Czech Puppet Theatre and Russian Folk Theatre

Ed. note: We present this essay, translated for the first time from Russian (and Czech) into English, both for its insights into traditional Czech and Russian popular theatre and, perhaps even more importantly, as a pivotal document in the development of 20th-century theory of puppet theatre. In the early 1920s Pyotr Bogatyrev and Roman Jakobson began publishing texts of the Moscow Linguistic School as a means of applying the semiotic theories of Ferdinand de Saussure to the practical situation of contemporary culture. In Soviet Russia contemporary culture was affected both by the practical urgencies of industrial development and long-standing interests in folk culture going back to Russian symbolism at the turn of the century. The Moscow School saw the importance of Bogatyrev’s essay in its attention to folk theatre as an area worthy of study, and particularly in its focus on the importance of the word structures in performance, at a moment when Russian theatrical experimentation had developed alternative languages of image and gesture. But, perhaps more importantly from our perspective, Bogatyrev’s essay marks a moment where a recognition of the richness of the words used in puppet theatre began to open up a whole new body of semiotic studies: the development of performing object theories undertaken by the successor to the Moscow School, which Bogatyrev and Jakobson began in Prague in 1928. These structural theories of the Prague Linguistic Circle (or “Prague School”) examined the function not only of words, but objects, and provided the foundation on which the performing object theories that followed are based. The essay was first published in 1923 as part of the Collections on the Theory of the Poetic Language. We have had to make a number of cuts and these are indicated by “[...].”

1. Czech Puppet Theatre

Figure 1.

A traditional Devil, by Dusan Petrán (1991). (Photo by Orlando Marra; courtesy of Vit Horejs of the Czechoslovak American Marionnette Theater)

Figure 2.

A 1920s photo of traditional Czech puppets made in the 19th century by an unknown carver in New York City’s Czech-American community. From left: Game Warden, Woman, Devil, a Peasant dressed as a Robber, Peasant Woman, Turk, and two Bearded Men. (Photo by Sherril Schell; courtesy of Jan Hus Church & Neighborhood House)

Figure 3.

A Queen puppet, carved in the 1920s by a member of the Král family of Bohemia, and used by Matej Kopecky VI and his son Miroslav Kopecky. (Photo by Orlando Marra; courtesy of Vit Horejs)

Figure 4.

An Old Man and a Witch by two unknown Czech folk carvers, c. 1900. (Photo by Orlando Marra; courtesy of Vit Horejs)

Figure 5.

Kaspárek, by an unknown Czech carver, c. 1900. (Photo by Orlando Marra; courtesy of Vit Horejs)

Figure 6.

A traditional Devil, by Dusan Petrán (1991); with Faust (anonymous, 19th century); Kaspárek, by Jitka Rímská (1989); a Black Devil, by Mikolás Sychrovsky (mid-19th century); and, in the background, a Big Devil by Václav Krcál (1990). (Photo by David Schmidlapp; courtesy of Vit Horejs)

Figure 7.

A Peasant Couple, made by an unknown 19th-century carver. (Courtesy of Vit Horejs)

Figure 8.

A scene from the Czechoslovak American Marionnette Theatre’s Faust, featuring traditional and contemporary Czech puppets. From left: Seahorses (Ales puppets) by Münzberg (1912–1918); Faust (carver unknown, 19th-century) riding Vodník (The Water Spirit) by Modry & Zanda (c. 1920–25); Kaspárek (or Pimprle) by Jitka Rímská (1989) riding a small Vodník (also by Münzberg). (Photo by David Schmidlapp; courtesy of Vit Horejs)

Figure 9.

King and Queen by Bohumil Vesely for the Münzberg Company (c. 1912–1922). (Photo by David Schmidlapp; courtesy of Vit Horejs)

A strong case for puppet theatre is made by its admirers and followers. Among them we find such names as Plato, Aristotle, Horace, Marcus Aurelius, Apulius, Shakespeare, Cervantes, Molière, Swift, Fielding, Voltaire, Goethe, Byron, Beranger, and others. In recent years there has been a pull towards puppet theatre amongst many great men of the theatre. Bernard Shaw recommends that all actors “go to the puppet theatre.” “Every school of drama,” in his opinion, “should have its own puppet theatre.” The famous English director Gordon Craig gives high praise to puppet theatre. The great Russian directors Yevreinov, Meyerhold, and Tairov give a great deal of consideration to puppet theatre in their theoretical work and borrow from its technique for their own productions. Not long ago, at the state theatre in Berlin, there were stagings of Molière’s comedies George Dandin and The Doctor in Spite of Himself in which the movement of the actors was stylized after that of puppets.

In this section I will offer information about puppet theatre in Czechoslovakia, a country where puppet theatre plays a prominent role in cultural life. I will not simply assert this but cite statistics: at present in Czechoslovakia there are 1,000 folk puppet theatres, 2,000 puppet theatres connected to schools and cultural organizations, and innumerable family puppet theatres which are not counted in any official tally. The numbers speak for themselves.

In Czechoslovakia the two most prevalent forms of puppet theatre are loutkové divadlo, in which the puppets are manipulated with the help of strings, and the so-called bramborové divadlo [literally “potato theatre”], in which puppets are worn on the hands and are moved by the fingers. Brabmorové divadlo is less prevalent in Czechoslovakia than loutkové divadlo and has been kept alive primarily by folk puppeteers.

At a fair in Prague I saw a pantomime done by folk puppeteers in the bramborové divadlo style. Kaspárek and the Jew appear on the stage. Kaspárek gets into a fight with the Jew, kills him, and hides him in the coffin. The Jew’s wife arrives. She has come to mourn her husband. Kaspárek kills the widow too and hides her in the coffin. The Devil appears. He brings in a gallows and orders Kaspárek to put his head in the noose. Kaspárek asks the Devil to teach him how to do it. The Devil puts the noose over his own head, and Kaspárek pulls the noose and throws the Devil in the same coffin. At the end of the performance Kaspárek and his friend throw a live mouse (which throughout the performance has been sitting on the other side of the footlights) into the air and catch it in mid-flight. And with that, the simple performance comes to an end. The hostess of the bramborové divadlo circulates among the public and collects voluntary donations in a dish... And then the same performance begins all over again.

The majority of theatres connected to schools and cultural institutions are essentially loutkové divadlo, theatres of puppets on strings.

We will now take a look at the practical aims of educational puppet theatre. Puppet theatre in Czechoslovakia is used as a pedagogical tool. More often than not children experience their first contact with native literature and folktales in schools by means of puppet theatre. The majority of contemporary puppet plays are adaptations of native folktales. In one Czech middle school Elektra and Hamlet were staged in the puppet theatre. For the production of Elektra an exact replica of a Greek stage was built. The performance was directed by one of Czechoslovakia’s best scholars of classical theatre, University Professor [Josef] Král. The students themselves operated the puppets and spoke their lines. It is not uncommon for elementary school children to participate in puppet theatre productions. The teacher reads a story and the children each take a puppet and perform the story on their own. One teacher explained that in places where there is a mixed population of Czechs and Hungarians, Czech children rushed to Czech schools primarily because they have puppet theatres, while the Hungarian schools do not. In this way, puppets are used to defend national identity.

Currently there is an attempt in Czechoslovakia to use puppet theatre for the dissemination of medical propaganda. A Czech doctor wrote a medical play with the following characters: Infectious Bacteria, Fly, Shoemaker, and Kaspárek—a comic character who appears in almost all puppet theatre plays. The Shoemaker lives in a little room that he never airs out or cleans. Infectious Bacteria sneaks up on the Shoemaker. The Fly, Bacteria’s assistant, tries to infect every corner of the domicile. Kaspárek sees trouble coming, and despite the protests of the Shoemaker, flings the windows wide open, ventilating the room and embarking on a battle against the enemies of humanity.

