A Commentary by Dr.Tom
Markus, Professor of Theatre, University of Utah
From his text: How to Read a Play, Kendall/Hunt
Publishing Co, Dubuque Iowa (p.622-626)
A PINTER PLAY
Harold Pinter's way of writing is unique,
and the phrase a "Pinter play" is so familiar a description that it shows
up in newspaper stories, politicians' speeches, and even in a song lyric
from the popular musical Company. You will be better prepared to
read The Collection if you recognize the major traits of a "Pinter
play," so I will try to identify them for you.
Pinter's plays are set in recognizable locations,
take place in the present time, and are peopled with characters who dress,
speak, and behave in familiar ways. Pinter's plays seem, at first glance,
to be entirely Realistic. At second glance, they are more difficult to
classify. His earliest plays like The Room and The Dumb Waiter
dealt with characters near the bottom of the socioeconomic ladder
(criminals, beggars, and bums) and were set in rooms that are recognizable
(bedrooms in boarding houses and basements of old apartment buildings).
In later plays like No Man's Land and Betrayal, his characters
are more affluent (rich businessmen and university graduates) and the
rooms are in elegant homes. But all his plays have in common the fact
that they are about characters we accept as drawn from life as we understand
it, and they take place in rooms we believe could exist. The Collection,
for example, is about upper-middle-class people who live in attractive
flats and speak as though they are well educated. One couple runs a
boutique that sells fashionable clothes; the other couple includes a designer
and a manufacturer of women's wear.
Many of Pinter's plays begin with the same
situation-a character believes he is safe and secure in a room, and he
is then terrified when an unknown, mysterious, and potentially dangerous
intruder enters. This is the basic action of Pinter's first play, The
Room, and this menacing situation recurs in most of his works. In
The Collection, you will discover that James brings the threat
of violence with him when he enters Harry and Bill's home. Indeed, the
play opens with James telephoning in the middle of the night, so his voice
violates the tranquility of their security before he arrives in person,
and it introduces the threat which will later become palpable.
A third trait is that the playscript includes
no exposition. Pinter doesn't provide us with the background of his characters
or with a description of the events which precede the beginning of the
play. We are placed in the same situation as the characters, meeting new
characters for the first time and knowing nothing about them, experiencing
events and not knowing why they are happening, being cheered or frustrated
or terrified by things that happen without the ability to understand them.
Pinter does not write well-made plays in which the omniscient author provides
the audience with the tools needed to understand the action and the characters'
motivations. He does not write rationally organized plots that can be
summed up in a particular moral, and his plays cannot be mistaken for
essays conceived in dialogue. Instead, he writes plays that are experienced
pretty much the way we experience everything else in life.
A fourth trait is the characters' intense
quest for verification-they want to know what's going on, who they are,
and what is true. In Pinter's plays, unexpected events happen and characters
say things that terrify other characters, and all the characters are desperate
to know what is going on and what the mysterious events and speeches mean.
They sense it is a matter of life and death for them to know the truth,
and they do everything they can think of to verify who they are and
what's happening. In The Collection, James and Harry are desperate
to learn if their respective mates have had an illicit affair. Their quest
for the truth, for verification of what has happened, who their mates
really are, and what is happening in their relationships is the central
action of the play.
The fifth and the most celebrated trait of
a Pinter play is the dialogue. His characters speak in everyday vocabulary,
but his dialogue is very far from what you'd hear if you tape-recorded
everyday speech. Pinter has selected his words and arranged his syntax
with great care, so that his dialogue has a very particular rhythm and
so that we in the audience share the characters' sensitivity to a meaning
underlying the words. Pinter appears to have been influenced by Chekhov,
the first modem playwright to recognize that spoken language is only the
tip of the iceberg of meaning, and that characters frequently mean more
or mean differently from what they say out loud. Pinter is a very gifted
poet, and he understands that the melody and rhythm of speech communicate
meaning as much as the content of what is said. He achieves his effects
by introducing pauses and silences into the dialogue that make us aware
there is more being meant than is being said. As a result we have the
same unsettling experience as the characters in his plays, and we become
agitated and nervously aware of a ferocious and unnerving disjointedness
about the dialogue.*
The "Pinter pause" is the most immediately
recognizable trait of a Pinter play. When you read one of his playscripts,
you will find the words "pause" and "silence" used often. When you attend
one of his plays in a theatre, you will feel the suspense and rhythm which
these short and long pauses create. Another trait of Pinter's dialogue
is that his characters use language as a weapon. Sometimes characters
are nearly bludgeoned with a torrent of words, as happens in The Collection
when Harry attacks Bill for being a "slum slug," and more frequently
they are intimidated by their inability to follow the leaps of logic and
the seeming non-sequiturs in another character's dialogue. You'll find
many examples of this in The Collection. This unique way of writing
dialogue is Pinter's technique for showing that we use speech to avoid
communicating with one another. Unlike traditional Realistic dialogue
of the kind found in the plays of Ibsen and Hansberry, dialogue in which
the characters say what they mean and what the playwright wants the audience
to hear-Pinter's dialogue more honestly imitates the way people truly
speak. Consciously or not, we hide what we mean from the people we talk
to, and so do Pinter's characters. In The Collection, the characters
speak of olives, but we sense the true subject they're talking about,
and we feel the menace underneath the surface of their polite chatter.
