Paul Claudel by Bettina L. Knapp (review)

Abstract

Book Reviews 149 Readers who did not have this baptism, however, may find them unduly long and not entirely well related to the premise. Throughout the book there are some excellent critical reflections upon certain plays. Davison's remarks about Pinter and the function of the "pause" - that it allows the audience to create its own response - I find particularly good, possibly because they agree with my own perceptions! He is also good on Osborne's The Entertainer. But at times he tries too hard to force his thesis upon texts, as when he suggests that Jerry's main monologue in The Zoo Story is "wholly dependent upon music hall (or rather vaudeville) performer audience relationships" (p. I12). The monologue in question much more evidently belongs to that other great American tradition: the psychoanalytic confessional. The relationship is that between analyst and patient - the modem equivalent of Priest and Sinner, with expiation before sacrifice. Davison's attempt to make this a vaudeville technique seems a peculiarly perverse reading. There is much to be admired in Professor Davison's book, but the material does not entirely support the thesis; and there is a curiously erratic and scattershot structure, orto change the metaphor - the structure seems a peg upon which to hang some interesting but not always connected discussion. Too much is covered for any critical depth, and there is too slight a foundation for a significant historical thesis. JOHN HARROP, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA BARBARA BETTINA L. KNAPP. Paul Claudel. New York: Frederick Ungar 1982. Pp. 287, illustrated. $13.50. Bettina Knapp's Paul Claudel is part of the intelligent attention that worldwide scholarship is paying to Claudel and his theatre. Knapp offers a double analysis in her book: obviously she gives Claudel's theatre unquestionable priority, yet she often filters her judgments on his theatre through remarks on Claudel's character. This method has the great advantage of making known both the author and his work, but it also has one major drawback: while dwelling on the psychological weaknesses of the author, the critic voices some ofher prejudices against the work. The critic might also remember the warning ofPaul Valery, who says that it is "naive ambition" to attempt reconstitution of an author's life, just as it is vain to intend a full explanation of artistry through personality. Knapp begins her analysis with Break ofNoon. She calls it a "bulbous drama," a "gargantuan panoramic vision," but with a lack of "murmur of heart." And she adds, "The mind predominates" (p. 25). Speaking of the same drama, she later states, "The flesh dominates" (p. 86). The truth is, however, that the drama is dominated by the mind, flesh, and heart: it is a part ofClaudel's life, written with his own blood. There is no doubt that the drama is the result, as Knapp states, of the "solitude," "isolation," "restraint," "discipline," etc., in which Claudellived for years and in which he drowned his emotional life. Break ofNoon is a violent eruption, the sudden birth ofa masterpiece that the possible suppression of the sentimental life does not explain, certainly not if suppression aroused "anger, hatred, dissatisfaction, hostility" (p. 27) in Claudel's life. Knapp suggests that the cause ofthe conflicts in Claudel's life can be found in the fact that, while he tried to face the demands of his instincts and satisfy the requirements of Book Reviews literary creation, he was paralyzed by his faith, his "strict adherence to the Church's laws and doctrines" (p. 35). From this opposition the author draws two conclusions: first, that Claudel, sensing the conflict and the absurdity ofhis own life, was able to "functiononly within a world of self-imposed limitations, dogmas [and] certainties" (p. 139); second, that his characters, becoming victims not only ofhis own absurd situation but also ofhis God, "must endure" punishment and are forced "to avoid joy, to know torture and humiliation" (p. 139). Knapp refers to the protagonists in The Satin Slipper as "possessive, egotistic, and arrogant" (p. 138). In effect, she seems to hold it against Claudel's theatre that the playwright never allows his characters to live according to their instincts and natures. For Knapp, Claudel...