<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1>Oscar Wilde Miscellaneous</h1>
<h2><SPAN name="pagevii"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p. vii</span>PREFACE</h2>
<blockquote><p>‘<i>As to my personal attitude towards
criticism</i>, <i>I confess in brief the
following</i>:—“<i>If my works are good and of any
importance whatever for the further development of art</i>,
<i>they will maintain their place in spite of all adverse
criticism and in spite of all hateful suspicions attached to my
artistic intentions</i>. <i>If my works are of no
account</i>, <i>the most gratifying success of the moment and the
most enthusiastic approval of as augurs cannot make them
endure</i>. <i>The waste-paper press can devour them as it
has devoured many others</i>, <i>and I will not shed a tear . . .
and the world will move on just the
same</i>.”’—<span class="smcap">Richard
Strauss</span>.</p>
</blockquote>
<p><span class="smcap">The</span> contents of this volume require
some explanation of an historical nature. It is scarcely
realised by the present generation that Wilde’s works on
their first appearance, with the exception of <i>De
Profundis</i>, were met with almost general condemnation and
ridicule. The plays on their first production were
grudgingly praised because their obvious success could not be
ignored; but on their subsequent publication in book form they
were violently assailed. That nearly all of them have held
the stage is still a source of irritation among certain
journalists. <i>Salomé</i> however enjoys a singular
career. As every one knows, it was prohibited by the Censor
when in rehearsal by Madame Bernhardt at the Palace Theatre in
1892. On its publication in 1893 it was greeted with
greater abuse than any other of Wilde’s works, and was
consigned to the usual irrevocable oblivion. The accuracy
of the French was freely canvassed, and of course it is obvious
that the French is not that of a Frenchman. The play was
passed for press, however, by no less a writer than Marcel Schwob
whose letter to the Paris publisher, returning the proofs and
mentioning two or three slight alterations, is still in my
possession. Marcel Schwob told me some years afterwards
that he thought it would have spoiled the spontaneity and
character of Wilde’s style if he had tried to harmonise it
with the diction demanded by the French Academy. It was
never composed with any idea of presentation. Madame
Bernhardt happened to say she wished Wilde would write a play for
her; he replied in jest that he had done so. She insisted
on seeing the manuscript, and decided on its immediate
production, ignorant or forgetful of the English law which
prohibits the introduction of Scriptural characters on the
stage. With his keen sense of the theatre Wilde would never
have contrived the long speech of Salomé at the end in a
drama intended for the stage, even in the days of long
speeches. His threat to change his nationality shortly
after the Censor’s interference called forth a most
delightful and good-natured caricature of him by Mr. Bernard
Partridge in <i>Punch</i>.</p>
<p>Wilde was still in prison in 1896 when <i>Salomé</i>
was produced by Lugne Poë at the Théàtre de
L’Œuvre in Paris, but except for an account in the
<i>Daily Telegraph</i> the incident was hardly mentioned in
England. I gather that the performance was only a qualified
success, though Lugne Poë’s triumph as Herod was
generally acknowledged. In 1901, within a year of the
author’s death, it was produced in Berlin; from that moment
it has held the European stage. It has run for a longer
consecutive period in Germany than any play by any Englishman,
not excepting Shakespeare. Its popularity has extended to
all countries where it is not prohibited. It is performed
throughout Europe, Asia and America. It is played even in
Yiddish. This is remarkable in view of the many dramas by
French and German writers who treat of the same theme. To
none of them, however, is Wilde indebted. Flaubert,
Maeterlinck (some would add Ollendorff) and Scripture, are the
obvious sources on which he has freely drawn for what I do not
hesitate to call the most powerful and perfect of all his
dramas. But on such a point a trustee and executor may be
prejudiced because it is the most valuable asset in Wilde’s
literary estate. Aubrey Beardsley’s illustrations are
too well known to need more than a passing reference. In
the world of art criticism they excited almost as much attention
as Wilde’s drama has excited in the world of intellect.</p>
<p>During May 1905 the play was produced in England for the first
time at a private performance by the New Stage Club. No one
present will have forgotten the extraordinary tension of the
audience on that occasion, those who disliked the play and its
author being hypnotised by the extraordinary power of Mr. Robert
Farquharson’s Herod, one of the finest pieces of acting
ever seen in this country. My friends the dramatic critics
(and many of them are personal friends) fell on
<i>Salomé</i> with all the vigour of their predecessors
twelve years before. Unaware of what was taking place in
Germany, they spoke of the play as having been ‘dragged
from obscurity.’ The Official Receiver in Bankruptcy
and myself were, however, better informed. And much
pleasure has been derived from reading those criticisms, all
carefully preserved along with the list of receipts which were
simultaneously pouring in from the German performances. To
do the critics justice they never withdrew any of their printed
opinions, which were all trotted out again when the play was
produced privately for the second time in England by the Literary
Theatre Society in 1906. In the <i>Speaker</i> of July
14th, 1906, however, some of the iterated misrepresentations of
fact were corrected. No attempt was made to controvert the
opinion of an ignorant critic: his veracity only was
impugned. The powers of vaticination possessed by such
judges of drama can be fairly tested in the career of
<i>Salomé</i> on the European stage, apart from the
opera. In an introduction to the English translation
published by Mr. John Lane it is pointed out that Wilde’s
confusion of Herod Antipas (Matt. xiv. 1) with Herod the Great
(Matt. ii. 1) and Herod Agrippa <span class="GutSmall">I.</span>
(Acts xii. 23) is intentional, and follows a mediæval
convention. There is no attempt at historical accuracy or
archæological exactness. Those who saw the marvellous
<i>décor</i> of Mr. Charles Ricketts at the second English
