with Tolstoy.

^ S c o tt Meredith, George S. Kaufmann and His Friends (New York: Doubleday, 1974), p. 46^"]

^ EOS Notebook, 2 September 1934, p. 4.

81 Ib id ., p. 3.

82 Ib id ., 12 August 1935, p. 93-

83 ib id ., 15 July 1935, P- 43. Zk3

Behrman dismissed an ethical qualm he had about transmuting the prosaic article on "shadow neurosis" directly into dramatic dialogue, by telling himself, "You can express the shadow neurosis better than the Times

f e 11ow did. »8k In the f ir s t d ra ft and in the fin al version of End of

Summer Behrman had Rice use the phrase to expose Mirsky to Leonie:

KENNETH: I've been in my room slaving away at a scientific paper. . . . LEONIE What's your paper on? KENNETH Shadow-neurosis. . . . LEONIE What does i t mean? KENNETH (Looking at B oris.) It is a sensation of non­ existence. . . . The victim knows that he exists and yet he feels that he does not.' . . . BORIS: The doctor is so eloquent. Once he describes a sensation it becomes very easy to feel it. . . . KENNETH: Your skepticism about this particular disease is interesting, Count Mirsky, because, as i t happens, you suffer from it. BORIS: (Bearing down on Kenneth.) Has it ever occured to you that you are a wasted novelist? . . . KENNETH How is your book getting along, Count Mirsky? BORIS Very well. Oh--so-- . . . KENNETH May I suggest a t i t l e to you— ? LEONIE Oh, do.' What shall we call i t , Kenneth? KENNETH "The Memoirs of a Boy Who Wanted to Murder His Father." . . . BORIS: I am not a hysterical woman, Doctor— and I am not your patient.' LEONIE: But Kenneth--Boris worshipped his father. KENNETH: No, he hated him. He hated him when he was alive and he hates him s t i l l . He grew up under the overwhelming shadow of this world genius .... Did you worship your father, Count Mirsky? BORIS: It's true.1 I hated him.' ^

Behrman had Kenneth use the m otif of "shadow neurosis" again, la te r in

the play, to convince Leonie that she and Boris were not suited for each

^ I b i d . , 11 August 1935, p- 81.

85[}e hrman, End of Summer, act 2, sc. 1, pp. 137-139- 2kk other. "Shadow neurosis" in this scene becomes Kenneth's tool for removing Boris and clearing the way for his own adventure in fortune- hunting:

KENNETH: Leonie— you are the last woman on earth Count Mirsky should marry. He would only transfer his hatred of his father to you . . . your charm, your gaiety, your position, your wealth, your beauty— these would oppress him . . . again the secondary role--Leonie Frothingham's husband-- the son of Count M irsky-- . . . Again the shadow—again, eternally and always--non-existence. Poor fellow.8°

Another major source of psychoanalytic jargon for Or. Rice was an article by W. Beran Wolfe entitled "The Twilight of Psychoanalysis."^

Behrman agreed with Wolfe's favorable appraisal of a quote from the

Viennese ed ito r Karl Kraus, that "psychoanalysis is the disease whose symptoms it purports to c u r e . "88 The playwright felt so indebted to

Wolfe for the material he used from the American Mercury a r tic le that he «q considered writing for permission to quote him. ^ Behrman soon discov­ ered, however, that Wolfe had been k ille d in a motor accident in

Switzerland, and as he copied more jargon from Wolfe's a r tic le into the dialogue for Dr. Rice, he included a eulogy for his departed source,

"God rest his soul and bless him.1 "8®

^Ibid., act 2, sc. 1, pp. l^fl-142.

87w. Beran Wolfe, "The Twilight of Psychoanalysis." Amer_i_can Mercury, August 1935, pp* 385-39^-

881 bid., p. 387.

89E0S Notebook, 12 August 1935, p. 95-

9 0 1b id ., 27 August 1935, P- 128. Zh5

The instances of the transference of vocabulary from Wolfe's article into Rice's speeches are too numerous and disjointed to enumer­ ate here, but the license Behrman enjoyed in quoting from the Wolfe article may be illustrated by reference to a scene between Dr. Rice and

Dennis McCarthy, W ill Dexter's frien d , in the second act of End of

S umme r:

DENNIS: In the psychoanalytic hierarchy Freud is the god, is n 't he? . . . KENNETH: Yes. . . . DENNIS: Now, every psychoanalyst has to have himself analyzed. That's true, is n 't it , Doctor? KENNETH: Generally speaking, yes. DENNIS: As I understand it , the highest prices go to those nearest the Master himself. . . . I know whereof I speak. I prepared an article on the subject for Fortune. . . . I have examined the racket with a microscopic patience and this I find to be true: at the top of the hierarchy is the Great Pan- Sexual ist of Vienna. To be an orthodox and accepted Freudian, you must have been analyzed by another of the same. Now what I am burning to know is this: Who analyzed Sig Freud himself? Whom does he te ll iiis repressions to? Why, the poor guy must be as lonely as hell .91

V irtu a lly a ll of the dialogue from the preceding scene was extracted from the following passage from Wolfe's a r tic le in the Mercury:

To get rid of your neurosis you must be psychoanalized by an orthodox and accredited Freudian. To be an orthodox and accredited Freudian you must have been analyzed by another orthodox and accredited Freudian. At the tip of the hier­ archy stands the Unanalyzed One. To be analyzed by an ortho­ dox and accredited Freudian requires at least nine months, and costs from two to ten thousand d o llars, depending on how close to the Unanalyzed One your orthodox and accredited analyst may be. If the Freudian doctrine is true, and the salvation of man's conflicts lies only in universal and

^Behrman, End of Summer, act 2, sc. 1, p. 1^6. 2k6

catholic analysis, then the Freudians stand accused of being the most avaricious men in the w orld.9^

On the day Behrman completed his f ir s t d ra ft of Three Summers he focused his attention on what he had accomplished with the character of

Dr. Rice, the Machiavellian murderer of his mother-in-law, Mrs. Wyler, and his wife, Leonie, and reflected with pride, "I think this is the

God-damndest satire of psychoanalysis ever done."9^

The remaining characters in End of Summer, Will Dexter, his father,

Dr. Dexter, an unemployed scientist and Dennis McCarthy, Will's radical college friend, allowed Behrman to pursue his interest in the contem­ porary problem of unemployment. W ill and Dennis, who were accompanied

in the first draft by two more jobless classmates, were representative of millions of unemployed students. Dr. Dexter, Will's father, was a victim of the frightened reaction to technological unemployment, His joblessness in End of Summer was due to his research on a method for

improving high-speed s te e l, an invention that would put thousands of gif laborers out of work.

For Three Summers to be what the playwright envisioned as a Cherry

Orchard of Capitalism, Behrman needed to p it the self-indulgence of the

rich, who by virtue of their inherited wealth had done nothing to amass

their fortunes, against the agony of unemployment suffered by an indus­

trious, yet idle, in te llig e n ts ia . By bringing the Dexters and McCarthy

92 Wolfe, p. 392.

99 E0S Notebook, 5 September 1935> P- 1^7*

-^Behrman, End of Summer, act 1, p. 100. 2k7 into the Frothingham household, Behrman created the setting for ideo­ logical conf1i c t.

Behrman again embarked on a rigorous program of research into the history of inherited wealth and the problems of contemporary unemploy­ ment. He reminded himself to read Matthew Josephson's The Robber

Barons (193^), and took the note: "Josephson: reinvestment of capital by big powers causing depression— no moratorium on them--on science, y e s ." ^ The reference was la te r used in a speech by young W ill Dexter to old Mrs. Wyler, daughter of a pioneer in the oil industry: “That is one of the differences, Mrs. Wyler, between my day— and yours — in your day, you put a premium on invention--we declare a moratorium on it.“^

For background material on the Frothingham's fic tio n a l fortune,

Behrmar cited Gustavus Myers' book, History of the Great American

Fortunes ( 1910 ),^7 and J. T. Flynn's study of J. D. Rockefeller, God's

Gold (1932).”^ Behrman later turned to Alfred Bingham's Insurgent

Arne r i ca (1935), wherein the Frothingham's debt to capitalism was linked to the source of Dr. Dexter's joblessness: “Technological unemployment is only one phase of the fatal inability of capitalism to distribute sufficient purchasing power to allow the 'market' to expand along with productive capacity ad i nfini turn.“^9

95 E0S Notebook, 2 September 193^, p. 6 .

^Behrman, End of Summer, act 1, p. 100.

9? eqS Notebook, 27 August 193^-, p. 2.

9 8 1bid., 2 July 1935, P- 27-

^ A lfr e d m. Bingham, I nsurgent Amer i ca (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1935), P- 3. 248

Behrman was struck by the novel and topical implications of a love- match between the jobless W ill Dexter and heiress Paula Frothingham, as illu s tra te d by his remarks on June 26, 1935:

The point is (apropos of Waiting for L efty) you can show in this the agony of the flannelled and charming and patrician boys and g irls now emerging from college . . . Hasn't as far as I know been touched . . . and against the background of stored pioneerism, and what the e ffe c t of this is on the s torees.

Dennis McCarthy, the sim ila rly jobless, but much more outspoken and conniving Irish friend of Will Dexter, was Behrman's spokeman for the views of the youthful unemployed. Behrman instructed himself to "read up on Catholic literature"^ for the details of Dennis' characteriza­ tion. He also did considerable research on the contemporary views of college radicals, transcribing long passages from articles written by

1 CO Eunice Fuller Barnard that were printed in the New York Times Magazine.

The only d etail of McCarthy's characterizaton that was unconnected to his p o litic a l views appeared in the Notebook on August 27, 1935: "In stage direction for Dennis: grotesquely ugly--dull as granite physically as Harold Ross."^^ Behrman omitted the reference to Ross in the pub­

lished description, a cut that was probably more politic than artistic, since Ross was Behrman's employer on the s ta ff of The New Yorker.

By June 30, 1935, Behrman had completed the rough scenario of Th ree

Summers, and he summarized the work of the previous week:

^ ^ EOS Notebook, 26 June 1935, p* 17-

101 Ib id ., 25 July 1935, P- 61.

^ New York Times, 29 April 1934, p. 5; and 23 June 1935, p- 8 .

^ 3 EOS Notebook, p. 128. 249

Omit unnecessary children and here is your complete cast: 1. Father 2. Mother 3 • Peggy 4. Boy 5. Boy's father 6. Tolstoy 7. Doctor 8. Grandmother . . . I d e fin ite ly want the grandmother--she should die during the play--between one of the a c ts --a fte r 2nd I should think— or during second

He retained the former Act Two placement of the grandmother's death in the f ir s t manuscript of Three Summers, begun on July 5, 1935, a t Lake 105 Bomoseen, Vermont, the summer home of Alexander W oollcott. He com­ pleted Act One s lig h tly less than a month la te r, on August 3, 1935, but was unable to continue work on the play until one week la te r because of some d iffic u lty in deciding on an opening for the second act. On August 8 he noted: "I am missing something vital--som e clue— some method or 106 procedure on 2nd Act--otherwise I shouldn't be at this impasse." Two days la te r he found his "clue" in previous notes from the New York Times a r tic le on "shadow neurosis": "Eureka.1 you always wanted strong opening

Act 2--'shadow neuros is ' — th is certainly gives it to you."^^ As he began work on the second act d ra ft of Three Summers, his notes reflected a sense of relief and exultation at having passed through a period of creative stagnation:

1 I bi d., p. 21.

^°^E0S Manuscript //l, p. 1.

^ ^ EOS Notebook, p. 75-

1071bid., 10 August 1935, P- 80. 250

What fun i t ' l l be from now on— no reason i t shouldn't be fun. Most fascinating play you've ever worked on . . . After all, Sam, I'm only asking you to write one a c t- one act of a play.

That "one a c t," the second act of Three Summers, was finished on August 26,

1935- Behrman began work on the third act on the same day, and wrote the

"curtain" on the finished d ra ft of Three Summers on September 5 , 1935, exactly two months a fte r the day he began.

The f i r s t d ra ft of End of Summer reveals Behrman's debt to the details of the Gowen-McCarthy case. The action is set on "The Huntington

Estate" in Maine: Behrman later changed "Huntington," a name that derived from the ancestry of his actual models, to "Frothingham." In the first act, Will Dexter's chat with Paula's grandmother, Mrs. Wyler, is

interrupted by Paula's entrance. Mrs. Wyler leaves the room, and Paula

receives a telephone call from her father, Sam, who announces that he w ill be v is itin g la te r in the day. Leonie comes in from the garden, and a fte r a b rie f scene with W ill and Paula, leaves to pick up her latest

romantic companion, Count Mirsky, at the station. Dennis McCarthy and

two college friends, Celia and Erik, then enter to te ll W ill and Paula of an argument they've been having with Mrs. Wyler over the new "god," statistics, but their conversation is interrupted by the arrival of

W ill's father, Dr. Dexter, who a fte r an argument with Dennis concerning

technological unemployment, asks to be taken to his room. Paula's father

is the next to a rriv e . He is in the midst of te llin g his daughter that

he plans to divorce Leonie and remarry, when Leonie and Mirsky return

10 81bid., 11 August 1935, p. 82. . 251 from the station. While Leonie shows mirsky to his rooms, Sam and Paula discuss the likelihood of Leonie's marrying the Russian.

Act Two takes place the following summer. Sam has divorced Leonie and remarried. Leonie has married Count Mirsky, and W ill, Dennis, Celia and Erik have graduated from college and are unemployed. Leonie has sent for Dr. Kenneth Rice, a noted p sychiatrist, to observe her new husband's strange behavior. As the act opens, Rice forces Mirsky to confess his hatred of his father. Kenneth advises a separation between Leonie and

Mirsky, and Leonie, out of a sense of gratitude and attraction for Dr.

Rice, offers to build him a new sanatorium. Their conversation is inter­ rupted by the a rriv a l of Paula and her houseguests, W ill, Dennis and Dr.

Dexter, who mentions that he has found work w riting for a popular science magazine. Paula and Will are left alone for a brief love scene that is broken by the entrance of Paula's grandmother, the a ilin g Mrs. Wyler.

Mrs. Wyler asks to speak to Rice alone concerning the provisions of her w i l l . Rice advises her to leave Paula enough money to live on, but not enough for her to finance W ill's radical magazine. Mrs. Wyler thanks

Dr. Rice for his good counsel and is suddenly struck by an agonizing pain. Rice administers a shot of morphine and sends her back to her

room in the company of his paramour, Nurse Murchison. Rice immediately phones his attorney and discovers that he can control the Wyler fortune by marrying Leonie and by being named adm inistrator of Mrs. Wyler's estate. Nurse Murchison, however, eavesdrops on the conversation, and a b rie f argument ensues, interrupted by the subject of th e ir dispute,

Leonie. The nurse leaves, and Kenneth convinces Leonie that she should

not waste her money endowing a radical magazine for W ill and his friends.

Leonie is in the midst of proposing marriage to Kenneth when W ill enters. 252

Will and Kenneth argue about Paula. Rice leaves, and W ill accuses Paula of being attracted to Kenneth. Leonie, Rice, Dexter, W ill, Paula and

Dennis then gather for cocktails before dinner, but th eir s o c ia b ility is disturbed when W ill fights with Kenneth and storms out of the room.

Paula informs Rice that Mirsky wants to see him, and the act ends with

Mirsky begging for the morphine that he has been habitu ally stealing

from Mrs. Wyler's room, with Rice's and Murchison's s ile n t approval.

Act Three opens, one summer la te r, on an expository scene between

Celia, Erik and Dennis, who are discussing the events of the past year.

Mrs. Wyler has died. Leonie and the Count are divorced, and Mirsky, a

hopeless drug addict, has been committed to a sanatorium. Leonie has

been behaving as i f she, too, has been using some kind of drug, and Paula

and Will have gone on a mysterious journey to Norfolk, Va., to speak to

Nurse Murchison. Paula phones to announce that she and W ill have returned

and w ill be home shortly. Leonie te lls her guests that she and Kenneth will be married soon. Left alone with Leonie, Kenneth, suspicious of

Will's and Paula's news, covers himself by telling her that he thinks

Paula doesn't like him. Paula and W ill enter, and with testimony from

Nurse Murchison, they accuse Rice of the attempted murder of Mirsky and

the morphine murder of Mrs. Wyler with two of the most unBehrmanesque

lines of dialogue ever written: "The jig's up, Kenneth--We've got you

cold." Rice pleads euthanasia in the case of Mrs. Wyler and takes no

responsibility for Mirsky's condition. He then questions Will's motives

by accusing him of fortune-hunting. Will storms out, and Rice, left

alone with Paula, te lls her that he loves her. Leonie enters wearing

her mother's wedding gown. Her nostalgic mood is ruined by Paula's

revelation that Rice has proposed marriage to her. Leonie runs upstairs, and Rice, convinced that his plans are now fo ile d , leaves to pack his bags. W ill then convinces Paula that she should give up her lifelo n g commitment to save Leonie from herself and move to New York with him.

Leonie returns and agrees that Paula would be happier if she renounced her fortune and went with Will. In the last scene of the play, Leonie's solitude is interrupted by the entrance of Kenneth, who announces his plans to leave. Leonie, afraid of being le f t alone, begs Rice not to go. She also te lls him that she needs more of the medication he has been prescribing for her insomnia. Three Summers closes with Rice's lines" to the b u tle r, " I'v e changed my plans — Please unpack my bags--l'm stay i ng."^^

With some minor revisions, it was a typescript of this version of

End of Summer that Behrman sent to his lite ra ry agent, Harold Freedman, for submission to the Board of the Theatre Guild. The Guild was espec­ ia lly anxious to see Behrman's new play because actress Ina C laire had signed with them on a partnership basis for the 1935-1936 season and, as

Roy Waldau reported in his Vintage Years of the Theatre G uild, "its scrambling for a fit vehicle for her was rather hectic."^10 Not surpris- ingly, "the Board did not like the new Behrman play and voted against

it,"111 but as the Theatre Guild was long accustomed to the positive metamorphosis of a Behrman script from the f ir s t d ra ft to the final

1 oq EOS Manuscript ft 1, 5 July 1935 - 5 September 1935-

l^R oy S. Waldau, Vintage Years of the Theatre Guild: 1928-1939, (Cleveland, Ohio: Case Western Reserve, 1972), p. 209. 254 version, i t did not issue Behrman an unqualified rejection. As Waldau noted, "Theresa He 1 burn offered to help Behrman rewrite End of Summer if

112 the Guild were allowed a first reading of it."

