In this dense essay, Brecht lays out his vision for a Marxist theater of dialectical materialism. As is obliquely telegraphed by the title, it is intended as a critique of the Aristotelian theory of dramaturgy in Poetics, which argues that that theater essentially functions by the audience's identification with the characters, such that we participate in their emotional lives. As an alternative, Brecht argues on behalf of the role of alienation (Verfremdung), by which the audience is made consciously aware of the artifice of the proceedings, so that they may have a rational-critical relationship to the events depicted. In that way, theatrical productions in all senses take on the character of a laboratory experiment. Instead of being carried along by the force of the narrative, audience members are prompted to analyze and criticize it. Instead of putting on performances in the stodgy old ways, actors, set designers, choreographers, composers, et cetera are to consciously undertake practices so that they can see many different sides of each character, many possibilities for their meaning and representation, and so forth.
In this sense, Brecht argues that theater should be scientific, as befits the 'children of the current scientific age.' Ah, I remember a time even in my own life when intellectuals could reasonably take it for granted that we are in fact living in a 'scientific age,' not in a time where every single measurement can and often is politicized.
But I digress. When Brecht says 'scientific,' he is often referring to the analysis of history offered by dialectical materialism. To my ears, referring to such an approach as 'scientific' is risible - is there any cleric of any church more dogmatic than a mid-twentieth century Marxist? And indeed, Brecht takes the conclusions of Marx's writings on political economy and ideology as if they deserve the same status as Newton's laws of motion.
Generally speaking, high German culture of the last 150 years has been divided into two tendencies. The inward-facing existential-phenomenological tradition exemplified by figures such as Rilke and Heidegger is ultimately concerned with problems of meaning and value. The outward-facing social-critical tradition exemplified by the Frankfurt School is ultimately concerned with moral and social justice. Brecht, in his critique of the inwardness of Aristotle, seeks to appropriate theater entirely into the latter sphere. Theater is to be entertaining, yes - he insists on this - but also pedagogic and pro-social, ultimately serving the cause of emancipation.
In many respects, this argument would almost seem to justify theater as a form of propaganda to be administered by the party apparatus for the education of the masses, and he does come dangerously close to this way of thinking. Such theater, of course, is the exact opposite of art. Brecht saves his vision from this sorry fate by insisting on the dynamic, progressive, open-ended character of dialectics. It is not that 'we' possess the truth and our job is to disseminate it. Rather, it is the task of theater to create a vital, entertaining context for the company and the audience alike to to cooperatively ask many questions in the spirit of an open-ended exploration, to challenge ourselves and each other to view the facts from many sides.
This is, I think, one of the most laudable aspects of Brecht's theory. At times, his description of how theater is to be produced starts to approach something like the para-theatrical experiments of Grotowski, who used the devices and techniques of theater for exploration. The difference, of course, is that Brecht's exploration is ultimately to be social-critical.
In my view, there is something ineradicably tedious about the vision of a social pedagogic theater, even one that is open-ended. The solemn insistence that the function of entertainment is to educate in pre-determined terms is stultifying, and there is something borderline coercive about appropriating art forms and depriving them of any claim to dwell in interiority or private experience, as if that would be socially irresponsible. Instead, we should use theater as a chance to study injustice. Such a view is extremely reductive.
In my opinion, it is also ultimately formed on a spurious philosophical assumption. As far as I follow Brecht, he views theatrical performance as a kind of microcosm of social life, and he regards identification with the action of the play as an analog of what Georg Lukacs called reification, in which we assume that reality as it seems is somehow necessary, and not the result of historically-mediated processes. Brecht argues that audience members who identify with theater in the Aristotelian mode are in a kind of trance, one which is parallel to the trance that the masses are in when they take the political and economic status quo for granted.
This parallel is assumed rather than demonstrated, and I think it's quite false. I take, for example, a film like Stanley Kubrick's "Paths of Glory," and I pose the simple question: if I watch and enjoy that film in a conventional way, identifying with the characters and asking no critical questions about the historical age in which it is set, does that necessarily reinforce my accession to reification, to the social illusions that govern the inequitable distribution of power and wealth?
I think the answer is clearly "Of course not." The fact that I have a period of immersion neither means that I'm more susceptible to political propaganda, much less that "Paths of Glory" cannot be critical of the political status quo. The opposite is, in fact, obviously true.
You cannot simply say 'because of reification, immersion=bad, critical awareness=good'. Critical reason can be deployed to ignominious ends, and immersion can be used enroll people in the service of the highest human values.
There is a deeper problem with Brecht's theory, which is that I don't think he ultimately understands how his own drama functions - at least not the way it functions for me. The paradigmatic example he gives for his theater of estrangement is his own Mutter Courage, which I have both read and seen, and in fact, have seen a recording of a performance that Brecht himself directed with the Berliner Ensemble.
According to Brecht's theory, I am supposed to be startled by the fact that Mutter Courage is simultaneously a 'victim' of the Thirty Years' War and someone who makes her living by it; this is the kind of 'contradiction' that is supposed to generate critical self-consciousness, and provoke me to meditate on the contradictions inherent in that historical moment.
But I do not perceive that as a 'contradiction' in anything but the most trivial sense. Of course a person can be opposed to a war and also benefit from it. One can wish it would end, but also make do with the realities of the historical situation in which one finds oneself.
This is only a 'contradiction' if one adopts an extremely reductive view of life. If Brecht does indeed harbor such a reductive view - that one, for example, should be either 'for' the French Revolution, say, or 'against' it, and that anything else is a 'contradiction'- then he is lucky he has stumbled upon a theoretical device that obliges him to violate the simplicity of characterization that such a worldview warrants.
What appeals to me about Brecht is his capacity to write complex characters and moving drama, not that he alerts me to the inability of 17th-century states in Europe to overcome the very conditions that produced the destructive war. To me, the latter is trivial, and the former is profound.
What appeals to me about Brecht's theory is his insistence on its dynamism and that we take every opportunity to examine our perceptions and beliefs from many different angles. What I dislike about it is that his doctrinaire reliance on Marxist theory is reductive, and in many ways represents the very opposite impulse.
Few ideas have been more harmful to German philosophy in the last two hundred years than the idea that it should be 'scientific.' As a matter of practice, those who believe this the most are generally the least scientific in their actual thinking, for science is the opposite of dogma, and holds no traffic with certainty. Science is an open-ended and ongoing process of exploration, not the formulaic application of certain hypothetical laws. Where Brecht's theory is in accord with actual science, I find if of use. But where Brecht, like Hegel and Marx, views science dogmatically, I think he has lost his way.