Susan Gerstein's Blog - Posts Tagged "n-c-hunter"
Re-discovering the forgotten
The Mint Theater is a small off-Broadway enterprise that specializes in reviving neglected or forgotten plays from earlier eras. It is a wonderful project I had been following for years that yields occasional gems. Recently I saw there a revival of “A Picture of Autumn” by the British playwright N.C. Hunter. I had never heard of N.C. Hunter, or any of his plays, though it seems that he had been extremely well known in the ‘50s, with several successful, long-running productions on the London stages. Then came the “angry young men”, John Osborne, Alan Sillitoe, Harold Pinter and many others who stood “old-fashioned” theater on its head, and N.C. Hunter’s admittedly well-crafted, erudite, deeply human depictions of the human condition fell victim to the changing world. “Well-crafted”, “erudite”, “bitter-sweet” became pejorative words and N.C. Hunter’s plays were forgotten, until the wonderful production at the Mint had recently begun to remedy this.
All this brings me to Somerset Maugham. Though Maugham is not “forgotten”, or not entirely so, he is considered nowadays a second-rate writer of no consequence. The aspects of his books that I have loved since I first encountered them – and still love – are the very ones I mentioned about N.C. Hunter’s plays: they are beautifully written, somewhat detached depictions of the painful/amusing, bumbling drama that life is. They are, indeed, well crafted. They tell stories: all have a beginning, a middle and an end. They describe the human condition with a slightly amused, wry acceptance of it. Maugham can depict the interaction of classes in Britain, the sadness of unrequited love anywhere, or take you traveling all over the world, observing the fascinating clash of cultures between Europeans in China or in the South Pacific. His superb short stories are masterworks of the craft of writing, and I mean that as the highest compliment. Ashenden, the protagonist/narrator of many of the stories taking place in the Far East is a British gentleman-spy of great sophistication whose adventures are still relevant in today’s world. Or so one would think. But old-fashioned story telling seems not to be a virtue and Somerset Maugham had been relegated to the back rooms. A pity.
All this brings me to Somerset Maugham. Though Maugham is not “forgotten”, or not entirely so, he is considered nowadays a second-rate writer of no consequence. The aspects of his books that I have loved since I first encountered them – and still love – are the very ones I mentioned about N.C. Hunter’s plays: they are beautifully written, somewhat detached depictions of the painful/amusing, bumbling drama that life is. They are, indeed, well crafted. They tell stories: all have a beginning, a middle and an end. They describe the human condition with a slightly amused, wry acceptance of it. Maugham can depict the interaction of classes in Britain, the sadness of unrequited love anywhere, or take you traveling all over the world, observing the fascinating clash of cultures between Europeans in China or in the South Pacific. His superb short stories are masterworks of the craft of writing, and I mean that as the highest compliment. Ashenden, the protagonist/narrator of many of the stories taking place in the Far East is a British gentleman-spy of great sophistication whose adventures are still relevant in today’s world. Or so one would think. But old-fashioned story telling seems not to be a virtue and Somerset Maugham had been relegated to the back rooms. A pity.