Hiss Helburn was not the f i r s t e d ito r, however, to take a blue

pencil to End of Summer. Harold Freedman was the f ir s t to make copious

notes on the typescript of Behrman's f i r s t d ra ft. Freedman's chief con­ cern was that the play lacked a central focus. He was especially

troubled about the apparent imbalance between the characters of Leonie and Paula. Behrman wanted the play to be a character study of Leonie,

but the demands of the plot shifted the atten tio n to Paula. On the f ir s t

page of the typescript of Act Two, which opened with the "shadow

neurosis" scene between Leonie, Mirsky, and Rice, Freedman wrote:

You haven't centered attention on Leonie as a character study at the end of Act I. It becomes just as much, or at f i r s t , more so, Paula's attitu d e and feeling for Leonie and Paula's state of mind that is important. Therefore you cannot switch suddenly to Leonie's story only.

Freedman returned to his criticism of Behrman's handling of Paula in an

annotation to the th ird -a c t scene where Kenneth te lls Leonie that Paula

doesn't care for him: "This is the first we know of this--why doesn't

she like him?"^^ On the subject of Rice's negative attitude toward

Paula's new-found radicalism, Freedman remarked, "Why does he object to

this--we haven't seen any antagonism to those ideas d irectly--exce p t in

granny scene, and here he seems sincere--we haven't seen any antagonism

112lbid.

^ ^ EOS Typescript #1 ♦

114,Ibid. 255 between him and Paula and the reason. 5 Freedman also c ritic iz e d the th ird -act scene between W ill and Paula where W ill advises that Paula should give up helping Leonie out of uncomfortable romantic alliances:

"Why all of a sudden this bitterness and cynicism? . . . I don't like

Will here."^k

Behrman had lunch with Freedman on the ninth of September to discuss the Guild's reaction to the play. Freedman returned Behrman's typescript with his suggestions for possible changes, and also proposed a new title ,

End of Summer.^ ^ ^ Behrman had previously considered the title s Ti me:

The Present, Eelipse, Three Seasons, Honey-Pot, Three Generations, The

Froth i nghams, The Last Week-End, and Summer Must EndJ ^ but he preferred

Freedman's suggestion because he thought that i t f i t the end of his p la y .^ ^ On September 15, 1935, he wrote in his Notebook in capital le tte rs , "END OF SUMMER: TITLE," ^ 0 ancj began the rewrite of Three

Summers.

Behrman made v ir tu a lly no changes in Act One in his second d ra ft of the play. He was p a rtic u la rly concerned about the structure of the second act, and on September 17 he listed the thirty-one French scenes

^ ^ EOS Notebook, 10 September 1935, p. 148.

^ ® lb id ., 27 July, 7 August, 16 August, 24 August, 26 August, 27 August, 28 August, 10 September, 1935, PP- 64, 73, 104, 121, 124, 127, 129, 148, 149.

^ 9 | b id . , 10 September 1935, P- 149.

1201 bid., 15 September 1935, p. 152. 256 in the act with the intention of reshuffling them in his rewrite. After looking at the summary of scenes from the f ir s t d ra ft, however, he woe-

121 fully concluded, "recasting not enough--l'm afraid new second act."

The rewrite of Act Two opens with a scene between Leonie and Paula.

Paula c ritic iz e s her mother for her cavalier a ttitu d e toward married life. She notes that Mirsky has been drinking heavily, and she belittles her mother's notion that the present v is it of Dr. Rice w ill solve the problems in th e ir marriage. When Leonie suggests that getting rid of

Mirsky would be the best solution, Paula vows to leave home and move to

New York with W ill. Paula leaves to pick up W ill at the statio n . The melancholic Leonie then speaks to Dr. Rice, who has diagnosed Mirsky's ailment as "shadow neurosis." Mirsky enters, and Rice forces the Count's confession that he hated his father. Kenneth advises Leonie that Mirsky would probably be suicidal if he le f t him now, but th e ir conversation is interrupted by the arrival of Paula, Will, Dennis, and Celia. Will announces that his father will be visiting on the following day. Leonie and Kenneth leave for a walk on the dunes, and Celia and Dennis e x it to go swimming. Paula then te lls W ill that, due to the unpleasant environ­ ment at home, she has decided to move to New York with him. Nurse

Murchison wheels in Mrs. Wyler, who expresses her wish to consult with

Rice about the provisions of her w ill. Rice convinces Mrs. Wyler that

i t would be unwise to leave her fortune to Paula, whom he contends is

irresponsible with money. Mrs. Wyler then asks Rice to marry Leonie and become executor of her estate. Before Nurse Murchison brings Mrs. Wyler

^ I b i d . , 17 September 1935, p. 153. 257 back to her room, the elderly heiress tells Rice that she has seen Mirsky stealing drugs that had been prescribed for her. Leonie returns to the house, and Kenneth te lls her that he suspects Paula d islikes him. Leonie nevertheless proposes to Kenneth and he accepts. While Leonie is dress­ ing for dinner, Kenneth argues with W ill and accuses him of being a fortune-hunter. Paula enters and tells Will that she could not possibly leave Leonie alone, prey to the machinations of Dr. Rice, but W ill demands that Paula choose between her mother and him. Mirsky enters and te lls

Paula to "beware the man of science," hinting that Rice is murdering

Mrs. Wyler with drugs. Paula, upset at Will's ultimatum, dashes out of the room in tears as Leonie summons her guests to cocktails before dinner. Dr. Dexter arrives unexpectedly and thanks Leonie for sending a car for him one day earlier than planned. Will and Rice argue before dinner, and the remaining guests exit into the dining room, leaving Rice alone to answer Mirsky's demand for more drugs.

The only change made in the th ird act of the second d ra ft was an adjustment in the time of the action. Act Three, in the rew rite, takes place in the late fall of the same year as Act Two, instead of a full 122 year later as it transpired in the first draft.

Behrman met with Harold Freedman again on October 25, 1935, to discuss the changes he had made in the f i r s t typescript. Freedman's chief suggestions were that Behrman consider cutting the character of

Mirsky, and concentrate the action on R ice’s murder of Mrs. Wyler. He proposed that Rice be introduced e a r lie r in the play, and that a scene

^ ^ EOS Typescript #2. 258 hinting at Leonie's attraction to Rice end the first act. Freedman also suggested that Behrman end Act Two with an argument between Rice and Nurse

123 Murchison, setting up Murchison's betrayal of Rice in Act Three.

With the exception of cutting the character of Mirsky, Behrman followed a ll of Freedman's suggestions in his second rew rite, the third version of End of Summer, and came considerably closer to the structure of the final play. As Behrman recast the first act, Mirsky is already a houseguest at the rise of the curtain, and where Leonie had gone to fetch Mirsky at the station in the f ir s t d ra fts , she goes to pick up Dr.

Rice, who will "massage her Russian's complexes," in the rewrite. A new scene was inserted after Rice's arrival depicting Sam's confrontation with Leonie over his inf^nd'-.d divorce and remarriage and his wish that

Paula come to live with him. Leonie w ill not hear of losing Paula, and she rushes out of the room. Paula, who has been walking on the dunes with Dr. Rice, asks Sam about Leonie's reaction to his news. She expresses at once her ambivalence about Dr. Rice's character. Leonie then sends for Rice, who has just returned with praise for the "masculine

Riviera" look of the Maine coast, and the act closes with Sam and Paula questioning Leonie's future relationship with Rice.

The variations in Act Two of the rewrite consisted of softening

Paula's character in the opening scene with Leonie and changing the end of the act: Nurse Murchison threatens to q u it her job i f Rice marries Leonie. Mirsky is s t i l l depicted as a drug addict, but the

implication is that he turned to drugs out of intense jealousy

123eqS Notebook, 26 October 1935, p- 186. 259 brought on by the developing attraction between Rice and Leonie. Mirsky is also Leonie's paramour, never her husband, in the new s c rip t. Aside from necessary revisions in line references to the relationship between

124 Leonie and Mirsky, Act Three of the rewrite remained v ir tu a lly unchanged.

Freedman read the scrip t of End of Summer again on November 7, 1935*

Behrman did not begin work immediately on a completely new version of the play, but decided instead to spend the time from November 7 u n til

November 23 soliciting advice from friends about possible revisions for s p ecific scenes. Among Freedman's early suggestions for what would be

the fourth version of the play was his proposal to "have W ill introduce 125 a H itle r ite note on Kenneth in his scene with Paula in Act 2 ," a note that later resulted in Will's speech about Rice, "He's the kind of cynical, sneering--He's a marauder. The adventurer with the cure-all.

126 This is ju s t the moment for him." Freedman also reminded Behrman

that "we've omitted about his (Kenneth's) having studied medicine, 127 e tc ." Three weeks la te r Behrman constructed Rice's background from

that of an e a r lie r character, "Joan," in the f i r s t d ra ft of Rain From

Heaven. Behrman returned to his discarded speech about Joan's i l l e g i t ­

imacy :

Anyway, I console myself with a thought that I belong to the famous and spectacular company of the ille g itim a te s . One summer I consoled myself going through the Dictionary of National Biography hunting out bastards. Surprising how many there are. I set aside the brilliant ones.

^ ^EOS Typescript #3-

^**EQS Notebook, 8 November 1935, p- 169*

^^Behrman, End of Summer, p. 168.

127E0S Notebook, 8 November 1935, p- 169*

^ ^ Rain From Heaven Manuscript, p. 11. Kenneth's speech about his upbringing in the published version of End of

Summer was almost an exact duplicate:

KENNETH: . . . I remember as a kid of twelve going to the library at Springfield and getting down the Dictionary of National Biography and hunting out bastards. Surprising how many distinguished ones there were and are. I allied myself early with the brilliant and variegated company of the i 1 legi timate. . . . PAULA: Did you get yourse1f through college? KENNETH: And medical school.129

Freedman's w ife , May, suggested on November 16 that "Kenneth might be in love with Paula from the beginning.Two days later Behrman reminded himself to make another change: "cut out Walter and Celia."131

The removal of the two unemployed college friends of W ill and Dennis helped focus atten tio n on Dennis' ongoing plan to convince Leonie to endow his radical magazine in the fin al version of the play.

The most s ig n ific a n t change Behrman pondered in the sixteen-day hiatus between complete scrip t rewrites was crystallize d by Lee Simonson1 suggestion to "switch the entire contest of the play away from dope and

132 the w ill--into the realm of character antagonism." Behrman had been considering this major change for some time. On October 26 he had transcribed Harold Freedman's b e lie f that the dope angle "could really

133 be taken right out of the play." J On November 12 he noted to himself,

129Behrman, End of Summer, act 2, sc. 2, p. 165-

13°E0S Notebook, p. 111.

131 Ibid., 18 November 1935, p- 172. 261 134 "You really could elim inate en tire d o p e-stu ff." Simonson's re ite ra ­ tion of the element that would transform End of Summer from a murder melodrama into a comedy of manners was the incentive Behrman needed to convince himself to take the play in a new direction.

As he began his third rewrite on November 23, Behrman noted "this w ill be the fourth version of the p la y ." ^ ^ He embarked on the script revisions with a handful of valuable suggestions from conferences with friends. In a le tte r dated November 22, 1935, Freedman proposed that

" i t might be valuable to have the kids tease Kenneth and Freud in act 1."^^That note resulted in the only significant change made in

the rewrite of the f i r s t act. Dennis is no longer a houseguest a t the

rise of the curtain, but arrives at the station with Dr. Rice, and both men return to the house together with Leonie and W ill. Behrman did not

have Dennis and W ill heckle Rice about Freud in the new scene he placed

immediately after their arrival, but rather, he transferred a first draft

argument between Dennis, C elia, Erik and Mrs. Wyler about the value of

statistics, to an "arrival" conversation involving Dennis, Rice, Will,

Paula and Leonie.

In the fourth version of Act Two, Behrman returned to his original

opening on the "shadow neurosis" scene between Kenneth, Mirsky, and

Leonie. A b rie f scene between Leonie and Kenneth, including Leonie's

134 J Ib id ., p. 171

135lbid=, p. 174.

^^Harold Freedman to S. N. Behrman, 22 November 1935, S. N. Behrman Papers.

13 7Be hrman, End of Summer, act 1, pp. 122-124. offer of a sanatorium, follows, but they are interrupted by the arrival of Dennis, W ill, and Paula, who has just picked up the unemployed grad­ uates a t the station. Dennis heckles Rice about Freud here, and W ill and Paula are eventually le ft alone for a b rie f love scene in which

Paula's marriage proposal to Will is accepted. Nurse Murchison, whose role is reduced to that of a nameless supernumerary, then wheels in Mrs.

Wyler, who reveals that she has sent for Sam. The children go off to play tennis, and Mrs. Wyler has a short scene with Kenneth, whom she c le a rly distru sts, in which she quizzes him about his impressions of her family. Sam then arrives , and Mrs. Wyler entrusts the executorship of her estate to him. Scene One of the second act closes with Mrs.

Wyler's assertion that she is at last content with her provisions for the future.

The new second scene of Act Two opens with a caustic farewell between Leonie and Count Mirsky. Mirsky te lls Leonie to "beware the man of science," a line to Paula in an e a r lie r d ra ft im plicating Rice as a murderer, but here Mirsky's warning is intended as a psychological admonition. Mirsky leaves the house for good, and Leonie then proposes to Rice. Since Behrman was intent on following May Freedman's suggestion

that Rice loves Paula from the outset, Rice neither accepts nor refuses

Leonie's proposal, but it is clear that the attraction is stronger on

her part than i t is on his. A new scene follows between Paula and

Kenneth, when Kenneth tells her of his illegitimate origins and contrasts

his self-determination with what he perceives to be her watered-down

views on radical politics. The scene ends with Rice's declaration of

love, the beginnings of which are overheard by W ill. W ill and Paula 2 6 3 argue about Rice's interference in th e ir relationship, but Leonie in te r­ rupts them to summon her houseguests to cocktails before dinner. Again, as in e a r lie r d ra fts , W ill and Rice argue and W ill leaves the room, followed by Paula. Dennis and Dr. Dexter go in to dinner, and the act closes with Leonie's news for Rice that she has told Sam and her mother about th eir engagement.

Act Three opens la te r that fa ll on the a rriv a l of W ill and Dennis from New York. Leonie and Sam welcome them, and Leonie reminisces about her mother's funeral. Sam intends to review some legal matters with

Leonie, but before he leaves, he questions Will about his irresponsible p o litic a l b e lie fs . Dennis and Will then discuss Rice's role in turning

Sam and Leonie against them, but they are interrupted by the arrival of

Paula and Rice, who have been out walking on the dunes together. Will te lls Rice p rivately that he will withdraw from the trian g le since Paula does not seem to love him any longer, and a one-sided love scene follows, ended by Rice's proposal to Paula. Paula next exposes Rice's emotional

insincerity to her mother. She then begs Will to take her away to New

York, but Will believes that her fortune will come between them, and he asks her to wait until he has earned enough money to support them.

Leonie returns and advises Paula to follow Will, over his objections.

Kenneth disturbs Leonie's solitude in the fin al scene with the argument

that he never really loved Paula, but Leonie refuses to accept his psycho­ analytical explanation of the betrayal. Kenneth goes, and the play ends with Leonie sitting alone in her mother's chair, "looking out at the darkening sea where so often her mother sat musing the ancient r id d le ." ^ 8

^^EOS Typescript #4. 26k

Freedman and Behrman apparently agreed that the fourth version of

End of Summer was suitable for re-submission to the Theatre Guild, and

Waldau confirms that "by December it was thought to be in more acceptable

shape, although the Board wanted a conference with Behrman to 'see if he

couldn't quickly clarify its obscurities'."139 j^e Guild was still

reluctant to commit Ina Claire to the production, and the Board continued

to look elsewhere for a vehicle for her.^®

Although Behrman made innumerable references to Miss Claire through­

out his Notebook, he clearly did not envision her as the only possible

choice for Leonie. It is an exercise in futility to search for any

common denominator from the q u alities implied by Behrman's l i s t of

references to possible actresses. Madge Kennedy, Pauline Lord, Helen

Hayes, Tallulah Bankhead, Miriam Hopkins, Lauretta Taylor, Margalo

Gillmore, Katherine Cornell, Ethel Barrymore, Elizabeth Bergner, Judith

Anderson, Ruth Gordon, L illia n Gish, Mary Pickford, Sylvia Field, Dorothy

Stickney, Peggy Wood, Katherine Alexander, Estelle Winwood and Edna Best 1 Lf 1 were among those Behrman thought were suited to the role. A fter the

Guild's mid-December conference, from which no detailed notes survive,

the Board finally accepted Behrman's play for production, and, as Waldau

asserts, "after rejecting or exhausting most of the other solutions, Miss 1 k2 Claire was cast in End of Summer almost by default." The rest of the

^^Waldau, p. 226.

"•“ibid.

^ EOS Notebook, 5 September 1935 - 7 October 1935, PP- 1^7-162.

l^Waldau, p. 226. 265 company consisted of Osgood Perkins as Dr. Rice, Doris Dudley as Paula,

Walter Holbrook as Will Dexter, Mildred Natwick as Mrs. Wyler, Minor

Watson as Sam, Van H eflin , replacing Elisha Cook, J r., as Dennis McCarthy,

Herbert Yost as Dr. Dexter, Demetrios Vilan as Count Mirsky, and Kendall

Clark as the bu tler, Robert.

A Guild conference held during the rehearsal period for End of Summer yielded the note:

Mrs. Wyler--you see, Sam, what's happened to Leonie--flutter- ing around for romance--but I don't think she's ever found happiness--dream of perfection around the corner.^3

From this suggestion Behrman wrote Mrs. Wyler's poignant speech to Sam in Act Two:

You know, Sam, in spite of a ll her romantic dreams, Leonie has a kind of integrity. But I often wonder if she's ever been really happy.

End of Summer opened at the Bushnell Memorial in Hartford, Connecti­ cut, on January 30, 1936. By February 1, the Guild's production committee handed Behrman two pages of suggested revisions. In Act One they asked

Behrman "to establish the antagonism between W ill and Kenneth in ensemble scene on the issue of radicalism of the younger generat i on. " ^ 5 Behrman consequently added the dialogue:

WILL: (With heat.) It's easy to s it in this living room--and be smug about the survival of the fitte s t--e s p e c ia 1ly when you're convinced you're one of the fittest. But there are millions who

^ 3 eos Notebook, 19 January 1935, P* 209-

^Behrman, End of Summer, act 2, sc. 1, p. 155•

^5N 0 tes pn £nc) Qf Summer, Taft Hotel, New Haven, 1 February 1936 p. I . 266

won't concede you that superiority, Dr. Rice. There are millions who are so outrageously demanding that they actually insist on the right to live.' They may demand it one day at the cost of your complacency. LEONIE W illi We were just chatting. WILL I'm sorry. . . . KENNETH If you haven't settled on a career get, Mr. Dexter, may I suggest evangelism?^

Later in th e ir notes they asked Behrman to "transpose the dialogue at

the end of Act 1 so that the curtain can come down on the butler coming

in,"^ 7 a change that the playwright readily executed.

