Thalia in Dublin: Some Suggestions about the Relationships between O’Casey and Classical Comedy

Abstract

Thalia in Dublin: Some Suggestions About the Relationships Between O’Casey and Classical Comedy James Coakley and Marvin Felheim I Standard interpretations of O ’Casey’s early successes—The Shadow of a Gunman (1923), Juno and the Paycock (1924) and The Plough and the Stars (1926)— emphasize the remarkable combination of real­ ism and humor, the tragicomic quality, which he achieved in these works; the prevailing attitude is also that these plays are somewhat fumbling efforts, made memorable, however, by extraordinary language and characterization. Then, with The Silver Tassie (1928), say the critics, O ’Casey changed his manner and thus began to utilize the symbolism so characteristic of his later plays. So much for the easy, handbook classification of a very great dramatist. But any serious student of the theatre, when confronted with these early plays, whether on the printed page or in actual performance, is genuinely impressed with their power, and, upon closer analysis, their subtlety and sophistication. What we propose to do, in this brief study of Juno and the Paycock, taking our cue from the title itself, is to relate the play to its larger context, to some of the more significant traditions of Western drama, specifically to the Roman stage and the comedies of Plautus and, more remotely, of Terence. Some generalizations may be set forth first, however. Plautus and O ’Casey, for example, were both writing for audiences familiar with war: among the spectators in Plautus’ audience were certainly veterans of the Second Punic War (218-201 B.C.), while the Irish for whom O ’Casey was making his observations had been literally living through rebellion (against the British) and civil war; hence, the subject of war, long borne, could become, and was, both ludicrous and searing. It is possible, though perhaps a bit far-fetched, to see a neat parallel here: as the Dubliners of O ’Casey’s day were to the British, so Plautus’ Romans were to the Greeks. Both audiences were, in addition, urban dwellers. Plautus, it is 265 266 Comparative Drama true, probably because he was adapting many of his works from Greek models, generally chose Athens as his setting, but he left no doubt at all that he intended his references and his barbs for his fellow Roman citizens. O ’Casey, too, set his plays in the urban scene, specifically the tenements of Dublin (as opposed to the practices of his great pre­ decessor, Synge, who used the Irish countryside for his locales). Both Roman and Irish playwrights, however, depended a great deal upon the city dweller’s sense of humor about himself and his condition; and for the achieving of many of these effects both depended heavily upon certain devices: puns, word plays, and a particular kind of joke: the offering of a wholly unexpected reply to a question (perhaps another aspect of the absurd). II O ’Casey reveals his debts to Roman comedy in the title of his play (as Shaw had done before him in his pointedly Vergilian title, Arms and the M an) . It is the point of debarkation from which a rich symbology colors and shapes the text. The obvious allusion to the Queen of the Gods, traditionally surrounded by peacocks, firmly plants the central symbol of the play’s action. Yet O ’Casey, in mock heroic fashion, distorts the legend by surrounding his Juno with a peacock neither noble nor beautiful, but vain and bibulous. Juno Boyle is, to be sure, heroic, a tenement housewife capable of sustaining the home at all costs. But she is also a Plautine matrona and goddess undone by the strutting vanity of her supposed protector. O ’Casey’s Rome is Dublin, site of a newly-born republic, seemingly on the threshold of a golden age. Yet the deities which surround this city provide none of their usual protection. Constantly invoked in the dialogue, the gods are not friendly, merely impassive. A votive light to the Virgin Mary, the Boyle’s household goddess, is prominent in the setting, but flickers out once the soldiers come to take Johnny to his death. Yet constant invocation is not unquestioned devotion; for these people, unlike their Roman ancestors, betray a healthy dis...