Thomas Stearns Eliot was a poet, dramatist and literary critic. He received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1948 "for his outstanding, pioneer contribution to present-day poetry." He wrote the poems The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, The Waste Land, The Hollow Men, Ash Wednesday, and Four Quartets; the plays Murder in the Cathedral and The Cocktail Party; and the essay Tradition and the Individual Talent. Eliot was born an American, moved to the United Kingdom in 1914 (at the age of 25), and became a British subject in 1927 at the age of 39.
Originally published (separately) on my blog here in January 2001.
Murder in the Cathedral
The best known of Eliot's five plays, Murder in the Cathedral is about the killing of Thomas a Beckett in 1170 in Canterbury cathedral. Really part of the long concluded struggle between secular and religious authority, aspects of Beckett's death have conspired to make it seem more important than it really was: the dramatic way in which the murder took place; the vague connection with one of the most important developments in medieval England, the concept that not even the king was above the law; and the massive cult which developed quickly around Beckett and which survived until the Reformation.
The short play has two scenes, one about a month before the murder, when Beckett returned to Canterbury from exile in France, and the actual murder itself. As an interlude between them stands Beckett's Christmas Day sermon from that year, and the second scene also includes an interlude in which the four knights who killed Beckett plead their case to the audience. These interludes are in prose, and the rest of the play is blank verse.
Murder in the Cathedral is a very intellectual play, though apparently compelling on stage. Much of the dialogue is more like philosophy than drama, and much of the structure is related to medieval mystery and miracle plays. This is particularly apparent with the four tempters who come to Beckett in the first act, trying to persuade him (for example) to renew his friendship with the king. In no sense is Eliot attempting to be historically accurate or even convincing; in real life people would never speak the way they do in this play. Nevertheless, it is interesting to read.
The Family Reunion
I found it a little difficult to understand exactly what The Family Reunion is about; it would probably be a lot easier to do so seeing it in the theatre. Clearly, there is a secret at the centre of the relationships of the Piper family, brought together at the ancestral home for the first time in several years. It is equally clear that hatred is the principal emotion that most of the family feel for each other, and it becomes clear that the power in the family lies not with apparently dominant mother Amy but with her sister Agatha.
That the secret is some kind of crime against family is shown by the presence of the Eumenides, traditional pursuers and tormentors of such criminals in Greek myth. They are silent, which is rather different from their usual portrayal as vociferous accusers.
Apart from being in verse, The Family Reunion reads as though it were one of the Ibsen plays about family and inherited taints - Ghosts, for example. It is rather less gripping to read and much more difficult to work out what it is about, however.
The Cocktail Party
Edward and Lavinia Chamberlayne are about to hold a cocktail party in their London flat when Lavinia leaves Edward; the first act has Edward meeting those of their friends that he has been unable to contact. These include a man who is a stranger to him, who promises to help him sort his life out. This man turns out to be a rather strange philosophical psychologist, and the second act takes place in his office where meetings are contrived between various of the characters, including the woman Edward was having an affair with (the partner in Lavinia's affair has gone to California to work on the script for a film).
The question behind The Cocktail Party is how much we understand other people. The psychologist plays a key role in revealing something unknown about the other characters to themselves and each other. This new knowledge plays a big part in their lives from that point on, as it sends one character to her death, and brings the Chamberlaynes back together again.
Like Eliot's other plays, much of The Cocktail Party is intellectual and dry in tone. It has some interesting things to say, though I don't think it is the kind of play I would enjoy on stage.
The Confidential Clerk
When Sir Claude Mulhammer's confidential clerk is forced to retire because of ill health, he appoints a young man to replace him. This sets in motion a plot which is reminiscent of Joe Orton, as both Sir Claude and his wife become convinced that the new clerk is his or her illegitimate child - both had affairs before their marriage. This obviously sounds like a recipe for a farce, but The Confidential Clerk is not a farce.
Like all Eliot's plays, The Confidential Clerk is about who we are under the facade meant for public consumption, when successive layers of pretence and secrets from our past (in this case, an example would be the identities of our parents) are stripped away. They look at this in an unusually philosophical way, but The Confidential Clerk is probably closest to a conventional drama than any other. It is not particularly dramatic, but it has more character differentiation than Eliot's earlier plays.