In th e ir notes for Act Two, the Guild's committee proposed, "Estab­

lish again Kenneth's antagonism to Will and his interest in the Paula-

148 Will situation," and Behrman accordingly added three appropriate

speeches:

KENNETH: I suppose you and your Irish friend edited the comic paper at college? WILL: No, we edited the serious paper. KENNETH: Just the same it must have been very funny. (He goes out after Leonie.) WILL: (To Paula.) Don't think that feller likes me much. 9

The Board further noted that "the Paula and W ill scene is very weak.

When he tells her that obviously she won't mind saving Leonie from the

doctor, she should fla re up at his unreasonable jealousy." ^ 0 Behrman

accommodated them with the closing lines of the scene:

^^Behrman, End of Summer, act 1, p. 124.

^? Notes, p. 1.

Notes , p. 1.

^^Behrman, End of Summer, act 2, sc. 1, p. 14-7■

^ ^Notes , p. 2. 267

WILL: (At white heat.) I haven't quite the technique of fortune-hunting y e t— in the European manner. Which of the two is he a f t e r — you or Leonie? W ill he f lip a coin? I hate you.' I hate you.'PAULA WILL Well, we kno^^here we are at ar>y rate. PAULA Yes. We do.'

At some time during the rehearsal period, Behrman cut the fourth- d ra ft scene where W ill offered to remove himself from the romantic

triangle that included him, Rice and Paula. He replaced it with Will's simply storming out of the room after being insulted by Rice. The Board offered a suggestion for a line of comic relief in that scene with the

note, "Dennis might say to Kenneth: 'Come up to my room Doctor and

152 we'll play Twenty Questions '," a piece of dialogue that Behrman

153 eventually gave to Dennis as an exit speech. A more significant

change, one that Behrman did not accept, was the Guild's suggestion for an alternate ending:

At the end of Act 3 possibly have Leonie go a fte r another man. Give the play a comedic ending . . . — Leonie going after Dennis possibly and instead of giving a sanatorium she starts a radical magazine. -)4'

End of Summer opened in Boston on February 3, 1936, to generally

favorable reviews. The only negative criticism of the play centered on

its ending. A reviewer for the Christian Science Monitor wrote that

the picture of the solitary Leonie as a figure of tragedy whose world

^Behrman, End of Summer, act 2, sc. 2, p. 169-

^^Notes, p. 2.

153 Be hrman, End of Summer, act 3, p. 181.

15**Notes, p. 2. 2 6 8 had crumbled about her, yielded a fin al curtain that "was inconclusive and out of key with the comedic idea."^55 George Holland of the Boston

Evening American refused to discuss the plot "because Mr. Behrman is going to be forced to find a new conclusion for it,"^ ^ and Elinor Hughes of the Boston Herald agreed: "a play is none the worse for having a conclusion, instead of just stopping, more or less up in the air, as End of Summer does 11157

Behrman finally yielded to the Guild's suggestion of an alternate ending featuring the re-_ntrance of Dennis. The critic for the Christian

Science Monitor described the new scene:

Dennis returns and seizes the opportunity to interest Leonie in backing his radical magazine. Sunshine returns to her face. She has a new interest. You can see that her eye is already beginning to rove again. This is entirely in keeping with the character and with the nature of the play. Leonie was not the woman to be le ft f la t . She was bound to come up smiling, and it is only fa ir that the author should admit as much to his audience. Moreover, the new ending brings the play toa logical conclusion, and Dr. Rice has an e x it more in character. Perhaps Mr. Behrman will find a fresher device than the forgotten b rie f case to bring Dennis back. ^

Behrman never adjusted the motivation for Dennis's return, but the

lack of additional revision did nothing to alter the New York critics'

views of the play. Some casting changes were made in Boston, Sheperd

Strudwick for Walter Holbrook as Will Dexter, and Tom Powers for

Demetrios Vilan as Count Mirsky. As Waldau noted in his Vintage Years

^ ^ Christian Science Monitor, 15 February 1936.

^-^Boston Evening American, February 1936, p. BIO.

^ ^ Boston Herald, k February 1936, p. 22.

^-^Christian Science Monitor, 15 February 1936. 269 of the Theatre G uild, "when End of Summer opened at the Guild's home theatre in New York on February 17, 1936, the reactions in the press were extremely cordial."^59

Behrman had o rig in a lly intended to dedicate the published version of End of Summer to his fiancee, Elza H eifetz, whom he married in June,

19 3 6 .^ ^ Their marriage cemented another bond between Behrman and the

Theatre Guild, for Elza's brother, violinist Jasha Heifetz, was the

l6l largest investor in Guild bonds in 1936. The published dedication to End of Summer reflects yet another revision made by Behrman during the course of his work on the play. Three Summers, a second-rate murder melodrama, had been transformed in the space of seven months into End of Summer, a successful comedy of manners. Although Behrman wrote in

1 6 2 his Notebook in August, 1935, "Dedicate: For E lz a ," the published inscription expresses most emphatically the debt he owed to his

16^ collaborators: "For May and Harold Freedman."

159Waldau, p. 227.

^*~*New York Times, 23 June 1936, p. 27.

^Waldau, p. 2k0

162E0S Notebook, 18 August 1935, p. 110.

^^Behrman, End of Summer, p. 95* CHAPTER VII

WINE OF CHOICE

The fact is, I tried to do too much in this play. That is really the trouble. I invented more than I needed to invent. Behrman, Wine of Choice Notes, "Act Three," p. 5-

Wine of Choice, Behrman's last play for the Theatre Guild in the

1930's, was also his most unsuccessful dramatic endeavor of that decade.

Using Moliere's The Misanthrope as his literary model, Behrman attempted to dramatize "the anatomy of intransigeance"' in a contemporary setting.

He characterized his modern misanthrope as a U.S. Senator, whose rational plan to remedy the national malaise is pitted against his irrational love for a coquettish starlet, Behrman's "Celimene" in Wine of Choice. After a stormy rehearsal period that featured changes in the cast, directors and script, Brooks Atkinson dissected Behrman's anatomy of intransigeance in the New York Times and found it to be

"three acts of modish tittle-tattle." Robert Coleman of the Daily

Mi rror applied his c r itic a l scalpel to Wine of Choice and correctly prognosticated that "the patient" would "not survive long past the

Wine of Choice Notes, 5 October 1936, S. N. Behrman Papers, Wisconsin State H istorical Society, Madison, Wisconsin, p. 130. (Here­ after cited as WOC Notes.)

^New York Times, 22 February 1938, p. 18.

270 271

Guild's subscription limit.Behrman's notes for Wi ne of Choi ce document the anatomy of a th eatrical disaster.

Literature often depicts Fate as the instrument of doom: Behrman believed that he was fated to write Wine of Choice. On June 19, 1936, he inscribed "Misanthrope" on the f ir s t page o f the notebook for his next play and transcribed some e a rlie r notes for the s c rip t from his d iary. His thoughts on employing The Misanthrope as a lite ra ry model were allied with his desire to use Dr. Rudolf Kommer as the model for a dramatic characterization. Koimier's primary professional activity consisted of serving as Max Reinhardt's theatrical representative in

America: his principal avocation, however, was counseling his friends on their marriages and divorces. Behrman reflected on the dramatic potential of both The Misanthrope and Kommer in his recollection of a conversation with Harold Clurman, one of the founders of the Group

Theatre:

Clurman told me about Moliere's position in society and the stratification of the society and the opportunity this afforded of crystallizing Moliere's Misanthrope--he said immense contemporary documentation. Frankly inspired by Moliere. Curiously enough, for the second time the Group is coming to me with a suggestion that I do something which I have had for some time in tra in — the unemployed kids in End of Summer was the f ir s t . . . . You can, as Clurman suggests, use this as a panoramic purview. Even he suggested misanthrope not necessarily principal character. Kommer would probably emerge as p rin cip al.

Behrman noted a similar consultation with the Austrian director Berthold

V ie r t e l:

^New York Daily Mirror, 22 February 1928.

\/0C Notes, 29 May 1936, pp. 1-2. I l l

Curious happening with V iertel on the train from San Fran­ cisco: ta lk ranged to Kommer and he said: "You ought to do him in a play—absolutely--you have already done 'Tartuffe1 (Rice: End of Summer) now you must do the snob." He went on on this— curious confluence— feel need imperative—an inevitable mandate from a ll sorts of marginal influences to do this n ext-- . . . Confluence: Clurman, V ie r t e l.5 £ Behrman instructed himself to "get Moliere at once and read" and he subsequently reviewed the character relationships in The Misanthrope.

The title of Moliere's play alludes to his characterization of a malcontent, Alceste, whose obsession with social hypocrisy is heightened throughout the action of the play by the d u p lic ity of Celimene, a coquettish widow whom Alceste loves. Celimene's amorous adventures

include flirtations with two coxcombs who eventually discover her' emotional infidelity and forsake her. Despite his admitted ambivalence toward Celimene and his in tellectu al b e lie f in the absurdity of the match, Alceste persists in his passionate desire to marry her. He

resolves to remedy his growing misanthropy by abandoning the hypocrit­

ical mores of Parisian society for a life of relative solitude in the country, and he asks Celimene to jo in him. The prospects of m arital

fidelity and social seclusion are anathema to Celimene, but lacking any

romantic a lte rn a tiv e s , she consents to marry Alceste as the end of the

play.

Behrman combined the Alceste-Celimene relationship in The Misan­

thrope wi th his preliminary characterization of Rudolf Kommer and

5 |b id ., 6 June 1936, p. 3. V ie rte l's wife was Salka V ie rte l, who was Behrman's collaborator on three screenplays for Greta Garbo; Queen Christi na, Anna Karenina, and Two-Faced Woman.

6lbid., 19 June 1936, p. 2. 273 concluded that his contemporary version of M oliere's play would feature

Kommer's manipulation of a love match between a modern malcontent and a heartless coquette.7 He resolved to characterize the malcontent as a politician, and he instructed himself to "make the satiric point that nowadays the misanthrope goes against the current sufficiently to be conservative— that the tide has turned so that a courageous misanthrope

is not liberal or even radical, but is courageous enough to refute both O of these camps." In August, 1936, Behrman received "a dispatch from

London about Denis Johnston's new play / Storm Song / on the making of a film ."^ He .subsequently adopted the plot m otif of Johnston's Storm

Song for his own scenario and depicted his modern "Celimene" as an aspiring film star. The final ingredient that Behrman added to the

Misanthrope-Kcmmer-Storm Song nexus was a thematic emphasis on the

importance of free w ill. He wrote of his Celimene:

Yes. Celimene is developing as a result of the film venture—as a result of her having caught on, she becomes independent . . . and this independence gives her a taste— gives her a taste— choice choice choice— her f ir s t exercise in independence— the wine of i t . . . • •in the wine of choice, the switch in her from subjection.

Behrman reviewed M oliere's Celimene in lig h t of his additional emphasis

on "the wine of choice" and concluded: "The fact that her independence

imbues her with the heady wine of choice is a point to make in a modern

^ Ib id ., 2k June 1936, p. 6.

8 1bid., 5 July 1936, p. 23.

^ Ib id ., l*f August 1936, p. 79.

1° lb id - , 3 July 1936, p. 20. 27 4 play in contrast with my predecessor."^ He la te r observed that his dramatic departure from the direction of The Misanthrope influenced the development of his contemporary misanthrope: " I t 's a modern version of the misanthrope— that of a ll people he should be in love with Celimene

is his tragedy . . . this is where your heavy emphasis must come— on I O this tragedy of preference."1^

Dr. Rudolf Kommer's social circle provided Behrman with a proto­ type for one layer of the stratified society that a contemporary political misanthrope might investigate and abandon. In the midst of the depres­ sion, Kommer allegedly succeeded in being one of the most indolent representatives of the very idle rich. Samuel Hopkins Adams described

Kommer as "an inexplicable person, who lived o ff the fat of many lands without a basis of support in any reckonable way commensurate with his scale of living."13 Kommer occupied a suite of rooms at the Hotel

Ambassador in New York City from 1933 u n til his death a t the age of f i f t y - f i v e in 1 9 4 3 -^ His term of employment as Max Reinhardt's

American agent was limited to two seasons in New York: Reinhardt

revived his production of Vollmoeller's The Mi racle at the Century

Theatre in 1924 and staged a season of plays (including A Midsummer

Night's Dream, Everyman, and Danton's Death) in 1927-28. In 1933,

11 Ib id ., 5 July 1936, p. 23.

1^1 b id ., 6 October 1936, p. 131-

l^A. Woollcott (New York: Reynal & Hitchcock, 1945), p* 292.

^New York Times, 29 March 1943, p. 16. 275

Alexander Woollcott celebrated, without solving, the problem of recon­ ciling Kommer1s luxurious life style with his apparent indolence in a

New Yorker article, "The Mysteries of Rudolfo." Woollcott observed:

There has been no Reinhardt season in New York for the past six years. Yet each year, for no v is ib le reason, Kommer arrives in the late fall and deposits his duffle at the Ambassador. Every day in the week except Wednesday— when he has to give Mrs. Vincent As tor her German lesson--you will find him ensconced at the Colony Restaurant, playing host to a group invariably graced by one or more of the loveliest ladies of our time. And, except in the summer, when he must d ire c t the social l i f e of the Salzburg Festival from his persona] eyrie in Schloss Leopoldskron, Kommer's table at the Colony is vacant only because he is ruling over a similar table at the Ritz in London or at Peltzer's in Berlin. And always these, his friends and guests, are united in a common wonder. When his back is turned, they clutch at one another, each employing a stage whisper for the single question: "What does Kommer do for a liv in g ? " * ^

W oollcott's reported query remained unanswered in his a r tic le , but he provided many d etails of Kommer's background that Behrman later employed for his characterization of "Binkie Niebuhr" in Wine of Choice.

Woollcott continued:

His callin g card announces, to the thinly veiled distaste of all butlers, that he is Rudolf K. Kommer of Czernowitz. Why "Czernowitz?" And why "K"? Well, in 1887 he was born of Jewish stock in Czernowitz in the Duchy of Bukowina, (Austria) and, a fte r the Treaty of St.-Germain was ra tifie d , he woke up with considerable irritation to find himself a Roumanian. . . . It seems that on the Continent the very name Czernowitz has comic overtones. Like Yonkers or Kalamazoo. It is also a good setting for Jewish jokes. In the music-hall humor of M ittel-Europa, it blends the functions of Oshkosh and Arverne. . . . Then there is the "K." It stands fo r Katchen. It seems there is in London a Viennese cafe of which the familiar is a singularly surly cat. D aily, the fa t Austrian proprietor would seek to appease it . "Ah, Katchen, Katchen," he would say (that being his curious Viennese way of saying "Kitty, Kitty"),

^The New Yorker, 18 March 1933, pp- 20-21. 276

"it iss useless for you to park and crowl." And one after­ noon it befell at a rehearsal of The Miracle, when Kommer was scolding everyone in the cast, that the Madonna shook her finger at him and said, "Ah, Katchen, Katchen, it iss useless for you to park and crcwl;" So he stopped parking and crowling, the rehearsal broke up in disorder, and he has been Katchen ever since. Katchen to Lady Diana, to Iris Tree, to T i l l y Losch, to Grace Moore, to Ina C laire, to Rosamond Pinchot, to Ruth Draper, to Lillian Gish, to Alice Obolensky, to Elizabeth Bergner, to Eleanora von Mendelssohn— indeed, to a ll the fa ir ladies whom he, in appalling Tyrolean costume, has ever welcomed on the p la t­ form of the Salzburg Bahnof. Katchen to a ll the friends there and here whom he has deftly assisted with their elopements and th e ir divorces, whom he has helped into jobs and solvency or out of ja il and hock. But these are his avocations.

Behrman focussed on Kommer's avocations for his characterization of

Binkie Niebuhr in Wine of Choice. He asked himself: "What charming and unreal nexus could K be involved in that he's trying to work out, which he does work out, and which is quite d e lig h tfu l and im probable."^

Behrman subsequently invented a nexus between Binkie Niebuhr and "WiIda

Doran," the counterpart of Moliere's Celimene in Wine of Choice. Wilda

Doran became Niebuhr's protege in Behrman's play, and the Kommer char­ acter is depicted deftly assisting his charge with her film career and her romantic alliances with three male characters: the misanthrope (a

U. S. Senator), the film 's producer, and a young Communist n o velist.

Behrman attempted to invent details that disguised the fact that

Niebuhr was based on Kommer, but he encountered some d if f ic u lt y in that endeavor and noted: "The trouble is— K's actual lif e is perfect for

l6 lb id ., pp. 23-24-.

^WOC Notes, 27 June 1936, p. 11. 277 what I want— I couldn't invent anything as g o o d . "18 Behrman asked himself, "How are you going to get extra material about K without being too close?" and he emphatically concluded, "You can. And if you are too close, I don't c a r e ." ^ Behrman's fin al characterization of Niebuhr is so close to Woollcott's profile of Rudolf Kommer (Woollcott also played Niebuhr in Wine of Choice) that "Katchen's" friends must easily have recognized Niebuhr's prototype. Niebuhr emerged as a Jewish matchmaker from Chupolpik, Lithuania, who is "too busy straightening 20 out his friends' love affairs and disasters" to concern himself with any more conventionally significant occupation. One of the minor characters in Wine of Choice suggests that Niebuhr substitute "Rosedale"

21 for the name of his birthplace, "Chupolpik," a detail that resembles

Woollcott's equation of "Czernowitz" and "Yonkers" in "The Mysteries of

Rudclfo." Niebuhr's variegated activities in Wine of Choice include his supervision of the young Communist novelist's career by arranging a luncheon for him with a prospective publisher at Kommer's favorite restaurant in New York, the Colony.22 Behrman further revealed his source for the character of Binkie Niebuhr in his first draft of Wine of Choice: Niebuhr's first name in the manuscript was "Katchen."

l® lb id ., 29 June 1936, p. 12.

^ I b i d . , 27 June 1936, p. 11.

^°Behrman, Wine of Choice (New York: Random House, 1938), act 1, p. 3b.

2l|bid., act 2, sc. 2, p. 160.

22lbid., act 1, p. 71. Behrman developed the character of Niebuhr's protege, Wilda Doran, from an amalgamation of the disparate personalities of M oliere's

"Celimene," the screen actress Merle Oberon, and America's most notorious divorcee of 1936, Mrs. W allis Simpson. M oliere's coquette was depicted as a singularly "merry" widow whose primary occupation in The Misanthrope consisted of manipulating the affections of the malcontent Alceste and two coxcombs. S im ilarly, in Wine of Choice, Behrman's coquette appor­ tioned her romantic attention among three enamored suitors: "Ryder

Gerrard," a misanthropic p o litic ia n ; "Laddy Sears," a wealthy film producer; and "Dow Christophsen," a radical young novelist.

Behrman's addition of the film venture to his dramatic scenario necessitated his characterizing Wilda Doran as a potential screen star.