Now let us look at artistic trends in Czech puppet theatre. The naturalistic trend comes from folk puppeteers. The main goal of the advocates of the naturalistic trend is to so master their materials that the public will forget they are watching wooden puppets instead of human beings. [...] I had the good fortune of being backstage at the largest puppet theatre in Czechoslovakia, located in Pilsen [Loutkové divadlo ceskich ferialnick osad]. The director and head of this theatre is the old folk puppeteer [Katel] Novák, who has been working with string puppets for nearly 50 years. You have to hear the passion with which he recites the lines of his wooden actors. The old nationalistic historic drama The Death of ¥i1ka was playing. ¥i1ka is fatally wounded in battle and on his deathbed learns of his troops’ victory. Novák pronounced the dying words with such grand emotion that the old puppeteer himself nearly cried. As soon as Novák takes a puppet in his hands it comes to life. Every word is accompanied by a corresponding movement of arms, legs, head, and body. Such puppeteers bring their wooden actors to life so completely that not only do they convince their public that the puppets are “living people,” but they half believe it themselves. One begins to understand the tales told about old Czech folk puppeteers. For example, a puppeteer was summoned to court and accused of launching political attacks from the stage of the puppet theatre. He appeared in court with Kaspárek in his hands, and announced that he was completely innocent because everything was Kaspárek’s fault.

It is important to note that during the nationalist revival [of the 19th century] puppeteers played a large role in native-language propaganda by performing in Czech. When the authorities tried to force famous folk puppeteer [Matej] Kopecky to perform in German, Kopecky cunningly replied that although he could speak German, his puppets did not know that language. Notwithstanding the general tendency toward naturalism, there have been a number of nonnaturalistic conventions in folk puppet theatre that still fit within the naturalistic trend; for example, the conventional declamation style of various puppet characters. Some schools go even further, and use colloquial speech in their puppet shows instead of conventional declamation, thus taking the naturalistic tendency of folk puppeteers to the point of the absurd.

In opposition to the naturalistic trend and its efforts to imitate the theatre of living actors, a new trend has emerged among many puppet theatre directors in which the puppet faces and bodies are stylized. (One folk puppeteer remarked with contempt that these puppets look nothing like people.) The art of these puppets is to maintain rather than lose their puppet nature, so that with their awkward, stylized movement they will achieve the greatest expressiveness possible—which not even living actors have yet been able to attain. Obviously, this new trend has advantages over naturalism.

This, in brief, is the current state of Czech puppet theatre.

2. Russian Folk Theatre

Until recent years Russian folk theatre has remained aesthetically foreign and unacceptable to students of Russian literature. [...] Everything “beautiful” in folklore, everything aesthetically pleasing to the researcher, is projected by him into antiquity and considered an echo of the past.

Everything that from an aesthetic point of view is foreign is declared a recent degeneration, and considered the result of the recent corrupting influence of the city and factory. [...] The history of folklore according to researchers is considered a history of poetic degradation, gradual perversion, and oblivion. The works of oral tradition, in their present context and in the context of their gradual development over time, are of little interest to today’s researchers. [...] The anthropological school regards folklore from the point of view of paleontological linguistics, in which it exists as a graveyard of primitive man’s cultural experiences. The mythological school, which presents itself not from a historical perspective but as a part of the past itself, searches folklore for echoes of ancient beliefs in the form of myths. The theory of intertextuality does not value concrete evidence of a poetic work, nor the laws shaping it, but rather the existence of a particular “x” which becomes evident and remains present throughout all of the work’s migrations. For the historical school the poetic work is valued first and foremost as a historical document, the evidence of historico-cultural facts. Clearly, only the initial form of the work of art will interest the proponent of this movement, or else only those later layers that are not caused by the laws of artistic evolution, but which directly reflect the phenomena of social life. Naturally, Russian folk theatre, whose recent literary origin is evident, and which lacks any form of documentary material or evidence, did not attract the attention of researchers. [...]

We will digress slightly to explain the reasons why folk theatre is an important topic for research. Scholars coming from the romantic outlook perceived a sharp contrast between the oral tradition, which they saw as a product of collective creation, and literature, which they considered an individual creation. The very idea of a collective creativity was confusing enough to provoke a strong reaction among the practitioners of this newest of scholarly pursuits. Today the view that so-called “folk creation” in actuality is no different from “individual” creation is beginning to prevail. More and more attention is paid to the individuality of the storyteller, and to those alterations he makes in “his” performance. [...]