The eccentric behavior and dialogue in Pinter's
plays is frequently very funny, and audiences laugh hard and long, yet
there is an underlying feeling of danger in his plays, and critics frequently
describe them as "comedies of menace." Pinter's technique creates plays
that are unsettling for audiences accustomed to dialogue and action that
are arranged rationally and that tell us what to know, believe, and learn.
Pinter's audiences quickly become agitated because they are put in exactly
the same situation as the characters and cannot fully understand what
is happening. We have the same need for verification that the characters
have, and Pinter artfully makes us experience their uneasiness. His plays
are funny, but agitating. The action usually begins as though the play
will be a comedy, but somewhere along the way the action turns dark and
dangerous, and the plays end without the comforting resolution we expect
from comedy.
Accordingly, critics, scholars, and audiences
agree that Pinter is the quintessential playwright of modem tragicomedy.
His plays make us feel anxiety. The terror his characters feel when the
security of their room is violated by the arrival of an unknown and unreasonable
intruder is the same terror we feel when we open our eyes to reality wide
enough to admit that our very existence could be snuffed out by the random
explosion of a terrorist's bomb or the accidental contraction of an incurable
disease. The anxiety his characters feel when they cannot verify what
is happening to them or even who they are-an anxiety that audiences and
readers of The Collection must share is the anxiety all late 20th
Century people feel when we confront the uncertainty of our existence
in this unsettling world. The frustration his characters feel when the
action of the play does not provide them with meaning or closure is the
frustration we feel when we admit to ourselves that we cannot understand
the irrational nature of our universe. And Pinter's exceptional talent
is that he is able to write plays that both reflect these truths of the
human condition and which cause us to experience these same truths while
we sit in the theatre or turn the page
The Collection
The title is a metaphor with multiple meanings.
It alludes to the trade show in the city of Leeds where various fashion
designers showed their new line of clothes, their "collection," and where
Stella and Bill met and either did or did not spend the night together.
Equally, the title refers to the collection of lies, truths, beliefs,
and points of view that are revealed in the play.
The play is like a piece of chamber music
written for a string quartet. In a sequence of short scenes played by
four characters, a small number of themes are introduced, embellished,
shown in counterpoint and in reversal, and the play ends without a resolution
to the basic dramatic question: did Stella and Bill sleep together? While
we join the characters in a quest for the answer, we experience scenes
about heterosexual lust, about latent and active homosexual attraction,
about deceit and betrayal, about ownership, about jealousy, about repressed
rage, about class distinctions, about violence, about paranoia, and about
power. Together, these scenes give us a "collection" of images which forge
a mosaic of life which we recognize as frustratingly true.
Because the dramatic question remains as unanswered
in this play as our most urgent questions remain unanswered in our own
lives-is there truly life after death?, can we ever truly know the people
we love?, can we ever truly know ourselves?-we learn the fact about the
human condition that Pinter most wishes to share with us. To compensate
for our inability to learn truths, we humans seek power. Power gives us
the comfort we are otherwise denied. We can gain power over others if
we have knowledge they don't have. Stella has power over James because
he doesn't know what happened in Leeds. James has power over Harry because
he knows Bill is attracted to him. Harry has power over Bill because they
both know he holds the purse strings. Bill has power over James because
he knows what happened between himself and Stella. And so the round dance
goes on. The dance of power that creates warfare between individuals,
between the sexes, between the races, between political parties and military
states and organized religions. Power is the primary human drive, and
it is ultimately destructive. Philosophers write essays about this and
great playwrights like Harold Pinter help us to learn it experientially.
A SECOND GLANCE AT THE STYLE OF
A PINTER PLAY
I wrote above that "Pinter's plays seem, at
first glance, to be entirely Realistic. At second glance, they are more
difficult to classify." Because they seem so eccentric, so unfamiliar,
so unlike the plays that were written in earlier times, many critics and
scholars have argued that they are not Realism but should be categorized
as examples of the Theatre of the Absurd.
The Theatre of the Absurd is a descriptive
phrase that was popularized by the. scholar and critic Martin Esslin when
he published an influential book by that title, describing, analyzing,
and celebrating the plays and playwrights he believed shared a common
view of human existence-no matter how varied their plays might seem on
the page or on the stage.* Following World War 11, a number of playwrights
in Europe began writing plays of an unusual form and style which asked
"big questions" about the meaning of life. The playwrights from this period
whose works have endured include Samuel Beckett (Waiting for Godot),
Eugene lonesco (The Bald Soprano), Edward Albee (The American
Dream), and Harold Pinter. Esslin argued that these playwrights were
influenced by the philosophy called Existentialism, and particularly the
writing of the French intellectuals Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus
(al-bear ka-moo). As the linchpin for his book, Esslin quotes a celebrated
definition of the "absurd" written by Camus: