The plays of Harold Pinter combine comedy, menace, poetry and mystery to mesmerising and disturbing effect. My first encounter with Pinter came via a television production of No Man’s Land in the 1970s. I was hooked from start to finish despite the fact that the meaning of the play eluded me entirely. I’ve loved Pinter’s work ever since and continue to be entranced by the multilayered power of his imagination.
Michael Billington’s book, first published in 1996 and written with Pinter’s cooperation, is not a full biography, but essentially a critical biography which examines the work in relation to the life. Pinter’s life and work, it transpires, were intimately related, with much of his inspiration arising directly from his experience. An encounter would leave a lasting image in his mind and the image would eventually turn itself into a play. The extraordinary thing is that Pinter was able to transform these fragmentary moments of remembered experience into plays of universal relevance and political resonance. His years as an actor in the 1950s, slogging around British repertory theatres performing in formulaic dramas, also left its imprint on his dramaturgy. Some of his early plays are like Agatha Christie thrillers rewritten by Samuel Beckett.
Received opinion insists that Pinter was an apolitical writer who suddenly acquired a political consciousness in the 1980s. Billington, with his combination of biographical detail and close textual analysis of the plays, is able to demonstrate that received opinion is talking through its collective arse. A man who declared himself a conscientious objector aged 18, to the consternation of his uncomprehending parents, was hardly without political concern. Pinter’s first full-length play, The Birthday Party, is about a nonconformist who is crushed by the forces of convention. The themes which run through all the plays - the battle for territory, dominance and control, the use of language as a weapon - are fundamentally political ones. Billington argues, convincingly in my view, that Pinter’s plays collapse the barriers traditionally erected between personal and political drama. He is concerned with power structures, whether between state and citizen or in a marriage. For Pinter the personal is political and was long before that became a popular slogan.
He started as a poet but his poetic ambition achieved its best realisation on the stage. Old Times and No Man’s Land, while not containing a single line of verse, are nonetheless among the most perfect examples of poetic drama ever written. These plays are three-dimensional poems in which words and images are combined to haunting effect. They possess a seamless fluidity of structure which Billington suggests came from Pinter’s experience of writing for film and television. They are capable of almost limitless interpretation while retaining an impenetrable mystery.
Although never indifferent to public affairs it was only in the 1980s that Pinter fully emerged as a political activist and implacable opponent of American foreign policy. He became that rarity in British cultural life, the politically committed writer. Predictably, he was met with hostility and abuse from most journalists. Billington observes how the British press, rather than engaging with Pinter’s arguments, chose instead to attempt to discredit him by creating a caricature of a pompous, bad-tempered, angry old man.
This is an insightful blend of critical analysis and biography. Biography of a writer is valuable only if it extends or deepens our understanding of his or her work. This book certainly does that, casting light on the autobiographical origins of the plays, while never making the mistake of reducing Pinter’s work to his biography.