On July 9, 1936, he noted: "Merle Oberon— dubious semi-Oriental background--there's an idea for Celimene."2^ He continued in his notes:

"Celimens--Javanese ancestry— this Merle Oberon twist swell." Merle

Oberon was born in 1911 in Tasmania, a South Pacific island near

A ustralia. Although she was of Iris h , French and Dutch ancestry, the circumstances of Miss Oberon's b irth and her adolescence in Calcutta,

India, inspired motion-picture consultants to capitalize on her

"exotic" background. She worked as a dance hostess at the Cafe de Paris

in London from 1928 u n til 1932, when London Film Productions offered her a five-year acting contract. In 193^- she negotiated a new contract with

United A rtists in Hollywood, where make-up a rtis ts were instructed to

23W0C Notes, p. 29. 279 emphasize her "Eurasian" features despite the fact that her off-screen appearance did l i t t l e to suggest that background . ^ Behrman subsequently adopted Merle Oberon's screen image for his stage description of Wilda

Doran: "She is lovely, dark, young, what is evasively called 'exo tic'

9 6 in type."^D The nature of the fictional film that Behrman devised as a vehicle for the heroine in Wine of Choice was also derived from his consideration of Merle Oberon as a model: Wilda Doran stars in The

Princess of Java, which will be distributed by the United Artists

27 studio.

Behrman's final comment on Wilda Doran's characterizaton was related to the dramatic analogy that he sought to establish between the

Wilda-Ryder Gerrard relationship in Wine of Choice and the Celimene-

Alceste nexus in The Misanthrope. Moliere's misanthrope resolved to abandon Paris for a simple life in the country. Behrman's "Alceste," a U.S. Senator from New Mexico, similarly decides to abandon the social life of Washington, D. C. and New York City for a career on the local level of p o litic s in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Both Celimene and Wilda

Doran are reluctant to join their respective paramours in lives of social seclusion. Behrman deviated from Moliere's plot, however, by

instilling in Ryder Gerrard a temporary relaxation of his misanthropic temperament. For the f i r s t d ra ft of Wi ne of Choi ce, Behrman composed a scene in which Ryder's overwhelming passion for Wilda drives him to

^ L ife , 21 December 1936, pp. 46-49*

26 Behrman, Wi ne of Choi ce, act 1, p. 12.

^7|bid., act 3, p* 183* 280 consider renouncing his p o litic a l prin cip les. He contemplates conform­ ing to WiIda's frivolous life style in order to be near the woman he loves. The detail of Ryder's short-lived despair was derived from

Behrman's reflection on the recent abdication of King Edward VIII of

England. On December 11, 1936, the former Edward VIII announced to his countrymen: "A few hours ago I discharged my last duty as King and

Emperor. . . . I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge my duties as King as I would wish to do without the help and support of the woman I love."2^ The "woman" whom the Duke of Windsor failed to id en tify in his farewell address was, of course, Mrs. Wal1 is-Simpson, an American divorcee. One week a fte r King

Edward's abdication Behrman noted:

Ryder's return to New Mexico--not the first time an emotional fru stratio n has made an a ltr u is tic devotee.' That's a ll it means to him. And true. If Mrs. Simpson were for some reason unavailable, Edward might have, made a good King.'

Behrman referred to Wilda Doran as the source of Ryder's "spiritual abdication," but in the light of recent events he cautioned himself:

"Don't you dare use that word. "3*“*

Behrman's sole model for the character of his misanthrope, Ryder

Gerrard, was Senator Bronson M. Cutting of New Mexico. On July 1, 1936,

Behrman noted: "Misanthrope--! think in B. Cutting you have a perfect

^ New York Times, 12 December 1936, p. 1. 29 WOC Notes, 18 December 1936, p. 63.

3 0 |b id ., 15 December 1936, p. 61. 281 prototype."31 He advised himself to "look up Bronson Cutting,"32 and after researching Cutting's political career, Behrman concluded: "You've got something swell in B. C.— Something quite superb and American— cling to him."33

Bronson M. Cutting was born in Oakdale, Long Island, on June 23,

1888. He was the son of O livia Peyton Murray and W illiam Bayard Cutting, a wealthy civil service commissioner. Immediately after his graduation from Harvard University in 1910, Bronson Cutting migrated from New

England to Santa Fe, New Mexico, where he subsequently purchased the

Santa Fe Daily newspaper and a Spanish weekly, El Nuevo Mexicano. A fter serving as a m ilita ry attache in the American Embassy in London during the f ir s t World War, Cutting returned to New Mexico and used his news­ papers to endorse the gubernatorial campaign of Richard C. D illo n , a

Republican. Governor D illon rewarded Cutting's e ffo rts in 1927 by appointing him to the Senate seat vacated by the death of Andrieus

Jones, a Democrat. In 1928 Cutting won an easy election for a fu ll term and served in the Senate u n til his death in an airplane crash in

May, 1935-34

Behrman's primary source for the details of Cutting's career was a chapter e n title d "Cutting: A Blue-Blooded Buccaneer" in Roy Tucker's

3^Ib id ., p. 16.

32 Ibid.

33 ib id ., 12 August 1936, p. 77-

3^New York Times, 7 May 1935, p. 282

Sons of the Wild Jackass.35 Behrman quoted lib e ra lly from Tucker's text

in his notes for Wine of Choice and transformed Tucker's commentary into descriptive dialogue concerning Ryder Gerrard. Tucker wrote of Cutting:

"He is reserved, almost shy in manner, yet he can face down the most overbearing bully with calm words that cut like whips.Behrman's corresponding stage description of Ryder Gerrard read:

He has acquired the manner of heartiness with people, a recluse who has learned gregariousness. Antagonism strikes from him a zestful assurance; only when he is alone or with a very close intimate does he permit himself to be shadowed with the pale cast of misgiving.37

Tucker termed Cutting a "dilettante politician;"^ Binkie Niebuhr described Ryder in Wine of Choice as a "d ile tta n te on the fringes of

politics."39 Tucker elaborated on the nature of Cutting's education and unpredictable political affiliations:

He is the suave and assured efflorescence of Groton, Harvard, travels, and wide reading in h alf a dozen languages. . . . This Harvard aesthete bought the only newspaper in Santa Fe soon a fte r he arrived freshfrom college in 1910. A fter the war he ran a Spanish editio n . . . . He first came to the Senate by appointment to fill a vacancy. . . . The Republican Governor accorded this f l i t t i n g honor in return for a gener­ ous campaign contribution . . . and named him to the Senate seat vacated by the death of a Democrat. . . . One year la te r, the old-tim ers of both parties were v ir tu a lly stand­ ing on their heads. The unpredictable maverick switched back to the Democrats, even though he occupied a Senate seat as a Republican.' . . . Believing both old parties to be rotton with reaction, yet he controls one of the

3 5 (Boston: L. C. Page, 1932).

3 6 |b id ., p. 199-

3 7 Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 1, p. *t0.

3®Tucker, p. 219-

^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 1, p. h i. 283

tig h test machines in the country— one, it is asserted, which reaches into Democratic ranks and has already segre­ gated the liberal sheep from the conservative goats as he would separate them nationally.

Behrman delineated an unmistakable portrait of Bronson Cutting in his corresponding exposition of Ryder Gerrard:

RYDER: I know more about New Mexico than any man in the s ta te — than any man in America. I can speak th e ir languages— a ll 57 varieties of them ...... I am about to be appointed by a Republican Governor to succeed a Democratic Senator. I helped the Governor get elected and he's coming along in fine s tyle, but he's scared to death of me. I own a paper in Santa Fe and a Spanish weekly. I've got the Democrats guessing, too. They're all afraid that after the regular election, I'll become an independent— and vote according to my own ideas — which I certain ly w i l l ...... I want to divorce conservatism from reaction— to give back the term its proper meaning. We must be ready when the time comes to substitute policy for makeshift. . . . Above a ll we must make it clear that the people of our class are not remote from the conditions of human suffering.

In 1929, Senator Cutting launched a drive against the customs censorship on books. His chief rival in the subsequent debate was

Senator Smoot of Utah, who upheld the Comstock Law of 1884 that pro­ hibited the importation of "obscene" pictures, sculpture, and books.

Tucker recalled an encounter between Cutting and Smoot that occurred

in the Senate chambers in October, 1930:

Smoot brought an armful of the dangerous volumes into the chamber with him, a ll conspicuously marked at the obscene passages, "the reading of these books," he began, "would so disgust Senators that they would never dream of agreeing to the amendment of the Senator from New Mexico. You need

^Tucker, pp. 19 8 , 201, 217, 219-

^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 1, pp. 45, 47. 28b

only read a page or two to know how damnable they are." Whereat, before tittering galleries—Smoot has been unable to obtain a secret session—Senator after Senator marched up, selected a volume, and started to explore. Mr. Cutting was well armed against the counterattack. He pointed out that the United States Customs Court had already decided that books could be barred only on consideration of their enti re ty .

Behrman incorporated Tucker's discussion of Cutting's battle against censorship (and in d ire c tly acknowledged Tucker as his lite ra ry source) in a second-act scene in Wine of Choice:

WILDA: Gentlemen--Senator GerrardJ TRAUB: Ah.' The Son of the Wild Jackass, the Messiah of the Millennium! (Shakes hands--bows.) Hail to the new Senator.' LADDY: What a s t ir he's made. TRAUB: S tir, who made a s tir? RYDER: Among other things, I've been fighting your b attle s , Leo, the censorship. WILDA: I read that. You had the elderly Senators reading Joyce's Ulysses. TRAUB: Well, it 's no d u ller than the Congressional Record. ^

Behrman heightened the romantic and ideological tension in Wi ne of Choi ce with his characterization of "Dow Christophsen," a Communist novelist whose emotional affection for Wilda Doran and political d isaffection for democracy form the basis for a dramatic c o n flic t with the character of Senator Gerrard. Behrman's selection of traits for

Christophsen emerged from his consideration of three prototypes for the character: the American novelists John Dos Passos and John Steinbeck, and the radical playwright of the Group Theatre, C liffo rd Odets. On

June 14, 1936, Behrman noted:

^Tucker, pp. 212-13-

^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 2, sc. 1, pp. 110-11. 285

You've never had a radical of any real stature in a play-- Odets— . . . Some austere kind of artist--Dos Passos—why not?--wouldn1t it be wonderful if he were Odets--and his own crisis as an artist--knows it isn't characteristic or right but there it i s . ^

The "crisis" that Behrman alluded to in his notes was probably

Odets's recent desertion of his position as the Group Theatre's resident playwright for a career as a screenwriter in Hollywood. Odets had had a remarkably productive year with the Group Theatre in 1935: Wa i t ? ng for Lefty was produced in January, followed by Awake and Sing in

February, Ti 11 the Day I Die in March, and Paradise Lost in December.

In 1936, "for the purposes of p u b lic ity , Odets wrote a rather amusing and naive biographical piece"^5 that explicates the nature of the a rt is tic crisis that Behrman mentioned in his notes for Wine of Choice.

Odets examined his dilemma as a successful proletarian playwright:

The young writer comes out of obscurity with a play or two. Suppose he won't accept the generous movie o ffers. Why, that means he's holding out for more. Suppose he accepts--an ingrate, rat, renegade. If he won't wear evening clothes, that's only because he's trying to be different. But when he wears them, you may be sure he's turned capitalist over­ night. If he's written two plays about the same kind of people, everyone knows that that's all he can write about. But when he writes about a different class, he is told to go back where he came frcm and stick to his cast (or caste). He gets party invitations and when he won't accept he's too serious. But when you see him at a party or a bar, you knew a ll the time he was a playboy. Suppose he rapidly follows one play with another, why he's writing "quickies".' But if they come further apart, it's a sure sign he's already written out.

Notes, p. k.

^ H aro ld Clurman, The Fervent Years (New York: Harcourt, Brace & Jovanovich, 1975), P* l£S^ 286

I f the reviewers praise him Tuesday, it's only because they're gentle, quixotic fellows. But watch them tear him apart on Wednesday! . . . The young w rite r is now ready for a world cruise. °

Clurman continued: "Odets was now ready for a world cruise. For a New

York playwright this means almost inevitably Hollywood."^ |n January,

1936, Odets accepted a contract from MGM at a salary of $3,000 per week and moved to Beverly Hills, California, where he remained until July,

1937- Odets's tenure in Hollywood (construed by many as a betrayal of the p ro le ta ria t) coincided with the term of Behrman's composition of

Wine of Choice. Although Behrman subsequently disguised his consider­ ation of Odets by delineating Dow Christophsen as a novelist, he included a line of descriptive dialogue that alluded to Odet's predic­ ament. In the second act of Wine of Choice, the screenwriter "Leo

Traub" says of Christophsen: "Chris is one of those high and mighty proletarian novelists who'd give their eyeteeth for a contract in

Ho 11 ywood.'

Behrman supplemented his notes on the novelist John Dos Passos with observations on John Steinbeck as a model for Dow Christophsen.

He equated Christophsen's sojourn in the company of the avowed mater­

ialists Binkie Niebuhr and Wilda Doran with a hypothetical relocation

of "John Steinbeck in Long Is la n d ,a n d he added the detail that

^Quoted by Clurman, p. 168.

^ 7 1b id ., p. I 6 9 .

^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 2, sc. 1, p. 114.

**9W0C Notes, 8 July 1936, p. 2 7 . 287

"Steinbeck is succumbing to the charm of these people."5° In October,

1936, Behrman reviewed his notes on Dos Passos and suggested to himself:

"Why don't you make Chris really like Dos Passos and make a point of it." -^ Behrman eventually amalgamated the characteristics of both novelists' works in his exposition of Christophsen's two novels in Wi ne of Choice. He included an indirect reference to Steinbeck's literary examination of Mexican-Arnericans in Tort ilia Flat (1935) by delineating his fictional author's first novel as a study of share croppers in the

South. Christophsen's second novel, which Behrman depicted as a work-

in-progress in Act Two of Wine of Choice, became a satiric expose of the

idle rich, an allusion to Dos Passos's impressionistic portraits of selected members of the leisured class in The Big Money (1935)-

Behrman turned to the writings of Thomas Mann, Joseph Wood Krutch,

Hamilton Fish Armstrong, and M. Strutters Burt for the raw material of the p o litic a l rhetoric in Wine of Choice. In September, 1937, he advised himself to reread the "Thomas Mann p ie c e " ^ that had appeared in the

New York Times in August, 1937- In his essay "Standards and Values,"

Mann had proposed a "conservative revolution" in terms that essentially

restated the philosophy of liberalism. He noted that the "revolution

is conservative to the extent that it seeks to preserve whatever has

hith erto contributed to the dignity of mankind."53 Mann's essay became

50lb id ., 11 July 1936, p. 37-

Ib id ., 19 October 1936, p. 1 56.

5 2 |b id ., 17 September 1937, P- 29*

~^New York Times, 15 August 1937, sec. 2, p. 1. 288 the basis of Ryder Gerrard's "conservative" opposition to Christophsen's

Marxist criticism of their wealthy host, Laddy Sears. Gerrard echoed

Mann in his rebuttal:

You make me feel suddenly that there is something marvelously worth preserving in Laddy. Against you and your kind I would preserve not his indolence but his c h iv a lry --n o t his indifference but his generosity.-*4'

In October, 1936, Behrman reminded himself to "look up Krutch on liberalism— N.Y.T. editorial."55 Joseph Wood Krutch has asserted in his essay:

The Communist type of mind is d o c trin aire. . . . It puts its faith in a tight, internally consistent "logic," a logic which lends its e lf to a very neat formulation on the purely conceptual level. The liberal may feel a little lost on the purely conceptual level when he is asked to compare the compromises and failu res of a working democracy with the neat perfections in the blueprints for a Communist paradise. But considerations . . . of human experience lead him to doubt that a society of e q u ality, liberty and plenty is likely to grow out of the Communist's blueprints.

Behrman consequently imbued Ryder Gerrard with Krutch's liberal mental­

ity and exposed Dow Christophsen's doctrinaire logic in a third-act argument about Chris's rejection of Wilda Doran:

RYDER: Why don't you marry Wilda? CHRIS: Marriage isn't i n my scheme. RYDER: Obviously she is in love with you. Deeply in love with you. Why don't you take her with you? CHRIS: Also not in my scheme. RYDER: Don't you feel anything for Wilda? CHRIS: Yes. I do. . . .

■^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 2, sc. 1, p. ]3b.

« W0C Notes, 28 October 1936, p. 8.

-*^New York Times, 18 October 1936, sec. k, p. 8. 289

RYDER: Nothing about you is so horrifying to me as your rejection of Wilda. You love her but you deny her because she won't f i t into your scheme. You are locked deep in the cold fastnesses of theory--on that surface nothing can take hold, nothing can root, nothing can flow er--neither love nor frie n d ­ ship nor a ffe c tio n . I see now how people like you can condemn to death th e ir best friends — because equally well you can condemn yourselves to love­ lessness, to abnegation, to death. CHRIS: Yes. We can. . . . RYDER: You monopolize truth, you monopolize opinions, you monopolize science and art--also you monopolize the future. CHRIS Yes. RYDER The final certitude. CHRIS Yes. RYDER I'll stick to the skepticism of Democracy.

In January, 1937, Behrman transferred three passages from Hamilton

Fish Armstrong's We or They into his notebook for Wine of Choice: ^

Moral antinomy is s p littin g the world, not as some say into three camps—democratic, Communist, Fascist— . . . but into two more general yet distinct worlds, in one of which personal freedom s t i l l lives, and in the other of which it is dead.

Between the two doctrines there is no compromise. Our society or theirs. We or they.

Here, not absolute freedom, certainly, but great and precious freedom— freedom to think, to believe, to d is ­ believe, to speak, to w i l l , to choose. There, not some

freedom, but n o n e . 5 9

Behrman used Armstrong's rhetoric to c ry s ta lliz e the moral antinomy between Ryder Gerrard and Dow Christophsen, and he referred to the th ird -a c t confrontation between the Senator and the Communist as his

57Be hrman, Wine of Choice, act 3, pp. 203-206 passim.

5&W0C Notes, 16 January 1937, p- 10; 18 January 1937, P- 13*

59 (New York: Macmillan, 1937), PP- 80, 103, 10. 290

"We or They scene.B ehrm an's treatment of Armstrong's text is manifest in Ryder's assertion that Chris's brand of Communist sentiment

"is the most perverse of all because it ignores the most powerful impulse in people— to be free— to choose." The argument continues:

RYDER: Against you and your kind, I shall struggle to keep a liv e a world in which choice w ill s t i l l be pos­ sible—without dictation. CHRIS: Free choice doesn't exist. RYDER: We must go on the assumption that it does — that we may defeat even death. That is the glory of man. CHRIS: That's rhetoric. . .

Behrman's final source of material for the political dialogue in

Wine of Choice was M. Strutters Burt's Escape From America. Burt's generalization, "All revolutions in the beginning are started by £ o disgusted aristocrats," 3 became the basis for Binkie Niebuhr's explan­ ation of the blue-blooded Senator's interest in politics:

The anatomy of rebellion among those who have everything would make a fascinating study. The most penetrating are aristocrats to whom society has given everything or intellectuals to whom the accident of their endowment has given everything. . . . There are even people like Ryder who are under the illu s io n that bribing Spaniards in New Mexico is more exalted than bribing saloon-keepers in New York. It may be cheaper but re a ily --is it lo ftie r? As I say, these phenomena are strange. ^

The three remaining male characters in Wine of Choice were notably apolitical. As a model for the characterization of his neophyte film

6oWOC Notes, 11 A pril 1937, p. 14. £} 1 Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 3, pp. 207-208.

^2W0C Notes, 19 August 1936, p. 8 7 .

^(New York: Scribners, 1936), p. 2 7 .

^Behrm an, Wine of Choice, act 1, pp. 48-49- producer, Laddy Sears, Behrman selected a distinguished member of

America's aristocracy, Payne Whitney. Behrman's initial consideration of Whitney as a prototype for Sears was recorded in his notes on July 1,

1936: "Patron is K's frien d . Patron and Celimene— Payne Whitney. Show the niceness of that crowd. Gives you something to think about. Nice bunch. P. Whitney."^-* Payne Whitney was the son of financier William

C. Whitney and Flora Payne Whitney, the daughter of Ohio Senator Henry

B. Payne and a s is te r of Colonel Oliver Payne, the treasurer of the

Standard Oil Company. Payne's brother, Harry Payne, married Gertrude

Vanderbilt, daughter of Cornelius Vanderbilt I I . Payne's bride was

Helen Hay, daughter of John Hay, historian, diplomat and Secretary of

State under Presidents McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt and, before that, private secretary to Abraham Lincoln. Payne Whitney was a noted finan­ cier and sportsman. He maintained a racing stable at "Greentree," his three-million-dollar estate in Manhasset, Long Island. Behrman subsequently set the action of Wine of Choice in Binkie Niebuhr's 66 "modest cottage on the Sears estate on Long Island."

Behrman's characterization of Dow Christophsen's uncle, "Charles

Dow Hanlon," was inspired by his use of Payne Whitney as a prototype

for Laddy Sears. When Payne Whitney died in 1927, he le f t an estate valued at 178 m illio n d o llars. 67 Whitney bequeathed $500,000

^ WOC Notes, p. 18. 66 Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 1, p. 3-

67C level and Amory, Who K illed Society? (New York: Harper Brothers, I960), pp. 50if-505. 292 /:q to his close friend Peter Finley Dunne, ° a syndicated columnist known

in the 1890's for his "caustic and witty editorials written in the Irish d ia le c t under the pseudonym 'Mr. D o o l e y '."69 |n June, 1936, Behrman recorded his choice for the character of Christophsen's uncle: "P. F.

Dunne . . . who stopped w riting because of Payne W h i t n e y . "79 Behrman altered the actual d etails of Dunne's inheritance from Whitney in Wi ne of Choice. Although he based Laddy Sears on Payne Whitney, Charles Dow

Hanlon's fictional patron is designated as Laddy's father, Kingdon Sears.

Behrman's exposition of Hanlon as a "professional humorist" who wrote under the pseudonym "Sm iley"^ was derived from his knowledge of Dunne's career. Behrman also included the detail of Payne Whitney's benefaction

to Dunne in Binkie Niebuhr's first-act dialogue with Dunne's counterpart,

Chariie Hanlon:

What would have happened to you, Charlie, i f Kingdon Sears hadn't endowed you so you could go on w riting? That stopped you, d id n 't it? . . . Laddy's father invited you down here for the week-end in 1913 and you haven't been o ff the place si nee.72

Behrman completed his cast of dramatis personae with his character­

ization of "Leo Traub," the screenwriter hired by Laddy Sears to compose

Wilda Doran's starring vehicle, The Princess of Java. Behrman initially

suggested the popular playwrights "/Ben7 Hecht and /Charles^

68New York Times, 25 A p ri1 1936, p. 17-

^Franklin P. Adams, "Mr. Dooley," New Republic, b May 1938, p. 391*

70W0C Notes, 28 June 1936, p. 11.

7^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 1, pp. 11, 8.

7 2 i b i d . , act 1, pp. 8 -9 . 2 9 3

MacArthur"^ as prototypes for the authors of the filmscript, but he later decided that "just Hecht'H be enough."^ He referred to Hecht's

"cynicism" on three occasions in the notes for Leo T r a u b , 7 5 ancj j n t he fin al version of Wine of Choice Ryder Gerrard says to the screenwriter:

"You're a cynic, Leo, and you mustn't be serious about anything."76

Before he completed the preliminary notes for the action of Wine of

Choice, Behrman wrote to Harold Freedman and outlined what he termed the "core, theme and leit-motif" of the play:

What I mean by it (Wine of Choice) is that Wilda, coquette that she is, wants re a lly to taste the wine of choice, that is to say, to be able to pick her destiny, not to have to commit herself on compulsion. I want to make the point that that is what everyone wants re a lly , that anything else is slavery, that in an ideal civilization there would be wine of choice for everybody. I want to show that as between Chris and Ryder, rea lly Ryder prefers the skeptic­ ism of democracy to the certitude of communism because he too, in his own realm, prefers the wine of choice. ! want to give the play a triple erotic line: Laddy, Chris, Ryder a fte r this one g i r l , and not t i l l she is a success through her picture can she decide. I want her to point out truly thaj: Ryder with a ll his in tellectu al honesty is not honest enough to want her to be in this position through his personal passion for h e r . 77

With Freedman's a p p r o v a l , 7® Behrman adhered to that scenario in the f ir s t draft of Wine of Choice.

The f i r s t version of Wine of Choice opens with a short scene between

Binkie Niebuhr and Mrs. Cleo Hackett. Binkie outlines his arrangments for Cleo's divorce and he mentions his current project, a film prospect

73woC Notes, 2 July 1936, p. 19.

?Zf I b i d .

751bid., 2 July 1936, p. 19; 7 July 1936, 26; 14 November 1936, p. 30.

7^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 2, sc. 1, p. 115.

77WOC Notes, 23 October 1936, p. 2.

78t b id . for his protege WiIda Doran. Cleo leaves, and Binki telephones Western

Union. As he dictates a telegram for his friend Abe Krueger, Wilda enters. She has received a telegram from Ryder Gerrard announcing his imminent a rriv a l at the Sears estate. Wilda mentions that she considered meeting Ryder at the a irp o rt, but she decided to consult with Binkie before seeing Ryder, since she suspects that Ryder intends to propose to her. Binkie advises Wilda against marrying Ryder. He urges his charge to assist him in convincing Laddy Sears to produce The Princess of Java, and he instructs Wilda to encourage Sears's incipient affection for her. Their conversation is interrupted by the entrance of Dow

Christophsen, who is looking for his uncle, Charlie Hanlon. After

issuing some vague directions to Hanlon's cottage, Binkie inquires about the reason for Chris's v is it to Long Island. Chris replies that he hopes to find a publisher in New York for his new novel about share­ croppers in the South. Binkie offers to assist him, and he introduces

Chris to Wilda Doran. Chris claims that Binkie's introduction is unnecessary: he was acquainted with Ryder Gerrard in Mew Mexico and has heard Gerrard speak often of Wilda. Laddy Sears enters, and Binkie signals Wilda that he wishes to be left alone with Sears. Wilda escorts

Chris to Hanlon's cottage while Binkie persuades Laddy to produce the

film . Binkie also encourages Laddy to pursue Wilda. He insists that

Wilda is not serious about her a f f a ir with Ryder Gerrard. Ryder then

enters. After greeting Binkie and Laddy and inquiring about Wilda,

Ryder chastises Niebuhr and Sears for th e ir indolence. He informs

them that he expects to be appointed to the Senate, and he asks Laddy

to assume control over his newspaper empire in New Mexico. Laddy declines Ryder's offer and announces his plan to produce a film that was w ritten as a vehicle for Wilda Doran. Wilda returns, and Binkie exits with Laddy. Ryder asks Wilda to marry him, but she rejects his proposal, citing her film prospect with Sears as the rationale for her refusal. When Ryder presses Wilda to accept his o ffe r of marriage, she becomes "cruel to be kind" and claims that Ryder bores her. Ryder exits and Binkie returns. Niebuhr's inquiry about Ryder is interrupted by a phone call from Abe Krueger. Chris enters and reports that Ryder asked him to look a fte r Wilda in his absence. He asks Wilda to c la rify the reason for Ryder's departure, and Wilda closes the f ir s t act with her reply: "He's gone, gone forever--but h e 'll be back.'"

The action of Act Two transpires eight weeks later. Chris is discovered in Binkie's cottage working on the manuscript of his second novel. Wilda enters in a state of excitement precipitated by her preview of The Princess of Java, which is scheduled for a private show­

ing in Sears's screening room later that evening. She invites Chris to attend the private showing, but he c ritic iz e s the content of the film as "escapist." Wilda compares Chris's bluntness to the insensi­ t iv it y of her former husband, a Communist painter employed by the

W. P. A. When Wilda confesses that she is fond of Chris, he discourages her flirtation with the news that Ryder has returned. Binkie then

returns from his sojourn with Abe Krueger in Europe, and he berates

Chris for having occupied his cabin. Niebuhr insults Chris with his sarcastic insinuation that self-professed "radical" novelists should

not accept the gracious hospitality of the "aristocracy," and Chris e x its . Wilda pacifies Binkie, and Niebuhr consents to move into the Big House on the Sears estate. Binkie reminds Wilda that she promised

to seduce Laddy. Laddy enters with Leo Traub, the author of The Princess of Java, and after noting the merits and defects of his screenplay,

Traub exits with Binkie to discuss the final editing of the film . Wilda

fu lfills her vow to Binkie by scheduling an assignation with Laddy after

the film's preview that evening. Ryder then enters. Wilda and Laddy greet the newly-appointed Senator, and after they review Ryder's record

in Congress, Laddy e x its . Ryder confesses that his preoccupation with

Wilda had distracted him from his duties in Washington. He proposes to her again, and when she refuses, Ryder suggests that he should abandon his political career in order to be near her. Wilda advises Ryder to assume the role of "a man of the world" and view th e ir a f f a ir less seriously. Traub enters and summons Wilda to a script conference on the subject of the "Princess of’Java's" virginity. Ryder and Traub clash, and Traub e x its . Wilda kisses Ryder and begs him to w ait for her while

she attends the film conference. After Wilda exits, Ryder closes the

f i r s t scene of Act Two with his despondent exclamation, "Oh God.1 God.1"

The second scene opens a few hours la te r on WiIda's interrogation

of the Japanese servant, Togo, concerning Chris's whereabouts. Chris

enters and Wilda flirts with him again, but Chris advises her to save

her coquettish wiles for someone else. He claims that Long Island is

not his "milieu," and he announces his plan to leave immediately for

Russia. Wilda begs Chris to kiss her "goodbye," and their farewell

develops into a passionate embrace. At that point, Charlie Hanlon

wanders into the cottage looking for Laddy. Hanlon e x its , and Chris

instructs Wilda to go upstairs to his bedroom. Wilda obeys him, and Chris orders Togo to inform any visitors that he and Wilda "are not in."

Chris exits to join Wilda, and Togo answers a telephone call from Laddy

Sears, who accepts his servant's report that Wilda is not in Charlie's

cabin. Charlie returns and telephones Laddy, but Laddy's butler te lls

Hanlon that Sears w ill return his call la te r. Ryder then enters, and

he initiates a conversation with Hanlon about the quality of Chris's

first novel. When Ryder objects to Hanlon's derision of Chris's talent,

Hanlon responds with the cryptic prediction that Gerrard's admiration

for Chris w ill soon be tested. Hanlon answers a telephone call from

Laddy, and he invites Sears to join the party in Chris's cottage.

Binkie enters reading from a newspaper clipping that recalls Hanlon's

reputation as a newspaper columnist. He informs Ryder that Kingdon

Sears's subsidy of Hanlon doomed the humorist's career. Laddy then

arrives. Hanlon directs th eir conversation away from the subject of

Laddy's film , and he prompts Laddy to inquire about Wilda. Hanlon

casually mentions that Wilda is upstairs with Chris. Binkie perceives

Hanlon's intrigue, and desp:te Niebuhr's effort to divert Laddy, Sears

goes upstairs to retrieve Wilda. Laddy returns with the news that Wilda

was not with Chris, and he convinces Ryder to join him in a search for

her. Gerrard and Sears e x it, and Hanlon praises Laddy's chivalry.

Binkie questions the motive for Hanlon's scheme, and Charlie replies

that he was merely protecting his investment in the Sears family. He

does not want Laddy Sears's fortune to be squandered on a mercenary

coquette. Confident of the success of his plo t, Hanlon e x its . Binkie

remains behind, and Wilda enters from the upstairs bedroom. Binkie

berates his protege for her stupidity in having "lost" Laddy Sears, and 298 he closes the act with his speculation on the expedient romantic alter­ native: "We may have to go back to Ryder.1"

The action of Act Three takes place later that evening. Binkie and

Ryder are discovered conversing in Chris's cottage while Wilda, Laddy, and Traub are attending the private showing of The Princess of Java.

Ryder discusses the nature of his malaise. He is convinced that Wilda loves Laddy, and he has decided to abandon his career in the Senate for a life of seclusion in New Mexico. Binkie attributes Wilda's chronic infidelity to her fear of establishing an emotional commitment. He predicts that Wilda will eventually tire of Laddy and her film career.

Binkie begs Ryder to save Wilda from Chris. He promises to use his influence with Wilda to persuade her to marry Ryder. Wilda enters look­ ing for Chris, and Ryder exits to find Chris for Wilda. Binkie tells

Wilda that Sam Goldwyn of the United Artists studio is interested in distributing The Princess of Java, but Wilda reacts with indifference toward her prospective film career. She confesses that she wants only

Chris. Ryder returns with Chris, and Binkie exits with Ryder. Chris announces his plan to leave the Sears estate immediately. Wilda begs

Chris to take her away with him, but he coldly rejects her profession of love. Wilda exits and Ryder returns. A lengthy political debate ensues that reaffirms Ryder's b e lie f in the pre-eminence of the demo­ c ra tic system. Chris exits and Wilda re-enters. When Ryder asks Wilda why she didn't follow Chris, Wilda states her conviction that her relationship with Chris would prove to be as disastrous as her marriage to Crane. Laddy, Traub, Binkie, and Cleo enter, and they express their enthusiasm for Wilda's performance as "The Princess of Java." Laddy marshals his guests off to a celebration at the Big House, leaving Binkie

Ryder, and Wilda behind. Binkie encourages a reconciliation between

Ryder and Wilda. Ryder admits that Chris's Communist rhetoric has convinced him to revoke his decision to abandon p o litic s . He attests to his b e lie f in the democratic system of "choice" and apologizes to

Wilda for having intellectually denied her the right to a choice of

lovers. Wilda encourages Ryder to pursue his p o litic a l ambitions, and

Ryder exits. Wilda and Binkie then review their prospects and select

Wilda's film career as their most profitable professional alternative.

Wilda exits to jo in her fans at the Big House. Lamenting his role as

"The Eternal Middleman," Binkie telephones Sam Goldwyn as the curtain f a l 1s.79

Behrman completed the f i r s t d ra ft of Wine of Choice on February 3,

1937* Harold Freedman met with Behrman three days la te r to discuss possible script revisions, but Behrman did not begin work on a second version of the play until March 2k, 1 9 37*^ Freedman's major criticism s centered on considerations of dramatic structure. He advised Behrman

to prepare the audience for the third-act confrontation between Chris and Ryder by inserting a second-act scene that exposed their antagonism.

Freedman also instructed his client to introduce the character of Charii 81 Hanlon e a r lie r in the second act.

79w0C Manuscript # 1 , 1 August 1936 - 3 February 1937*

^ WOC Notes, "Second Version-Act Two," 2k March 1937, P» 1» The probable cause of the delay was Behrman's commitment to Amphitryon 38, which was produced by the Guild in November, 1937- 300

Behrman reviewed the second and third acts of Wine of Choice and noted: "It isn't the content of the scenes — it's the order of the

82 scenes . . . the whole structure is cock-eyed." He advised himself to "read the Laddy scene"®^ in Act Two that included Wilda's proposal of an assignation with Sears, and he concluded: "I never really liked

i t — the more I think about it the more I am convinced that I can cut it

814- O U t . " When Behrman composed the second version o f Act Two on A pril 13,

1937, he deleted the Laddy-Wilda scene from the action of the play.

In his second d ra ft of Act Two, Behrman retained the opening scenes that established Chris's occupancy of Binkie's cottage.- He then accommodated one of Freedman's suggestions by introducing the character of Charlie Hanlon. The revised structure features Hanlon's criticism of his nephew's brashness, followed by the entrance of Laddy and Traub.

Ryder then "comes in on the bunch of t h e m " ® 5 for an ensemble scene that

focusses on a discussion of Gerrard's recent appointment to the Senate.

The crowd disperses and Ryder proposes to Wilda, who rejects his o ffer and e x its . Chris returns, and in a new scene with Ryder, he c ritic iz e s

Wilda, Laddy, and Binkie as corrupt specimens of the "leisured class"

that also produced Ryder. Chris exits upstairs and Wilda returns, but

Ryder's attempt at a reconciliation is interrupted by a phone call from

Traub, who summons Wilda to a script conference on the subject of her

Op Ib id ., 8 A pril 1937, P- 9; 28 March 1937, p. 3-

83 Ib id ., 9 April 1937, P* 11* ... . 8U Ibid.

85|bid., 9 April 1937, P- 10. 301

character's virginity. Behrman retained Ryder's despondent exclamation

"Oh God.'" as the curtain line for the revised f i r s t scene of the second act.

