BOOKS
63
ceivcd at the end of Lawson's New Playwright period. It may be dis–
m;ssed as little more than an adaptation of some of his earlier moods to
a Hollywood theme. It isr handled skilfully, but it i!> quite empty; yet
it comes closer to actuality than his earlier efforts, particularly in the
opening act, which describes a domestic scene with effective realism.
The,
Pure in
H
enrt
is a
S\'1-·ift
tabloid story of a flapper who breaks into
Broadway and reachr.s the threshold of success only to run away with a
young gangster and get bumped off.
The Pure in Heart
seems to be totally out of place in the same volume
with
Gentlewoman,
and with Lawson's " reckless preface." The first play
was conceived before the beginning of the economic crisis; the second was
produced at the beginning of 193-J.. During this interval, social forces
cut deep into the consciousness of American men of letters. The change
in American society, the coming to the surface of tho basic class opposi–
tion, helped to clear up Lawson's blurred vision of reality. This is already
apparent in
G entlewoman,
even though it is still cluttered with Lawson's
earlier aesthetic habits. At the time he wrote the play he seems to have
been too much a part of the li fe
o ~
his characters to tear himself above
their confused middle-cl ass outlook. Nevertheless, his protagonist, Rudy
Flannigan, fin ally breaks away from the disordered, mtrospective existence
in which he rots. He realizes that he cannot "sail over the battle on
a pink cloud pounding a typewriter," but must "enter the fight" and
"take sides" with the working masses.
By the time
Gentlewoman
was produced, the New Playwnghts ven–
ture had become something of a tradition. Its laurels passed on to the
new working class theatre that is just beginning to approach maturity.
In his "reckless preface" to these two plays ("reckless" in the sense that
he as a playwright scalds the Broadway dramatic critics for their shal–
lowness and arrogance), Lawson affirms his belief that the revciutionary
theatre can be the only answer to the problem of how to revive
the
American drama. His recent article in the
New Theatre
magazine is
even more forthright. While still absorbed in experimentation with form,
he evinces a Marxian understanding of its role in the recreation of social
reality. His statements show that Lawson has spurted ahead to retain
his position among the leaders of the revolutionary theatre in America.
His essay will, in all likelihood, become the preface to a new stage in his
dramatic development.
ALAN CALMER