The Elder Statesman
Eliot's final play has much the same intellectual tone as the others, and is particularly like The Confidential Clerk in tone. Its central character is a politician who has been successful without ever rising as high as he once expected himself to. Forced to retire for medical reasons, he is hounded by revelations from his past - a man who as a student he led into bad company, a singer with whom he had an affair and who was bought off by his father. These people, well enough off on their own account, are not blackmailing him for money; they want to spend their time reminding him of his guilt, of how his public image does not match the real man underneath it.
It is strange that for such a wonderful poet, Eliot wrote plays which are mostly neither particularly poetic or dramatic. They are not as allusive as the poems, but they tackle similar intellectual and philosophical issues; Eliot's preoccupations remain the same whatever the genre in which he is writing. All the plays are interesting to read, but don't impress as being likely to be gripping on stage.
I am glad that I finally took the time to read these plays. I particularly enjoyed Murder in the Cathedral. There were themes throughout of responsibility and identity. Sometimes I just didn't get it. These are plays to study and understand more.
It's probably pointless to rate these plays. I've read most of them more than once, and enjoy them while I'm reading them, but I retain nothing and can't even imagine how they could be pulled off on stage (or how an audience could have sat still for them). I guess ambivalent = 3 stars?
T.S. Eliot, celebrated for his groundbreaking poetry, also made significant contributions to drama, and this collection gathers all of his plays into one volume, showcasing the range and evolution of his dramatic works. From "Murder in the Cathedral" to "The Elder Statesman," Eliot's plays reflect his mastery over poetic drama, blending classical influences with modern sensibilities.
"Murder in the Cathedral" remains Eliot's most renowned dramatic work, a poetic drama about the martyrdom of Thomas Becket that combines historical narrative with profound spiritual inquiry. It sets a high bar with its rich, liturgical language and its exploration of martyrdom and sanctity. "The Family Reunion" delves into themes of guilt, redemption, and the Furies from Greek mythology, though it sometimes struggles under the weight of its own symbolism.
"The Cocktail Party" marks a shift towards a more accessible, even comedic, style while still maintaining Eliot's characteristic depth, earning a Tony Award for its Broadway production. This play, along with "The Confidential Clerk" and "The Elder Statesman," shows Eliot's engagement with contemporary life, exploring human relationships, identity, and existential concerns through a less overtly religious lens than his earlier works.
Eliot's plays are not merely a side venture but a critical part of his literary output, demonstrating his commitment to reviving poetic drama in the English language. They are, however, uneven in quality; some may find the later plays less compelling than "Murder in the Cathedral," which stands out for its poetic force and dramatic intensity.
This collection is essential for those interested in the full scope of Eliot's work, offering insights into his development as a dramatist and his attempt to bridge the gap between poetry and theatre. It's a testament to his belief in drama as an art form where poetry could thrive, though the success of this endeavor varies across the plays.
For devotees of Eliot's poetry, this volume reveals another facet of his genius, but for those new to his drama, the experience might be mixed, requiring an appreciation for the poetic over the purely narrative.
The Cocktail Party – ** What to make of this strange play. Let me start with the poetry.
On the page, the play is written in verse. Yet I suspect a listener would never know. Even by the broadest definition of poetry (“elevated language,” whatever that is), it can safely be said this verse does not have it. There is no metrical structure, nor are there any rhythmic elements. It is positively prosaic. There are sections where the dialogue turns philosophical/psychological, but it never sings – the language never rises to the level of what I’d call poetry.
Even Eliot admits this himself: “I laid down for myself the ascetic rule to avoid poetry which could not stand the test of strict dramatic utility: with such success indeed that it is perhaps an open question whether there is any poetry in the play at all.” (Poetic Drama, p. 125)
There is one section that clearly leaves the prosaic (the end of Act II), but it more ritualistic language than poetry in the modern sense. And it appears from nowhere and frankly doesn’t make much sense to me.
Once past the prosaic verse, the play is rather talky. There isn’t much that happens and the characters mostly analyze themselves and others. Then there are oddities like the mysterious Sir Henry (as well as Julia and Alex) who seems to know everything about everyone. (How? We don’t know.) He is simply not a believable character.
Then there is the announcement of Celia’s death by cruxificion on an anthill in Africa. That was totally out of left field – completely outside the tone on the rest of the play. Very odd.
It’s a shame that a poet of Eliot’s caliber couldn’t at least write more compelling verse. A failed play could be understood, but a failure of the language is disappointing. Unless you are an Eliot (or poetic drama) completist, I can’t recommend this. There are many other plays where your time would be better spent.