On April 17, 1937, Behrman began taking notes on his second version

of Act Three. He noted "Harold Freedman's insistence on origins: Ryder

and Chris; Ryder and W ilda." D Behrman had neglected to explicate

Ryder’s previous relationships with Chris and Wilda in the first draft

of Wine of Choice. He consequently revised the scene between Binkie

and Ryder that opened the third act. Behrman composed additional

dialogue for Ryder wherein the Senator recalled his introduction to

Chris in New Mexico and delineated his f ir s t impression of the young

novelist as "a shy, reticent boy. "^7 Behrman observed further:

This is the point— have him, by thinking of o rig in s, suddenly say— is Wilda in love with Chris?— . . . recognition scene— to make Ryder acutely aware of the relations between Chris and the g i r l . . . . Harold Freedman's suggestion— B i nkie nd Ryder are both Pygmalions--Binkie is more re a l- is t ic .8

Freedman's "insistence on origins" prompted Behrman to transform the

emphasis of the scene from Niebuhr's selfish manipulation of Ryder to

a rapprochement between the two men. The f ir s t - d r a f t scene focussed on

Binkie's self-interested plea for Ryder's assistance in saving Wilda from

Chris. Behrman's inserted exposition altered the direction of the

scene:

8 6 1bid., "Act Three," 17 April 1937, p. 17-

87 Ib id ., 19 April 1937, p. 22.

8 8 lb id ., 18 April 1937, P- 19; 22 April 1937, p. 23. 302

BINKIE: I want you to help me save her from Chris. RYDER: Quixotism has its limits, Binkie. I'm not a chronic Salvationist. BINKIE: Mysterious creature, isn't she? RYDER: She's extraordinarily—consistent, isn't she? Wilda since I've know her—Wilda when I first met her—desperate over Crane— BINKIE: That g irl has an ungovernable impulse to s e lf- destruction. . . . RYDER: I am naive--.' BINKIE: The trouble is you ju s t ca n 't imagine people like Chris. . . . RYDER: I remember the morning Chris walked into my o ffic e in Santa Fe with a le tte r from Charlie. He was so hesitant, so shy. He showed me some of his work— I was surprised and delighted. . . . I called him back, put him up at my house and gave him a job on my paper. . . . BINKIE: Remember he is a revo lu tio n ist. RYDER: And I hoped to make him a d iscip le. What is it in me that urges me to remold what is beyond my capacity even to touch? BINKIE: Ah.' There's no vanity like the Pygmal ion-vani ty. RYDER: (Suddenly seeing BINKIE in a new lig h t) You're afflicted too, aren't you, Binkie? BINKIE: In my own way, my dear Ryder, I try to re-create the world. I try to make a world in which instinct is subordinate to reason. With Wilda I seem to have chosen the most unpromising ma te r i a 1. „ RYDER: It appears that our dilemma is identical.1

Behrman reviewed the action of Act Three in light of his revision of the opening scene and concluded that his added exposition of an in itia l a f f in it y between Ryder and Chris and his establishment of a rapport between Ryder and Binkie necessitated a change in the subsequent dramatization of Ryder's romance with Wilda. He noted: "The trouble is, the contest between Chris and Ryder is unequal because you don't feel Ryder ever had a chance with Wilda— the Alceste influence was bad

^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 3, pp. 176-178 passim. 303 qn here—scrape it out."-7 The revised opening scene consequently functioned as Ryder's considered recognition of the fu tility of his Pygmalion-

Galatea relationship with Wilda despite Binkie's assertion that their a ffa i r is salvable.

In the second version of Act Three, Ryder's recognition scene is followed by the mass entrance of the audience from The Princess of Java preview. Binkie interrupts the ensemble discussion of the film with his surprising announcement that Ryder and Wilda are engaged to be married. Charlie predicts that Binkie will soon be arranging his protege's divorce, and he exits. Laddy and Traub return to the Big

House. Ryder then chastises Binkie for his unauthorized announcement of a fictional "engagement," and he thwarts Binkie's plan by urging

Wilda to marry Chris. Chris, however, refuses to be forced into marriage. Binkie then acknowledges his own fa ilu re as "The Eternal

Middleman" and e x its . Chris apologizes to Ryder fo r having stolen

Wilda a^/ay from him, and a fte r Wilda asks to be le ft alone with Chris,

Ryder e x its . Wilda and Chris then argue about his decision to leave for Russia alone, and Wilda e x its . Ryder returns for the "We or They" scene, and Chris leaves. Binkie returns, and Ryder tells Niebuhr that

Chris is gone forever. When Binkie proffers a reconciliation with

Wilda, Ryder restates his belief in the absurdity of a match with the

coquette. He announces his decision to return to New Mexico, and he

9 ° I b id ., 23 A pril 1937, p. 2k. 30U

asks Binkie to say "goodbye" to Wilda for him. Ryder e x its . Wilda

returns as Binkie telephones Sam Goldwyn and the curtain falls.

In May, 1937, Harold Freedman submitted the second version of Wine

of Choice to the Board of Managers of the Theatre Guild, who voted to

purchase the scrip t on the strength of th e ir conviction that "Behrman

could rewrite it so brilliantly during rehearsal that it would ultimately emerge as a good pi ay."9^ Lawrence Langner and Theresa Helburn were

elected to the production team for Wine of Choice. Philip Moeller

accepted the assignment as d irecto r and persuaded the Guild to cast

Miriam Hopkins, a Samuel Goldwyn protege, as Wilda Doran, the Goldwyn

protege in Wine of Choice.93 Rumor had i t that Moeller also wanted the

film celeb rity Herbert Marshall for the role of Ryder Gerrard.9^

Behrman's notes confirm the fact that the Guild considered casting

Marshall in the part of the liberal S e n a t o r . 95

Lawrence Langner s o lic ite d the advice of Lee Simonson, Moeller,

and Helburn, and early in July, 1937, he presented Behrman with a

summary of their suggestions for script revisions. The Guild's major

criticisms focussed on Behrman's characterizations of Ryder Gerrard and

Wilda Doran. Langner noted:

91 Ibid., "Act Three Rewrite," 27 April 1937»

9^Lawrence Langner, The Magic Curtain (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1931), p. 266.

•^Roy S. Waldau, Vintage Years of the Theatre Guild: 1928-1939 (Cleveland, Ohio: Case Western Reserve Press, 1972), p. 279* ~

9^Ibid., p. 280.

95w0C Notes, "Third Version," 19 July 1937, P* 5- 305

Ryder must be made more interesting, . . . more to leran t, more aristocratic. He must be shown as tolerant in his attitude to Wilda—and also to Chris—while Chris must be shown as intolerant towards the society he intends to study. . . . Ryder must be more charming, much more w itty than he is at present. He should be a man who has gone through all international society and found it footling. Think of Herbert Marshall playing it—and you will think of a man at home equally in London, Paris, Long Island, and New Mexico. No need to repeat what we have said about Wilda. . . . She must be made more sympathetic, less calculating, with a motivation that we can understand and approve. She must not be a geld digger and a bitch.-'

The Guild's criticism entailed considerable revisions that required

Behrman's recasting Chris in the role of the misanthrope and diminishing

Wilda's resemblance to Celimene, M oliere's heartless coquette. When he

began work on the third version of the script on July 9, 1937? Behrman

advised himself tc "do the play as you see it . . . and if not, let it

go. It is true I had the misanthrope-Celimene idea in mind— disabuse

your mind now of that concept and see what y o u 'll g e t." 97 On July 15

he reiterated: "The truth is, you started with the notion of The

Misanthrope—you must disabuse your mind of this as far as Ryder is

concerned and as far as Wilda is concerned because Wilda was done as a

counterpart for Celimene."9® Four days la te r he reminded himself:

"Remember, disabuse Mi santhrope—write it for Herbert Marshall and

Miriam Hopkins."99

96 — — 3 Ib id ., "Lawrence Langner Notes," / July, 1937 /> pp- 1-3 passim.

97lbid., p. 1.

981bid., p. 2.

99 Ibid., p. 5. On July 15, 1937, Behrman began "rew riting the scrip t from the very beginning."^00 He diminished the size of Cleo Hackett's role in the first scene of the play. Wilda intrudes on Niebuhr's conversation and announces the news that she is "photogenique." After Cleo leaves, Wilda informs Binkie of Ryder's imminent a rriv a l at the Sears estate. Behrman revised Wilda's a ttitu d e toward Ryder to accommodate Langner's sugges­ tion that "she appreciates Ryder and would probably prefer marrying him to the others, but will not make up her mind until she has her free­ dom. |n he,- in it ia l scene with Binkie, Wilda accordingly confesses that she loves Ryder, but she resolves to be "hard and casual and calculating"^0^ with him in order to escape the false security of marriage. Binkie presses Wilda to encourage Laddy's a ffe c tio n , and

Chris's arrival interrupts their conversation. Behrman retained the f ir s t - d r a f t scenes that exposed, in succession, the incipient careers of Chris, Laddy, and Ryder as a n ovelist, a film producer, and a U. S.

Senator, respectively. He then revised Ryder's first-act proposal to

Wilda. In the original version, Wilda d e lib e ra te ly provoked a scene, hurt Ryder with her claim that he bored her and le f t him. Langner proffered an a lte rn a tiv e : "Here should come Ryder's proposal to her and Wilda's explanation of her desire for independence. Ryder should tell her to go ahead.Behrman incorporated Langner's suggestion,

100lb id ., p. 2.

^ I b i d . , "Langner Notes," / July, 1937_7, p. 1.

^ °^ lb id ., "Act One Rewrite," 27 August 1937*

^ I b i d . , "Langner Notes," / July, 1937_7, p. 3* and he also heeded Langner's recommendation to "dramatize the difference between Chris and Ryder in Act O n e."'^f Chris consequently returns to

Binkie's cottage at the close of the proposal scene between Ryder and

Wilda. The lib e ra l and the Communist then engage in a frien d ly debate about their respective political opinions, and at the end of the scene

Binkie enters, and Wilda escorts Ryder outside to his car. A short scene ensues between Chris and Binkie wherein Niebuhr arranges Chris's interview with a prospective publisher. Wilda returns and invites Chris to accompany her into town. Chris refuses and exits, and the revised act closes with Binkie's admonition that Wilda should divert her attention from Chris and Ryder and concentrate on her film prospect with

Laddy.

Behrman completed the third version of Act One on July 2k, 1937*

He began what he termed a "reshuffle of the last two acts" on the twenty-sixth of July.'®5 jhe original version of the second act opened on Wilda's interrogation of Togo concerning Chris's whereabouts.

Behrman suggested an a ltern ate opening: "Wilda is waiting for Chris— as

Mrs. Frayne opened The Second Man. " ^ ^ In the revised version, Wilda

is consequently discovered reading Chris's diary, which contains his

notes on Wilda, Laddy, Traub, and Binkie as the models for a satiric

portrait of the "leisured class." Chris enters and berates Wilda for

invading his privacy. Wilda criticizes his literary caricature of "the

1 oZf Ibid., p. 1.

1Q5W0C Notes, "Third Version," 26 July 1937, P* 8. aristo cracy," and she compares his disparaging a ttitu d e toward her lif e style with the misanthropy of her f ir s t husband, a Communist painter for the W. P. A. Wilda assures Chris that his impression of her is erron­ eous, and she offers him the opportunity to correct his misconception.

She proposes an assignation between them after the preview of her film that evening, and Chris accepts the offer. Behrman retained the first- draft structure that followed the initial scene between Wilda and Chris:

Binkie returns from Europe, Charlie greets Niebuhr, Laddy enters with

Traub, and Ryder returns as the newly-appointed Senator. Behrman then revised the ensuing scene that included Ryder's second proposal to

Wilda. The original version of the play depicted Ryder's despair and

"s p iritu a l abdication." Behrman decided to "cut the whole idea of

Ryder's conformi ty. " ^ 7 |n t he third d ra ft, according to Langner's prescription, Wilda "stalls on answering Ryder's proposal for two reasons: (l) because Chris has come into the picture and (2) because she is not actually established in her picture career. Of course she gives reason (2) as the only reason.Langner added, "the audience should sense reason (i) as the stronger reason for her s ta llin g

Ryder,"^ 9 and Behrman consequently resolved to "bend the first-scene curtain toward Ryder's suspicion of C hris."H O Behrman ended the revised proposal scene with the second-draft device that motivated

W l b i d .

^ I b i d . , "Langner Notes," / July, 1937_7, p. 2.

1 1b i d.

110W0C Notes, 31 July 1937, p. 10. 309

Wilda's exit to the Big House: Traub summons her to a script conference on the subject of her character's virginity. Behrman then removed some dialogue from the th ird -a c t confrontation scene between Ryder and Chris and inserted the material a fte r Wilda's e x it. Ryder argues with Chris about preserving the basic human dignity of selected members of the

leisured class. Chris exits, and Wilda returns. She inquires about

Chris and runs out of the cottage to search for him. Behrman replaced

the original "Oh my God curtain"^* that communicated Ryder's despair with a revised ending that emphasised Ryder's suspicion about the

relationship between Chris and Wilda:

RYDER: (To himself— his suspicion now a certainty) Chris?— Chris.' . _ CURTAINMZ

The original version of the second scene in Act Two focussed on

Charlie Hanlon's engineering Laddy's discovery of Chris and Wilda in

Chris's bedroom. Langner expressed his major criticism of that scene I I O in the query: "Can Ryder go upstairs instead?" Behrman subsequently

instructed himself to "make a new scenario on the basis of Ryder's

going upstai rs In the opening scene between Chris and Wilda,

Behrman added the d etail that Wilda breaks her scheduled date with Chris

in deference to Ryder's sudden return. They then go upstairs together,

and the scene duplicates the action of the second draft until the end

111 Ib id ., 26 July 1937, p. 8.

^ ^ Ib id ., 4 August 1937, P* 12.

^ ^ Ib id ., "Langner Notes," /_ July, 1937_/, P* 7*

^ I b i d . , 1 August 1937, p* 11 • 310

of the act, when Ryder perceives Hanlon's intention and saves Laddy by

discovering Wilda him self.'^ He returns and reports that Wilda was not with Chris, and he exits with Laddy. The ending of the scene remained

unchanged.

Behrman completed the third d ra ft of Act Two on September 9, 1937,

and he spent the following week revising Act Three. The most signifi­

cant change in the action of the third act consisted of Wilda's confes­

sion to Laddy that Ryder indeed discovered her with Chris in Chris's

bedroom. The revision was prompted by Langner's request that Behrman

reshape Wilda as a more sympathetic character. Freedman objected

to Ryder's sudden departure at the end of the act. He asked Behrman to

reinstate a revision of the f ir s t - d r a f t scene between Wilda and Ryder

that followed Chris's rejection of Wilda. Freedman noted: "I think

you should get the fu ll impact of the meeting between Ryder and Wilda

at the very end without leaving it dangling by impl ication."*^ Behrman

subsequently inserted a scene after Ryder's confrontation with Chris

that depicted Ryder consoling Wilda, who is devastated by Chris's

rejection. Behrman also revised the minor detail of Chris's intended

emigration to Russia. In view of Leon Trotsky's forcible exile in

1 lO Mexico, Behrman instructed himself to "have Chris go to Mexico."

' ^ I b i d . , 9 September 1937, p* 15*

' ^ I b i d . , "Langner Notes," /"Ju ly , 1937_7, p. 1.

^ 7 | b i d . , "Freedman Notes," / July, 1937__/, P* 1*

1181 b id ., 17 July 1937, P- 4. 311

On September 17, 1937, Behrman acknowledged the completion of the

th ird version of Wine of Choice with the notation "FINIS— FOR THE

MOMENT."119 He later added the parenthetical qualification "(must say

1 o n a very b rie f moment)," and on September 19, 1937, he began work on

a fourth draft of the script. He recorded Theresa Helburn's suggestion

for a revision in Act Three. She believed that Binkie would not announce W ilda's engagement to Ryder in view of the fact that Niebuhr

knows Ryder discovered Wilda with Chris. Miss Helburn suggested, rather,

121 that Binkie should announce the engagement of Wilda to Chris.'*-1

Behrman indicated his dissatisfaction with the producer's criticism:

Comment: I have so strongly the feeling that this routine would be a mistake for me— have it so b eau tifu lly simply by having Laddy go upstairs as I did in - the o rig in a l. . . . You might try , however, to write this outline of T. H.'s for the exer­ cise. . . . If this doesn't work, you can restore your original and be done then with the play. . . . Yielded too quickly to the sugges­ tion on Ryder's going upstairs. . . . Go through with i t — right through Chris announcement— go through with it —just to show them.

On September24, 1937, Behrman finished the rewrite of the third act.

In the revised opening scene between Binkie and Ryder, Niebuhr discloses

his intention to announce the betrothal of Wilda and Laddy. In the

ensuing ensemble scene, however, Niebuhr surprises Ryder by announcing

W ilda's engagement to Chris. Chris publicly declines the "honor" of

n 9 |b id ., p. 30.

,2 0 lbid.

121 Ib id ., 19 September 1937, pp. 30-31.

*2 2 |b id ., 19 September 1937, p* 31; 22 September 1937, P* 32. 312 accepting Wilda's hand in marriage, and Laddy graciously offers to substitute for Chris. Binkie is ecstatic over the success of his scheme, but Wilda destroys Niebuhr's enthusiasm by confessing to Laddy that she has been intimate with Chris. She refuses Laddy's offer of marriage. Laddy then exits with Traub. The rest of the third act rema ined unchanged. ^^3

On September 25, 1937, Behrman recorded Maurice Wertheim's c ritic is m

1 oil of the s c rip t. Wertheim "d id n 't like the end much." He asked

Behrman, "Can't Ryder and Wilda say good-bye in a d ig n ified way and

Binkie and she wind up the p l a y ? " ^ 5 Behrman immediately revised the final scene and reinstated Binkie's first-draft attempt at effecting a reconciliation between Ryder and Wilda. They refuse to cooperate with

Binkie's scheme, and Ryder leaves with Wilda's best wishes for his 1 26 happiness.

Two days la te r, Behrman convinced his producers that Laddy's discovery of the tryst between Chris and Wilda was more effective than

Ryder's intrusion on the lovers. He reminded himself to reinstate the business of "Laddy, instead of Ryder, going ups-tai r s ." I2?

Wine of Choice went into rehearsal late in October, 1937, with

Leslie Banks, not Herbert Marshall, playing the role of Ryder Gerrard.

ib id ., 22 September 1937 - 2k September 1937, PP* 32-3^»

12Zf I b id ., p. 35.

, 2 5 | b i d . 12 6 Ib id ., "Act Three In s e rt," 25 September 1937-

^ ^ Ib id ., 27 September 1937, P- 36. 313

Banks was "under 1featured-player1 contract to the Guild, and had been without work since To Q.uito and Back (October k, 1937), so he was

naturafly chosen to play the role of the 1iberal Senator from New

Mexico."1^8 | n h is e ffo r t to make Bank's B ritish accent credible,

Behrman subsequently had Ryder "confess to being a Rhodes scholar."^ 9

The Guild's Board of Managers reconvened on November 9, 1937, to

discuss additional revisions of the script. They criticized Ryder's

first-act proposal to Wilda and instructed Behrman: "You must dramatize

the proposal and his allowing her three months to decide—mustn't just

be a concession. In giving her three months he must foreshadow this:

that he has enough faith in her to believe that she'll be fed up with

the picture business once she's tasted the s u p e rfic ia lity and medi- 130 o c rity ." Behrman accommodated the G uild's suggestion by inserting

three pages of dialogue that culminated in Ryder's qualified acceptance

of Wilda's independence:

WILDA: Never in my lif e have I been able to decide for myself. This may give me a chance, Ryder. RYDER: Of course, darling. Take it. WI LDA: Ryde r .' RYDER: I understand perfectly. WILDA: D arling— do you? RYDER: Of course. WILDA: W ill you wait? RYDER: Yes. I'll wait. I'll wait until this film career of yours is over. By that time y o u 'll be sick of this career--you'11 come to me--of your own free W|H. . . WILDA: Oh, Ryder, I love you.'1-*'

128v/aldau, p. 281.

