Back in the eighties and nineties, and decades before I discovered the equally classy chic-named writer Somerset Maugham, Tennessee Williams was my Somerset Maugham. Late last night, perched on my library ladder, intent on rereading Williams's Four Plays: Summer and Smoke/Orpheus Descending/Suddenly Last Summer/Period of Adjustment, I saw this book right beside Four Plays. Strangely, I don't recall ever seeing it before, but a moment like that is easily, beautifully summed up in one word: serendipity.
Mister Paradise and Other One-Act Plays were written before he hit the big time, and has most everything I crave for in a Tennessee Williams play. Apart from a few new characters, the cast is an aperitif of the usual suspects (stereotypes, if you must, and I don't say this to disparage) whom I've already met in his later plays: overbearing mothers in all their faded glory, sexually repressed, almost manic, but otherwise perfectly polite, even naive adolescents, loud, cheating husbands with their discreet, prudent wives, gentlemen callers and their chatty kept women. And then there's his all-too familiar character, the one I always end up championing, be it male, female, or trans: the has-been. Lest I forget, some quick thoughts on each play:
1) These Are the Stairs You Got to Watch - Welcome to the theater of ill repute. Aka the fun house.
2) Mister Paradise - That pesky college girl is me pestering the writer Joseph Epstein, who is neither Jonathan Jones nor Mister Paradise.
3) The Palooka - One of the sadder plays in the batch, and most readers will get the drift early on. (I must be the only one of my generation who knows who Joe Palooka was.)
4) Escape - Short and tragic.
5) Why Do You Smoke So Much, Lily? - Overbearing, has-been mother? Check. Sexually repressed, almost has-been daughter? Check. Still an interesting read.
6) Summer at the Lake - See #5, replace daughter with son, who is opportunities and perhaps a therapist or two away from being a has-been. I wonder what Williams would make of today's youth?
7) The Big Game - Now this one didn't feel like a Williams play. Instead it reminded me of O. Henry's short story The Last Leaf. And oddly enough, practically all the characters are likeable.
8) The Pink Bedroom - Was this a prototype for Sweet Bird of Youth? I had Ed Begley and Madeleine Sherwood in mind the entire time I was reading this.
9) The Fat Man's Wife - Williams had to have seen this from one of those movies he frequented. I know I have. (I imagined Dana Andrews portraying Dennis Merriwether.)
10) Thank You, Kind Spirit - Another one which didn't feel like a Williams play. This seemed juvenile.
11) The Municipal Abattoir - 1984's Winston Smith takes a shot--no pun intended--at comedy. I'm glad Williams did not steer more plays in this direction.
12) Adam and Eve on a Ferry - Frieda Lawrence has a plant fetish. Hubby D.H.'s fetish, naturally, veers toward the more unconventional, like chatting up strangers who feel compelled to share their escapades, sexual or otherwise, thwarted or otherwise, with him. Surreal.
13) And Tell Sad Stories of the Deaths of Queens... - My favorite of the lot, and little wonder, it's the play which read most like his later ones. In Candy I recognized Blanche, teetering between desperation and pride, and the cunning of Maggie the cat, eyes constantly on the prize. Some prize--that Karl would even qualify as a Kowalski-Lite!
This has been such a satisfying read, I practically inhaled the stories in a matter of hours. The foreword by Tennessee Williams's cast regulars Eli Wallach and Anne Jackson, and introduction by scholars Nicholas Moschovakis and David Roessel only served to whet my anticipation and appetite, especially after Anne quoted Anthony Paradise early on:
"The motion of life is upwards, the motion
of death is down. Only the blindest of all
blind fools can fail to see which is going to
be finally--highest up! Not death, but life,
my dear. Life--life! I defy them to stop it
forever! Not with all their guns, not with all
their destruction! We will keep on singing.
Someday the air all over the earth will be full
of our singing."
Three and a half stars.