Oh Joy! Oh Rapture! The Enduring Phenomenon of Gilbert and Sullivan (review)

Anyone whose research interests include Gilbert and Sullivan will immediately recognize the author of this new book as the compiler and editor of the monumental Annotated Gilbert and Sullivan (originally in two volumes, 1982–4, but now available in a revised single volume published by Oxford University Press, 1996). Ian Bradley here sets out to discover why G & S have survived longer than many expected and, in answering this question, he presents us with a book that is quite distinct from all others on the famous pair. The focus is not on the nineteenth century, but on the present and the recent past, and he begins by discussing the British and American reception of G & S in the second half of the twentieth century. His intention is to understand why these comic operas have remained with us, despite their many detractors. The assumption that their appeal has been in decline is challenged; in fact, Bradley, backed by convincing evidence, argues that their position today may be stronger than ever.

A claim is made for the G & S operas being 'the principal begetters' of the stage musical. I wonder if this is overstating the case. Musical comedy, such as Sidney Jones's The Geisha, was not without its influence. I would not want, either, to underplay the American and British reception of operetta from Paris and Vienna. Bradley mentions that a significant innovation in G & S was the prominent role given to the chorus, but that is rarely a feature of musicals. Nevertheless, I would not want to give the impression that he fails to marshal evidence for his claim, and some readers may be more persuaded than I am. A good case is made for the influence of Gilbert's lyrics, and this is attested to in comments from Lorenz Hart, Ira Gershwin, and Tim Rice (among others).

Bradley moves on to show that quotations from Gilbert permeate our social life, and he selects examples from newspapers, books, TV dramas, and films. Yet, he notes that in the UK Gilbert and Sullivan are 'not quite kosher' (p. 17), citing the Arts Council's refusal to support either the old or the new D'Oyly Carte companies, and the absence of G & S from the repertory of the National Theatre—an institution that has not felt uncomfortable in staging Guys and Dolls. Bradley puts his finger on the problem by remarking that the operas fall between two stools, possessing neither high cultural status nor proletarian credentials. That, it should be stressed, is in the UK. The idea that liking G & S is a bit embarrassing is uncommon in the USA. I remember being asked by a puzzled American production company if it was true that people had a condescending attitude to G & S in the UK. This attitude was certainly evident when Mike Leigh was interviewed on BBC Radio 4 about his film Topsy-Turvy. He was asked directly: 'Most people think they're [G & S] pretty ghastly, don't they?' There are those who imagine you have to be soaked in nostalgia for Victorian bourgeois comforts and the days of Empire to love G & S, but that is not so. Indeed, the revolutionary socialist campaigner Paul Foot openly admitted his enthusiasm for their operas.

Bradley points out, in confronting criticisms made by David Cannadine (in Roy Porter (ed.), Myths of the English (1992)), that the 'patriotic strain' in G & S is not without its ambiguity. Cannadine, like some other critics, appears to take songs such as 'He Is an Englishman' as serious patriotic displays. Yet, surely the words 'In spite of all temptations to belong to other nations' show that Gilbert is making a subtle point about our inability to choose our place of birth. Moreover, does not Sullivan's choice of an extended melisma (a device he uses rarely) for the word 'Englishman' suggest parody? The question is: how do we...