129|bid.

^30 ib id ., "Conference Notes," 9 November 1937, Pp. 3-**. 1 i Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 1, pp. 63-6*1 3)b

On November 15, 1937, the Guild noted the absence of a specific motivation for Ryder's return to the Sears estate in the second a c t . ' 3 2

Behrman subsequently added the exposition that Ryder returned because he received a le tte r from Chris that hinted at an a f f a ir between Wilda and L a d d y . '33 Behrman also inserted Ryder's later discovery that

Chris's assumption was f a l s e . ' 3 ^

On November 23, 1937, P h ilip Moeller insisted that Behrman drama­ tize Binkie's motivation for befriending Wilda. He suggested that

Niebuhr "is , in his curioui way, in love with Wilda as the image of

IOC her mother." Moeller's suggestion inspired Behrman to create expository dialogue for Binkie and Laddy that was inserted into their fi rst-act scene:

LADDY: Sometimes, Binkie, I think you are in love with WiIda yourself. BINKIE: Nonsense.' . . . LADDY: You take such an extraordinary interest in her.' . . BINKIE: You are inaccurate by a generation. It was Wilda's mother I was in love w ith--she was one of the most exquisite creatures I never had an affair with, but she too was impractical.'3°

On the last day of rehearsal in New York, Behrman inserted a f i r s t - act scene between Charlie Hanlon and Binkie that followed Wilda's in itia l scene with Niebuhr. The revision was essentially a transferral of

^ WOC Notes, "Conference Notes," p. 1.

| O *5 Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 2, sc. 1, p. 118.

]3 ^ |b id ., pp. 119, 128.

Notes, "Act III," p. *f.

^^Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 1, pp. 3^—35* 315

Binkie's exposition of Hanlon from the f ir s t scene in Act Two to Act

One.137

When Wine of Choice opened at the Erlanger Theatre in Chicago on

December 13, 1937, "only the usually acerbic Claudia Cassidy found much to admire in the Guild's most recent production. While admitting it was not Behrman's best p lay-- . . . s t i l l i t had more to o ffe r than the radical one-sided arguments of 'a complete left-w inger like O d ets'."^ ®

At 8:30 AM on December 14, Behrman noted: "A fter three notices--the play can still be saved by a different Act 1."^^

Lee Simonson contributed one suggestion for a first-act revision.

On December 12, 1937, he recommended that Behrman move the in itia l scene between Binkie Niebuhr and Charlie Hanlon to an e a r lie r position

in the action of the play.^® Hanlon's entrance was subsequently moved to overlap with the end of B inkie’s opening scene with Cleo Hackett.

Three s ig n ific a n t changes were made in the script before Wine of

Choice opened in New York in February, 1938. The role of Cleo Hackett was eliminated. Behrman substituted a telephone call between Binkie and Cleo for their previous interview at the outset of Act One.

Behrman also reverted to the producers' suggestion that Ryder should

discover the tryst between Chris and Wilda in Act Two.^^ The final

*37W0C Notes, 10 December 1937, P* 53.

138v/aldau, p. 282.

^ WQC Notes, p. 54.

^ ^ Ib id ., “Simonson Notes," p. 7*

141 , Behrman, Wine of Choice, act 2, sc. 2, p. 163. 316 revision of consequence was a change in the closing scene of the play that originally featured Binkie's telephone call to Sam Goldwyn. The revised curtain scene depicted Binkie's prediction of his protege's success in films and Wilda's repeated vow to be "hard and casual and calculati n g ."^

Although Behrman made only three s ig n ific a n t changes in Wine of

Choice during the two months that intervened between the Chicago and

New York premieres of the play, he made innumerable minor cuts, revisions, and inserts in the script. None of the dramatist's changes attacked the basic weakness in the play. Behrman alluded to the central drama­ turgical difficulty in his early notes for Wine of Choice. In January,

1937, he observed: "The fact is, I tried to do too much. That is really the trouble. I invented more than I needed to invent."1^ The cumulative effect of Behrman's attempt to dramatize The Mi santhrope, contemporary p o litic s , the film industry, and an abstract freedom of choice was that the fin al play emerged, in the words of one c r it ic , as

"a confused, incohate, and undecided comedy of manners. Wine r.'

Choi ce was also a "confused" ensemble play: the roles of Binkie Niebuhr,

Wilda Doran, Ryder Gerrard, and Dow Christophsen were approximately equal in length. The Guild consequently encountered major difficulties with the starring and featured players whom they cast in Wine of Choice.

Regarding the Chicago run of the play, Lawrence Langner recalled:

^^Ibid., act 3, p. 213.

^ ^ WOC Notes, 6 January 1937, P* 5*

l^Wa ldau, p. 28k. 317

Miriam Hopkins . . . was not at a ll happy in her part and had no hesitation in saying so. . . . At the termination of each rehearsal, I was visited by Leslie Banks who remarked, "Really, Lawrence, I can see from the way this is being rewritten that you don't need me in this play. You can replace me easily with a hundred-dollar-a-week a c to r."145

When the production reached Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in January, 1938,

Miriam Hopkins left the company, and Philip Moeller resigned his oost

as director. Herman Shumlin replaced Moeller, and he cast Claudia 146 Morgan in the role of Wilda Doran.

When Wine of Choice opened at the Guild Theatre on February 21,

1938, "it ran into a solid wall of critical indifference. All efforts,

rewriting, redirecting, recasting, . . . were to no avail. Wine of

Choice was s t i l l considered not good enough." ^ 7 Brooks Atkinson

observed: "Latterly the Theatre Guild has not been doing so much for

the scripts that have come to its hand.'''^ He wrote of the play:

Wine of Choice is an amiable purr of inconsequentialities between characters too colorless to be seen without the use of playgoer's prism. Mr. Behrman is taking a holiday; he is giving his mind a rest. . . . ^

On the day after the New York debut of Wine of Choice, Behrman reviewed

his 443 pages of notes for the s c rip t and closed his notebook with the

rueful comment, " — yet Brooks Atkinson found me on h o lid a y ." ^ 0

^ 5 fhe Magic Curtain, pp. 266-267.

^^Other members of the company included Theodore Newton as Dow Christophsen, Donald Cook as Laddy Sears, Herbert Yost as Charles Hanlon, Alexander Woollcott as Binkie Niebuhr, Paul Stewart as Leo Traub, and Akihiko Yoshiwara as Togo.

1^7Waldau, p. 286. Wine of Choice ran fo r 43 performances.

^^New York Times, 27 February 1938, sec. 9, P* 1.

1bid., 22 February 1938, p. 18.

^SOWOC Notes, 22 February 1938, p. 83. CONCLUSIONS

I bear creatively, I think, a charmed life. Behrman, Wine of Choice Notes, p. 26.

I t is a general dictum of lite ra ry creation chat an author must, if he is to have permanent success, w rite what he " fe e ls ," what he "knows," and what he "understands." The more specific principles of S. N.

Behrman's process of creation are delineated in his notebooks for The

Second Man, Meteor, Biography, Rain From Heaven, End of Summer, and Wine of Choice. Behrman's plays were, in the main, dramatizations of what he

"felt," "knew," and "understood," but his success must also be ascribed to the c o llective contribution of selected lite ra ry predecessors and contemporary mentors. Lord Leighton, Napoleon, Bergson, Shaw, Chekhov, and Moliere were, in a sense, Behrman's inco poreal collaborators, with

the more substantial figures of Harold Freedman and the Guild producers, on the six plays examined in this study. Behrman's selective assim ila­

tion of what they "felt," "knew," and "understood" was an essential part

of his dramatic technique in the 1930' s.

In his notes for Wine of Choice, Behrman termed his dramatic method

"collaboration with oneself."^ His "collaborator" in the early stages of

writing a play was a creative "self" inspired by both literature and life

*27 June 1936, p. 11.

318 C 319

Lord Leighton's correspondence was the impetus for the composition of The

Second Man. Bergson's theories of time inspired the creation of Meteor and Biography. Alfred Kerr's essay on exile and Shaw's Heartbreak House were the stimuli for Rain From Heaven. The impetus for End of Summer was derived from a newspaper account of the Gowen-McCarthy tr ia l and Chekhov's

The Cherry Orchard. Moliere's The Misanthrope was the literary inspir­

ation for Wine of Choice. Literature provided Behrman with the inciting

ideas for his plays. Observations from lif e were the primary source material for Behrman's characterizations and dialogue. After Behrman

submitted the f ir s t drafts of his plays to Harold Freedman and the Theatre

Guild, his agent and producers denied him the n o velist's luxury of

"collaboration with oneself." The play that was written in solitude was

invariably not the play that we- eventually produced before an audience.

Beh:man's meticulous notes on the progress of each script from his

in itia l in s p ir :ion to the final revision document the development of

his playwriting technique.

The most fundamental aspect of Behrman's creative method was his

rigid adherence to a d aily w riting schedule. In 1929, Behrman described

the atmosphere that he required for his work:

1 am forced, when 1 want to w rite so much as a postcard, to shut all doors, cut off the telephone, and cere myself carefully in an inimitable silence.^

Behrman generally endured the "silence" for a period of three hours

eacn day according to the schedule that was devised for him in 1928 by

^"Troubadour," The New Yorker, 25 May 1929, p. 27- 320

3 Daniel Asher, his childhood mentor. Asher's prescription of a daily routine was his means of insuring Behrman against the unpredictable variable of ephemeral inspiration. Asher counseled his protege to cultivate the habit of writing, and Behrman responded favorably to his mentor'c advice in a le tte r w ritten to Asher in 1928:

What you said about maintaining energy levels by drawing upon them regularly means something very real to me now. . . . 1 fee' some glimmering of it now--I really feel beauti­ fully limbered up. I can see a state where writing would not be a terrific strain but more or less a calm and unemotional dipping into an accumulated resevoir. That would be marvelous.1 4

Behrman usually reserved his mornings for work on his plays, and he frequently acknowledged the efficacy of Asher's d aily regimen. In his notes for Rain From Heaven, Behrman observed: "The morning routine—

that's all you need to cling to in life—everything else you do in the day w ill feed your morning r o u t i n e . D u r i n g his work on End of Summer he noted: "One more idea for PHG . . . patience for germination and the mornings in v io la te — . . . a hard and fast ru le ." While w riting Wine of Choice Behrman reaffirmed his fa ith in the morning routine: "After a l l , the point is to keep w ritin g — to keep practicing, not to lose a morni ng."7

^See Chapter 1, pp. 8-11. L In Donald Asher, The Eminent Yachtsman and the Whorehouse Piano Player (New York: Coward, McCann & Geohegan, 1973), p. 1l4.

51 May 193*+, p. 120.

627 June 193^, p. 18.

^2b December 1936, p. 21. 321

The core of Behrman's technique was his practice of note-taking.

Approximately the f ir s t third of each notebook contained his rudimentary observations on the characters, theme, and scenario of each play. The remainder of each notebook was devoted largely to preliminary drafts of dialogue and outlines for revisions. Behrman invented the epithet "the O pointillist method"0 to describe the early stage of dramatization that featured his jo ttin g down ideas for a play. In his notes for End of

Summer, Behrman indicated his rationale for note-taking: "The wonders of this method — it uses up a ll of your surplus — leaves the essence for the big white page."^ He instructed himself to "keep taking notes until the saturation-point comes,and he frequently reread and culled the early notes for a play in an e ffo r t to stim ulate the in it ia l composition of a problematical act, scene, or unit of dialogue.

Behrman's greatest difficulty as a dramatist consisted of effecting the transition from the subject matter of his notes to the plot of a play. George Pierce Baker counseled his playwriting students:

"Undoubtedly, he who begins with a story is nearer his goal than he who begins with an idea or a character."*^ With the exceptions of The Second

Man and End of Summer, Behrman in itia te d his work on a scrip t with an

idea or characterization in mind. The technical demand of constructing a plot caused him considerable frustration. Behrman began his dramati­ zation of Rain From Heaven on the strength of his inspiration from Shaw's

^Rain From Heaven Notes, 9 September 1937, P* 2.

930 August 1935, p. 135-

^End of Summer Notes, 2 July 193^-, p. 26.

^Dram atic Technique (Boston: Houghton M ifflin , 1919), PP* 5^-55* 322

Heartbreak House and Alfred Kerr's depiction of e x ile . Armed with the theme of tolerance and vignettes of the major characters, he encountered the obstacle of dramatic structure. Behrman had neglected to construct a scenario of the dramatic action, and he corroborated Baker's theorem with the observation: "You're up against a purely structural problem now— you've got the characters and the m aterial— you re a lly ought to work

1 9 on structure." In the midst of his work on Wine of Choice, Behrman remarked, "I'm not worried about the dialogue— i f I only had a s itu a ­ tion."^ He later posed the rhetorical question, "Still haven't got the central core, the story, the situation, have you?"^ The lack of an adequate scenario eventually led to increased frustration, and when Behr­ man paused la te r to consider the problem of structure, he vented his petulance in the note: "The hell with your p lo t— keep the blood pumping through the veins of your characters . . . let th eir lif e be the lif e of the play."**’ Freedman and the Theatre Guild deemed the fir s t - d r a f t

" lif e " of Wine of Choice d e fic ie n t, and while Behrman was engaged in revising the play, he expressed his "longing for another medium that is

16 not so held up by the tightness of technique."

The disagreeable task of constructing a plot was mitigated some­ what by Behrman's enthusiasm for the technique of characterization.

^ 2 February 193^, p. 39.

^ 2 9 June 1936, p. 15.

July 1936, p. 20.

^ 6 October 1936, p. 131.

168 April 1937, P- 9- 323

A fter he introduced the character of "Ryder Gerrard" into the action of

Wine of Choice, Behrman reflected:

It's extraordinary--the minute a character steps upon the stage, I feel 1iberated--free--a physical relief. I think a m illio n times better with a character on the stage — between entrances is my agony. '

In his notes for Rain From Heaven, Behrman described the satisfaction he derived from the "gradual drawing in of the characters together, and

the gradual precipi tation of the temperaments of Vi and Hugo in the

bottom of this social bowl t i l l the characters are shown fin a lly to be

jO impossible to coalesce."10

Behrman frequently transferred ideas for the theme, characters,

and structure of an incipient dramatization from the dramatic action of

his previous plays. In his notes for Biography, Behrman observed: "The

idea of this play, the lei t-mot i f of The Second Man and B rief Moment is 1 Q time — le t this play come out of th a t." J In The Second Man Clarke

Storey attempts to rejuvenate himself by clinging vicariously to the

youth of Monica Grey. Roderick Dean in B rief Moment succumbs to the

delusion that his marriage to Abby Fane will revitalize his life. In

Biography Behrman s im ila rly demonstrated the f u t i l i t y of Marion Froude's

effort to relive her youth in the manuscript pages of her own autobio­

graphy. Behrman noted that Marion r roude, the notorious p o rtra it-

painter in Biography, should emerge as "a dame with f a c ilit y and not

'76 August 1936, p. 71-

18 16 March 193^, p* 67- The pun on "p re c ip ita tio n ," in view of the title of the play, is perhaps unintentional.

19/~March, 1932_7, p. k. 20 quite enough talent, a female Storey" akin to the second-rate writer he depicted in The Second Man. Behrman also compared his characteri­ zation of Richard Kurt, Marion's brash lover in Biography, with his previous dramatic exposition of Raphael Lord, the arrogant protagonist of Meteor. He described Kurt as "Raphael Lord with a social conscience."

Behrman alluded to The Second Man and Biography in his notes for

Rain From Heaven. He advised himself to build the e ro tic tension in the

romantic triangle composed of Ranci Eldridge, Hugo Wi liens, and Lady

Wyngate in Rain From Heaven, noting that " i t should have the kind of excitement that there was in The Second Man between Monica, Storey, and

22 Austin.' ' He equated W illens's return to Germany in the concluding

scene of Rain From Heaven with Marion Froude's destruction of her manu­

scrip t and subsequent departure for Hollywood at the end of Biography:

"In this play it's the man who has the point of view— it 's the man who

does what Marion does in Biography." 2^

In his notes for Wine of Choice, Behrman observed:

I'm rewriting B rief Moment is what it comes to— the amusing thing is that nobody will suspect it--you can point it out in your own preface--N o --let some student point it out. ^

2015 March 1932, p. 13,

2114 A p ri1 1932, p. 19-

2^8 January 1934, p. 15*

2310 May 1934, p. 133-

2if17 October 1936, p. 153- 325

In B rief Moment, Roderick Dean resents Abby Fane's growing independence within his sophistocated social circle. In the second act of the play,

Dean is shocked by his discovery of Abby's proposed assignation with her

former lover, Cass Worthing. Ryder Gerrard ih Wine of Choicesim ilarly

admits his resentment of WiIda Doran's independence, and in the second

act of the play he intrudes on WiIda's tryst with his rival, Dow

Christophsen.

Behrman referred to the inevitable phenomenon of creative stagna­

tion as "the doldrums. He frequently attempted to recover from the

despair induced by periods of confusion or inactivity by quoting from

Shaw's Heartbreak House or Thomas Mann's Death In Venice. Mann's

novella begins with his exposition of Gustave Aschenbach, the Silesian

author of a "lucid and vigorous prose epic on the lif e of Frederick the

Great; careful, tireless weaver of the richly patterned tapestry

e n title d Maia, a novel that gathers up the threads of many human

destinies in the warp of a single idea." Mann further described the

nature of Aschenbach's lite ra ry technique:

Outsiders might be pardoned for believing that his Maia world and the epic amplitude revealed ^y the life of Frederick were a manifestation of great power working under high pressure, that they came forth, as it were, a ll in one breath. It was the more triumph for his morale; for the truth was that they were heaped up to greatness in layer after layer, in long days of work, out of hundreds and hundreds of single inspirations; they owed their excellence, both of mass and detail, to one thing and one alone; that their creator could

2R Wine of Choice Notes, 1 September 1936, p. 103.

26 Thomas Mann, Death In Venice (New York: Random House, 1930), p. 8. 326

hold out for years under the s tra in of the same piece of work, with an endurance and a tenacity of purpose lik e that which had conquered his native province of S ile s ia , devoting to actual composition none but his best and freshest hours.

Behrman identified with Aschenbach in his notes for End of Summer. He recalled the fic tio n a l author's obsession by "hundreds of l i t t l e

inspirations" and apparently sought some measure of solace from the 28 reflectio n , "so I do— countless ones." During a hiatus in his work on Wine of Choice, Behrman struggled to renew his interest in the play by quoting Mann again: '"the hundreds of little inspirations'— you've forgotten th a t."^9

Shaw's dialogue for "Captain Shotover" in Heartbreak House provided

Behrman with a second phrase that he referred to in his "dollrums."