production can form a complete idea of what Wilde intended in
that respect; although the stage management was clumsy and
amateurish. The great opera of Richard Strauss does not
fall within my province; but the fag ends of its popularity on
the Continent have been imported here oddly enough through the
agency of the Palace Theatre, where <i>Salomé</i> was
originally to have been performed. Of a young lady’s
dancing, or of that of her rivals, I am not qualified to
speak. I note merely that the critics who objected to the
horror of one incident in the drama lost all self-control on
seeing that incident repeated in dumb show and accompanied by
fescennine corybantics. Except in ‘name and borrowed
notoriety’ the music-hall sensation has no relation
whatever to the drama which so profoundly moved the whole of
Europe and the greatest living musician. The adjectives of
contumely are easily transmuted into epithets of adulation, when
a prominent ecclesiastic succumbs, like King Herod, to the
fascination of a dancer.</p>
<p>It is not usually known in England that a young French naval
officer, unaware that Dr. Strauss was composing an opera on the
theme of <i>Salomé</i>, wrote another music drama to
accompany Wilde’s text. The exclusive musical rights
having been already secured by Dr. Strauss, Lieutenant
Marriotte’s work cannot be performed regularly. One
presentation, however, was permitted at Lyons, the
composer’s native town, where I am told it made an
extraordinary impression. In order to give English readers
some faint idea of the world-wide effect of Wilde’s drama,
my friend Mr. Walter Ledger has prepared a short bibliography of
certain English and Continental translations.</p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<p>At the time of Wilde’s trial the nearly completed MS. of
<i>La Sainte Courtisane</i> was entrusted to Mrs. Leverson, the
well-known novelist, who in 1897 went to Paris on purpose to
restore it to the author. Wilde immediately left the only
copy in a cab. A few days later he laughingly informed me
of the loss, and added that a cab was a very proper place for
it. I have explained elsewhere that he looked on his works
with disdain in his last years, though he was always full of
schemes for writing others. All my attempts to recover the
lost work failed. The passages here reprinted are from some
odd leaves of a first draft. The play is, of course, not
unlike <i>Salomé</i>, though it was written in
English. It expanded Wilde’s favourite theory that
when you convert some one to an idea, you lose your faith in it;
the same motive runs through <i>Mr. W. H.</i> Honorius the
hermit, so far as I recollect the story, falls in love with the
courtesan who has come to tempt him, and he reveals to her the
secret of the love of God. She immediately becomes a
Christian, and is murdered by robbers. Honorius the hermit
goes back to Alexandria to pursue a life of pleasure. Two
other similar plays Wilde invented in prison, <i>Ahab and
Isabel</i> and <i>Pharaoh</i>; he would never write them down,
though often importuned to do so. <i>Pharaoh</i> was
intensely dramatic and perhaps more original than any of the
group. None of these works must be confused with the
manuscripts stolen from 16 Tite Street in 1895—namely, the
enlarged version of <i>Mr. W. H.</i>, the second draft of <i>A
Florentine Tragedy</i>, and <i>The Duchess of Padua</i> (which,
existing in a prompt copy, was of less importance than the
others); nor with <i>The Cardinal of Arragon</i>, the manuscript
of which I never saw. I scarcely think it ever existed,
though Wilde used to recite proposed passages for it.</p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<p>Some years after Wilde’s death I was looking over the
papers and letters rescued from Tite Street when I came across
loose sheets of manuscript and typewriting, which I imagined were
fragments of <i>The Duchess of Padua</i>; on putting them
together in a coherent form I recognised that they belonged to
the lost <i>Florentine Tragedy</i>. I assumed that the
opening scene, though once extant, had disappeared. One
day, however, Mr. Willard wrote that he possessed a typewritten
fragment of a play which Wilde had submitted to him, and this he
kindly forwarded for my inspection. It agreed in nearly
every particular with what I had taken so much trouble to put
together. This suggests that the opening scene had never
been written, as Mr. Willard’s version began where mine
did. It was characteristic of the author to finish what he
never began.</p>
<p>When the Literary Theatre Society produced
<i>Salomé</i> in 1906 they asked me for some other short
drama by Wilde to present at the same time, as
<i>Salomé</i> does not take very long to play. I
offered them the fragment of <i>A Florentine Tragedy</i>.
By a fortunate coincidence the poet and dramatist, Mr. Thomas
Sturge Moore, happened to be on the committee of this Society,
and to him was entrusted the task of writing an opening scene to
make the play complete. It is not for me to criticise his
work, but there is justification for saying that Wilde himself
would have envied, with an artist’s envy, such lines
as—</p>
<blockquote><p>We will sup with the moon,<br/>
Like Persian princes that in Babylon<br/>
Sup in the hanging gardens of the King.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In a stylistic sense Mr. Sturge Moore has accomplished a feat
in reconstruction, whatever opinions may be held of <i>A
Florentine Tragedy</i> by Wilde’s admirers or
detractors. The achievement is particularly remarkable
because Mr. Sturge Moore has nothing in common with Wilde other
than what is shared by all real poets and dramatists: He is a
landed proprietor on Parnassus, not a trespasser. In
England we are more familiar with the poachers. Time and
Death are of course necessary before there can come any adequate
recognition of one of our most original and gifted singers.
Among his works are <i>The Vinedresser and other Poems</i>
(1899), <i>Absalom</i>, <i>A Chronicle Play</i> (1903), and
<i>The Centaur’s Booty</i> (1903). Mr. Sturge Moore
is also an art critic of distinction, and his learned works on
Dürer (1905) and Correggio (1906) are more widely known (I
am sorry to say) than his powerful and enthralling poems.</p>
<p>Once again I must express my obligations to Mr. Stuart Mason
for revising and correcting the proofs of this new edition.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">ROBERT ROSS</p>
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