George Bernard Shaw's "Back to Methuselah" is perhaps one of his lesser known works, except to serious aficionados of the stage. But should it have wider recognition today?
The first thing you notice is that his "preface" takes up a quarter of the book. If you are one of those readers that tends to skip over the author's preface, you may be very tempted to do so here, but I contend that you'll learn pretty much everything you need to know about the play from these initial ramblings. It's an entire treatise on his thoughts about Darwin which inspired this play. And it manages to inspire a chuckle or two. Shaw rivals Mark Twain in his constant but delightful dry wit, his smart-ass contempt for elitism, and his ingenious ability to point out stupidity among the intelligentsia. One moment he is talking about a scientist who began cutting off the tails of successive generations of mice to see if eventually they would be born with no tails, proving to Shaw that even educated people can be swept up in hysteria and do the stupidest things with no regard for decency. The next moment, he reviews the history of pre-Darwinian Evolutionist thought throughout the ages, showing that there is a difference between Darwin's brand of "circumstantial evolution" and the concept of "creative evolution."
It's this "creative evolution" that inspired this play, a reimagining of the Biblical book of Genesis mixed with Radium-Age science fiction. What Shaw is attempting here is quite ambitious, perhaps too much so to capture as antics on the stage. And after it was over, I wondered why Shaw just didn't publish his preface as an op ed and be done with the whole thing.
The play opens with Adam and Eve running across a dead deer that broke its neck in a fall. They become paranoid that something like this might happen to one of them, leaving the other alone forever unless the same would happen to them. They don't want to die, but the idea of going on living indefinitely is just too overwhelming, filled with perhaps endless threats and dangers. A snake appears, who tells them that she was in the Garden of Eden before they were born, when Lilith split herself into two, and the snake teaches them the secret of birth, so that they don't have to necessarily live forever, but may be reborn.
Millennia pass, and now we reach the "present day" of the 1920s. Human lifespans have dwindled since "the Fall" from 1000 years to a paltry 70 to 80 years. The Barnabas brothers, Franklin and Conrad, find this intolerable, because people do not mature fast enough to be good at anything in that time, or to develop enough wisdom to truly advance civilization. Political leaders make a mess of things and behave like children into their senior years. Therefore, the brothers go on a new political campaign to make the term of human life not less than 300 years, and their slogan is "Back to Methuselah". They don't have an elixir or any secret to longevity. Their hope is that by planting the seed of thought in the minds of everyone in the country that it is necessary to live longer, then they eventually will.
Fast-forward again to the year 2170 and beyond... not only has the thing happened, but eventually people who get old and die before their third century are looked upon as unfortunate children.
I absolutely love this premise. The execution, however, leaves a lot to be desired.
Shaw was influenced directly by Henrik Ibsen, so much so that Ibsen is given a shout out in Part III. Both playwrights had grown frustrated that the theatre was being used as mindless entertainment, and felt that there was nothing wrong with putting on a good show that could also be used as a platform for political, social, and religious ideas. Kind of sounds like the debate people are having today when it comes to film and comics being inundated with "the message." And indeed, some readers may find Shaw's plays a little heavy-handed with the often awkwardly placed detours where he has obviously inserted his own preaching. It does get downright... Yawn... It does get pretty darn... Zzzz.... It can be boring.
In fact, I think he could have trimmed down the length of this play considerably. It seems there was a potentially great story here. Instead, each segment that takes place in subsequent epochs is an excuse for new characters to artificially preach Shaw's ideas to the audience. This is a classic case of telling rather than showing.
It's also fair to warn you that there's a good deal of racism in the play, which may not be surprising for the time it was written, but it is how Shaw ultimately handles it that is different. His target was definitely and always the British government. He portrays the British as an immature people, obsessed with golf and cigars, to the point where politicians have to appoint foreigners from more mature peoples like in China and Liberia. A man they call Confucius, for instance, is one of these high-ranking officials, and clearly looks upon his English peers as barbarians, and bares their jibes with tested patience.
You might find the unusual spelling to be irritating. He uses archaic spellings like "shew" instead of "show," and he "doesnt" believe in using the apostraphe in contractions. Some contractions are even further reduced, as in "arnt" instead of "aren't". Americans may not notice that he drops the "u" in words like "colour," but will notice that "mathematicians" is "methematicians." He even lobbied for English spelling in general to be reformed to be more phonetic. Shaw made everything he wrote a political statement, down to his trademark choices of alphabet.
And because he is so obsessed with making a political point, he forgot to make any memorable or endearing characters. Everyone is either a bumbling and selfish buffoon or preaching the gospel according to Shaw. When longetivity becomes commonplace enough in the world, the elders are unbearable in their arrogance, treating the short-lived with contempt to the point that they consider genocide. This is the result of maturity? I am not sure that Shaw considered the irony of this very element of his play, and if he did, then I don't really know what was his point. That no matter how long or short we live is irrelevant, because we are all morons hopelessly bent on killing each other since Cain invented murder? That there's really no point in living at all? That we are a failed experiment of God? Do I need to read almost 500 pages of smart-ass quips, drab oratory, and Socratic propaganda to end with such a conclusion?
Overall, I wish this play wasn't so dull, because I saw a lot of promise in this interesting scenario, one that could make you think about what you could do with a few extra centuries. It's ironic, because I was just having this conversation with my wife. I didn't fool around that much when I was young. I completed my studies diligently and became a doctor at the relatively young age of 24. But I certainly was a babe in the woods, and didn't really know what I was doing. Decades later, I still don't know everything I need to know to be fully competent at my job. No physician is. Let alone learning about yourself, and how to be a better person and parent. And to be savvy with your finances and keep up with the house maintenance. Or to practice a hobby, music, or sports. Or to write Goodreads reviews. By the time you get the knack of anything, you get colon cancer and die before you can retire. Wow, this book really put me in a cheerful mood, didn't it? Or should I say, "didnt"?
Why were humans designed with such intelligence that they require such a long time to mature, only to degenerate after leaving behind offspring, no different than a common housefly? I thought perhaps Shaw had some interesting ideas on the subject, but he doesn't really. He just was using science fiction based on Creative Evolution as a launching point for poking fun at the British, and to make yuk yuk jokes. That's a shame, because despite the actual content of the play, I found myself thinking of what I could do with the extra time, and what that could mean for civilization, for good or bad.
If we did live longer, perhaps creatives would have learned by now that insertion of one's political opinions in a play for stage or screen doesn't actually work. It titillates the members of one's own club, but fails to actually reach anyone else to change their minds. Such work never achieves timeless status, which is ironic for a play that spans tens of thousands of millennia and is supposed to be asking timeless questions.
In the end, Shaw would have been better off just writing a play for good old fashioned entertainment after all.
SCORE: 2.5 out of 5, rounded to 3