Shaw dramatized Shotover's preoccupation with his quest for "the seventh degree of concentration."3® In his notes for End of Summer Behrman mused:

If one inspiration could be distilled for thought or for creation--the seventh degree of concentration— if the imagination could be transferred and analyzed, then think of the work that could be done— and yet?3'

While working on Wine of Choice, Behrman, like Shotover, instructed

himself to a tta in "the seventh degree of concentration." He encouraged

^7|bid., p. 10.

2827 June 193*1, p. 18.

2^1 July 1936, p. 16.

3®Bernard Shaw, Heartbreak House (Baltimore, Maryland: Penguin Books, 196*0. act 1, p. 86.

311 July 193*1-, p. 3*f- 327 himself to "summon i t now," but he qualified his command by adding the note that he would settle for "at least the sixth degree. "32

Behrman's third method for dispelling creative stagnation was his self-conscious denial of the fact that he composed his plays for commer­ cial production. A temporary suspension of inspiration for Rain From

Heaven prompted Behrman's comment:

You don't have to worry about money any more— learn as much as you can, see as much as you £an, write_as much as you can for youself— perfect it / the play_/ for yourself. ^

In his notes for Wine of Choice, Behrman responded to the d if f ic u lt y posed by revising his first draft of the third act with the command:

"Write it for yourself-- . . . dash off the third act for yourself."3^

Notwithstanding the author's transient ruminations to the contrary, both plays escaped relegation to Behrman's private lib ra ry .

Behrman's work on the f ir s t d ra ft of each play was an a lte rn a te ly pleasurable or painful exercise in "collaboration with oneself." His notes on subsequent versions of each script document the variegated contributions of his agent and producers. The most notable effect of

Behrman's affiliation with Freedman and the Theatre Guild is manifest

in his ultimate reputation as a comic playwright. The early drafts of

Meteor, Bjography, Rain From Heaven and End of Summer reveal Behrman's

penchant for tragedy and melodrama. The fourth version of Meteor,

3211 October 1936, P- 141.

333 January 193^, p- 9»

3**15 April 1937, p. 20. 328 which Behrman preferred to the fin a l d ra ft of the play, ended with

Raphael Lord's desperate attempt to rebuild his financial empire. In depicting Ann Carr's desertion of Lord and Lord's fall from power,

Behrman intended to communicate the serious implications of the hero's pride and megalomania. The th ird -a c t curtain of the f ir s t d ra ft of

Bi ography fell on a portrait of Marion Froude's spiritual defeat at the hands of Richard Kurt. The manuscript version of Rain From Heaven ended with Lady Wyngate's "gaze into some vision of her own," and the fourth- draft conclusion of End of Summer featured a depiction of Leonie Froth-

ingham in repose, "looking out a t a darkening sea where so often her mother sat, musing the ancient rid d le ."

The Theatre Guild encouraged Behrman to revise the serious endings

of Meteor, Biography, Rain From Heaven, and End of Summer. The final

scene of the acting edition of Meteor consequently implied Lord's

restoration to power. The production of Bi ography concluded with Marion

Froude's renewed interest in life via Melchior Feydak's offer of a

commission in Hollywood. The fin al curtain of End of Summer fe ll on

Leonie Frothingham's toast to her future with Dennis McCarthy. Not­ withstanding Philip Moeller's objections, the Guild was unsuccessful in

its attempt to e lic it a genuinely comic ending for Rain From Heaven.

Behrman compromised by adding Rand Eldridge to the fin al scene, which

appeased the producers by m itigating somewhat the e ffe c t of Lady

Wyngate's s o lita ry "gaze," which had ended the f ir s t d ra ft of the play.

The Guild and Freedman did not limit their criticisms to the final

curtains of Behrman's plays. Behrman's producers eliminated the

melodramatic element of Raphael Lord's third-act attempted suicide from 329 the acting edition of Meteor. Harold Freedman, with the support of the

Guild, encouraged Behrman to transform End of Summer from a murder melodrama into a comedy of manners. Behrman's agent and producers also effected countless changes in the minor details of his dramatic charac­ terizations, dialogue, and structure.

S. N. Behrman "collaborated with himself" on the first drafts of six original plays for the Theatre Guild from 1927 u n til 1938. His collaborators in production, Harold Freedman and the Theatre Guild, effectively increased the dramatist's total output by demanding two drafts of The Second Man, five versions of Meteor, two drafts of

Bi ography, three revisions of Rain From Heaven, and four rewrites each of End of Summer and Wine of Choice. Through fourteen revisions of six original plays, Behrman's agent and producers influenced the implementa­

tion of his dramatic technique. Published correspondence, plays, and essays provided Behrman with lite ra ry inspiration for the composition 1 of his plays. Selected friends and acquaintances became the prototypes

for his characterizations, and contemporary lite ra tu re supplemented his

dramatic dialogue. Behrman's playwriting technique was essentially an

exercise in the process of a r t is t ic collaboration. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

PRIMARY SOURCES

1) Manuscripts

Madison, Wisconsin. Wisconsin State Historical Society. Division of Archives and Manuscripts. S. N. Behrman Papers. (See appended i nventory)

2) Published Plays (Listed chronologically in order of th eir production)

Behrman, S. N ., and Nicholson, J. Kenyon. Bedside Manners. New York: Samuel French, 1924.

______. A Night's Work. New York: Samuel French, 1926.

Behrman, S. N. The Second Man. New York: Samuel French, 1927•

Serena Blandish, or The Difficulty of Getting Married. New YoTk: Farrar and R in e h a r t ,1934.

______. Meteor. New York: Samuel French, 1934.

______. B rief Moment. New York: Farrar and Rinehart, 1931.

______. Biography. New York: Farrar and Rinehart, 1933.

. Ra i n From Heaven. New York: Random House, 1934.

______. End of Summer. New York: Random House, 1936.

______. Amphitryon 33. New York: Random House, 1938.

______. Wj ne of Choice. New York: Random House, 1938.

______. No Time For Comedy. New York: Random House, 1939-

______. The Talley Method. New York: Random House, 1941.

______. The Pi ra te . New York: Random House, 1943-

______. Jacobowsky and the Colonel. New York: Random House, 1944.

Dunnigan's Daughter. New York: Random House, 1946.

330 I Know My Love. New York: Samuel French, 1949-

Jane. New York: Random House, 1952.

Fanny. New York: Random House. 1955.

The Cold Wind and the Warm. New York: Random House, 1959.

Lord Pengo. New York: Random House, 1963-

But For Whom Charlie. New York: Random House, 1964.

3) Prose Works

Behrman, S. N. Duveen. New York: Random House, 1952.

The Worcester Account. New York: Random House, 1954.

P o rtrait of Max: An Intimate Memoir of S ir Max Beerbohm. New York: Random House, 1960.

The Suspended Drawing Room. New York: Stein and Day, 1965.

The Burni ng Glass■ Boston: L ittle , Brown, 1968.

People In A D iary. Boston: L it t le , Brown, 1972.

4) Essays

Behrman, S. N. "Park-Bench Lovers." The Clark College Monthly 2 (November 1912): 133-34.

"Culture and Shaves." The Clark College Monthly 5 (January 1913): 193-

"Via Music." The Clark College Monthly 5 (January 1913): 223-25.

"The Man Who Hated." The Clark College Monthly 6 (February 1913): 283-88.

"Bought and Paid For." The Clark College Monthly 2 (November 1913): 94-96.

"Damaged Goods." The Clark College Monthly 3 (December 1913) 94-96.

______. "Caesar and Cleopatra." The Clark College Monthly 5 (February 1914): 193-94.

"The Destroyer." The Clark College Monthly 7 (April 1914): 256- 68. 332

"Psychology and the New Philosophy of the Theatre." The Clark College Monthly 8 (May 191*0: 303-07.

"The Song of A rie l." The Seven A rts , May 1917, pp. 13-26.

"Movie Morals." The New Republic, 25 August 1917, pp. 100-01.

"The Coming of the Lord." The Touchstone 2 (October 1917): 76- 81.

"Surrender." The Liberator, May 1918, pp. 16-18.

"Lord Morely as a Literary Critic." M.A. Thesis, Columbia University, 1918.

"The Return." The Smart Set 60 (November 1918): 113-19-

"Tawny Makes a V is it ." The Smart Set 58 (March 1919): 67-73*

"Honorary Pal 1-Bearers Were The Smart Set 60 (April 1919): 121-26.

"Rupert Hughes and Karl Marx." The New Republic, 9 July 1919, pp. 335-36.

"That Second Man." The Smart Set 60 (November 1919): 73—8*f.

"The Advertising Man." The New Republic, 20 August 1919, pp. 8^-86.

"Iro n ." The New Republic, 20 August 1919, PP> 100-01.

"Hickey and Mother Goose." The Liberator 3 (March 1920): 11-13.

"Never Stretch Your Legs in a Taxi." The Smart Set 62 (August 1920): 71-76.

"The W raith." The Smart Set 62 (November 1920): 91-95.

"Rupert Goes on the Loose." The Smart Set 67 (March 1922): 53-58.

"Holiday." The Smart Set 68 (June 1922): 89-96.

"Piano." The Smart Set 68 (August 1922): 25-30.

"En Route." The Smart Set 69 (November 1922): 127-30.

"The Bathroom Key." The Smart Set 70 (April 1923): 75-83-

"Loan E xh ib it." The Smart Set 71 (June 1923): 119-28. 333

"Troubadour." The New Yorker, 25 Hay 1929, PP 27-29

"Accoucheur." The New Yorker, 6 February 1932, pp. 20-24.

"Mr. Jaeckel and a Few Hides." The New Yorker, 9 April 1932, pp. 22-25-

"Chutspo." The New Yorker, 10 December 1932, pp. 23-27*

"In Defense of Hollywood." The New Yorker, 20 January 1934, pp. 30-35-

"Do or Diaphragm." The New Yorker, 25 May 1935, pp., 22-27

"Hyper or Hypo?" The New Yorker, 8 Apri 1 1939, pp. 23-29.

"Old Monotonous." The New Yorker, 1 June 1940, pp. 33-36.

"Old Monotonous." The New Yorker, 8 June 1940, pp. 23-26.

"Zion Comes to Culver C ity ." In Chaim Weizman. New York: Dial Press, 1944.

"The Suspended Drawing Room." The New Yorker, 27 January 1945, pp. 27-32.

"The Red and the Blue." The New Yorker, 21 April 1945, pp. 30-34.

"Playw right." The New Yorker, 25 May 1945, pp. 28-34.

"Playw right." The New Yorker, 1 June 1946, pp. 32-36.

"Playwright." The New Yorker, 8 June 1946, pp. 32-38.

"Mr. Lavin, Mr. Lupkin and Dr. Abercrombie." The New Yorker, 29 June 1946, pp. 28-30.

"Our Responsive Readers." The New Yorker, 3 August 1946, pp. 63-65.

"My Romance with Eleonora Sears." The New Yorker, 18 January 1947, pp. 28-30.

" It 's Cold at Lady,. ,W-'.ndc-r,v,e i*ev s . The Hew Yorker, 22 March 194/. pp.‘"37-42.' ......

"Mr. Wolfson's Stained Glass Window." The New Yorker, 28 June 1947, pp. 24-28.

"Debs and the Day of Atonement." The New Yorker, 6 December 1947, pp. 42-45. 334

"The Improvement in Mr. Gaynor's Technique." The New Yorker, 17 July 1948, pp. 25-29.

"Notes of a Popular Pessimist." The New Yorker, 29 October 1949, pp., 102-0*+.

"The Days of Duveen: Itin e ra ry ." The New Yorker, 29 September 1951, pp. 33-38.

"The Days of Duveen: A Beginning in D e lft." The New Yorker, 6 October 1951, pp. 41-44.

"The Days of Duveen: A Brisk Market in Im m ortality." The New Yorker, 13 October 1951, pp. 41-46.

"The Days of Duveen: B. B." The New Yorker, 20 October 1951, pp. 36-40.

"The Days of Duveen: The Blue Boy and Two Lavinias." The New Yorker, 27 October 1951, pp. 38-40.

"The Days of Duveen: The S ilent Men." The New Yorker, 3 November 1951, pp. 40-42.

"Malach Hamovis." The New Yorker, 26 January 1952, pp. 21-29.

"Raising a Query: What Makes Comedy High?" New York Times, 30 March 1952, sec. II., p. 1.

"Daughter of the Ramaz." The New Yorker, 1 November 1953, pp. *+5-52.

"Double Chocolate with Emma and Sasha." The New Yorker, 16 January 1954, pp. 24-29.

"A L ittle Glass of Warmth." The New Yorker, 1 May 1954, pp. 28-36.

"The Point of the Needle." The New Yorker, 5 June 1954, pp. 26-3*+.

"Books." The New Yorker, 29 October 1955, pp. 15*+— 56.

"Conversation With Max: Compare Me." The New Yorker, 6 February I960, pp. 45-46.

"Conversation With Max: The Mirror." The New Yorker, 13 February I960, pp. 40-42.

"Conversation With Max: On the Terrace." The New Yorker, 20 February I960, pp. 50-52. 33 5

"Conversation With Max: P.'rtito Ma Non Arrivato." The New Yorker , 27 February 1 9 6 0 , pp. k3-bk.

"Conversation With Max: The Menu." The New Yorker, 12 March I960, pp. 1*7-48.

"Conversation With Max: The Executive Forefinger." The New Yorker, 12 March i 960 , pp. 50-52.

"The Paddy Vein." Prairie Schooner 35 (Spring 1 9 6 1): 10-13-

"Letter to the E d ito r." New York Times, 14 June 1963, p. 30.

"You Can't Release Dante's Inferno in the Summertime." New York Times Magazine, 17 July 1966, pp. 6-7-

"Speaking as a Survivor, Not a Contemporary." New York Times Magaz i ne, 2 June 1968, pp. 28-29.

"People In a Diary— I." The New Yorker, 13 May 1972, pp. 36 - ' 9b.

"People In a D ia r y - - ll." The New Yorker, 20 May 1972, ' pp. 39-95.

"People In a Diary— I I I " The New Yorker, 27 May 1972, pp. 38-81.

SECONDARY SOURCES

Asher, Donald. The Eminent Yachtsman and the Whorehouse Piano Player. New York: Coward, McCann & Geohegan, 1973•

Baker, George Pierce. Dramatic Technique. Boston: Houghton M ifflin , 1919.

Baxter, Marilynn Ruth. "Modern Woman as Heroine in Representative Plays by S. N. Behrman." Ph.D. dissertatio n , University of Wisconsin, 1973.

Dodd, Loring Holmes. C elebrities at Our Hearthside. Boston: Chapman & Grimes, 1955•

Eaton, Walter Prichard. The Theatre Guild: The First Ten Years. New York: Brentano's, 1929•

G assner, John. "S. N. Behrman: The Risk of Tolerance." In The American Theatre As Seen By Its C r itic s . Ed. M. J. Moses and J. M. Brown. New York: W. W. Norton, 1934-.

Helburn, Theresa. A Wayward Quest. Boston: L ittle , Brown, I960. 336

Heniford, Lewis Williams. "S. N, Behrman as a Social Dramatist." Ph.D. dissertation, Stanford University, 196^.

Hewitt, Bernard. Theatre U.S.A. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959-

Kaplan, Charles. "S. N. Behrman: The Quandary of the Comic S p ir it." College English 11 (March, 1950): 317-23.

Kinne, Wisner Payne. George Pierce Baker and The American Theatre. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 195^-*

Klink, W illiam Robert. "A C ritic a l Analysis of Selected Plays of S. N. Behrman." Ph.D. dissertation, Catholic University of America, 1972.

Krutch, Joseph Wood. The American Drama Since 1918. New York: Random House, 1939-

Langner, Lawrence. The Magic Curtain. New York: E. P. Dutton, 1951-

______. The Play's The Thing. New York: Putnam, I960.

Levin, Milton Irving. "S. N. Behrman: The Operation and Dilemmas of the Comic Spirit." Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan, 1958.

Mantle, Burns. Contemporary American Playwrights. New York: Dodd, Mead, 193^

Nadel, Norman. A P ictorial History of the Theatre G uild. New York: Crown, 1969 *

Nydegger, John L. "A C ritic a l Analysis of the Original Dramatizations of S, N. Behrman." Ph.D. dissertation, University of Denver, 1969-

Quinn, Arthur Hobson. A History of the American Drama From the C ivil War to the President Day. New York: F. 5T Crofts^ 1936.

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Weales, Gerald. "Popular Theatre of the Thirties." TDR 11 (Winter 1967): 51-69.

Wharton, John. Life Among the Playwrights. New York: Quadrangle, 197^. 337

TERTIARY SOURCES

A llen, Frederick Lewis. Only Yesterday. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1931.

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Woollcott, Alexander. The Letters of Alexander Woollcott. Edited by Beatrice Kaufman and Joseph Hennessey. New York: Viking, 1 9 ^ . APPENDIX

MANUSCRIPTS INVENTORY

(Listed chronologically in order of play production)

The Second Man. Box 18. Correspondence: 192^ April - 1925 January.

The Second Man. Box 19. Original MSS: 1925 January - 1925 March. Rewrites: 1927- Inserts: 1927- Notes: 1925-1927. Scenario: 1927- Clippings; Reviews, Press Releases.

Meteor. Box 15- Original MSS: 1926 . Rewrites: 1927-1929- Second Draft: 1928. Notes: 1925-1929- Third Draft: 1928. Fourth Draft: 1929- Final Version: 1929-

Meteor. Box 16. Notes: 1929- Revisions: 1929 - Clippings: Reviews, Press Releases.

Biography. Box 2. Correspondence: 1932 October - 193^ A pril. Rough Scenario: 1932. Preliminary Notes: 1932. Expanded Scenario: 1932. Original MSS: 1932 Inserts: 1932. Rewrites: 1932. Notes: 1932-193^- Clippings: Reviews, Press Releases.

Rain From Heaven. Box 18. Correspondence: 193^ April - 1935 January, Original MSS: 193^ January.

338 Act III Rewrite: 193*+ January. Notes: 193*+ January - 193*+ December. Clippings: Reviews, Press Releases.

End of Summer. Box 7• Cor res pondence : 1936 February - 1936 Apri Notes: 193*+ Aug us t 1935 February. Original MSS: 1935- Second D raft: 1935- Thi rd D raft: 1935- Fi nal Draft: 1935-

End of Summer. Box 8. Clippings: Reviews, Press Releases.

Wine of Choice. Box 20. Correspondence: 1938 January - 1938 March Original MSS: 1936. Rewrites: 1937- Final Version: 1938. Notes: 1936 July - 1938 January.

Wine of Choice. Box 21. Act Rewrites: 1937-1938. Scene Rewrites: 1937-1938. Conference Notes: 1937-1938. Clippings: Reviews, Press Releases.