Another characteristic feature that distinguishes folk drama as an advantageous object of study [...] is its intelligibility due to the recent nature of many of its literary origins. [...] In folk theatre, we can make an almost direct comparison between the poetics of the original source and the poetics of an episode as it appears in its borrowed form. It has been shown repeatedly that the study of folk theatre could provide very interesting results and could in part clear up many questions about the people themselves. Once again let us stress that folk drama is not a fragment of the past, nor is it an artistic relic. [...] Folk drama lives and evolves together with the people, reflecting their own most pressing needs and everyday poetics. [...] In a stylistic analysis of the speech of characters from Czech puppet theatre I have presented numerous stylistic parallels from Russian folk theatre.

3. The Common Character of Stylistic Methods in Czech Puppet and Russian Folk Theatre

Now we will examine the style of speech of the comic characters in Czech puppet theatre (mainly the roles of Kaspárek and the peasants), and compare it to the speech style of the comic characters of Russian folk theatre. We will examine oxymoron, metathesis, play with synonyms and homonyms, repetition, and so on.

Oxymoron

By oxymoron we mean the combination of an attribute and a defined object in which the existing meaning of the attribute is the opposite of the existing meaning of the object. The attribute may be an adjective referring to a noun, a verb referring to a noun, and so forth. Here are some examples.

Adjective + Noun. In one Czech play, Kaspárek says: “Only I and the deaf-and-dumb Shouter somehow escaped.” We come across similar constructions in Russian folk theatre. In Tsar Maximillian, the deacon says: “There stands a rutabaga church, with carrot doors, and turnip locks.” We come across an even more complex case in a Czech play. A list of nouns describing a conceptual whole is given, but the adjectives applied to the nouns as a group describe them as if they are only a part of the conceptual whole: “Men and women are the worst people in the world” (Vesely 1914–1916, 3:57).

Noun + Noun. In one Czech play we find: “Wait, who is called Zan around here? (About himself) Matvej? No, that’s not it—I’m Matvej. Fedra? No, he’s Fedra” (Vesely 1914–1916, 1).

Verb + Noun. In a Czech play the character Vorisek answers a student’s declaration that a flute is missing a valve with the following: “That hole fell out” (Vesely 1914–1916, 1). We find the same thing in Russian folk theatre. In one play, a Priest says: “The deceased old kook! Died on Tuesday./ We’ve come to bury him./ He’s looking out the window” (Oncukov 1911:134). [...]

Verb + Adjective. Kaspárek: “So I’ll come a dead man” (Vesely 1914–1916:75).

We also count as oxymorons the combination of two or more phrases that speak of the same thing but have opposite meanings. For example, the puppeteer St. Karfiol always said, “Let me in front and I’ll follow you” (Vesely 1914–1916, 1:3). In a Czech play a lamplighter declares: “Now I must reform myself: I can’t drink beer for I forgot to light the lamps and for that I was beaten. Now I will drink vodka every quarter of an hour” (Vesely 1914–1916, 1:3). We find something similar in the speech of the deacon in Tsar Maximillian. At first the deacon declares that it is not possible to do anything easier, but then does something considerably more difficult. He says: “I see a stump/ And in the stump a hole!/ I stick my finger in the hole/ But it doesn’t come out;/ I put a pole in/ But it doesn’t pass through;/ I got angry and went in there myself” (Vinogradov 1914, version II:81). This type of oxymoron, constructed around the opposition of two or more phrases, often appears in Russian folk theatre. [...]

Metathesis

By metathesis we mean the transposition of separate parts of a word or parts of a phrase, one in the place of the other. The parts of a word are rearranged.

In one Czech play we find:

STUDENT

I am a stoor pudent [studej chudent].

VORISEK

Who are you?

STUDENT

Pardon me, I meant to say I am a poor student [chudej student]. (Vesely 1914–1916, 1:92)

Individual words within a phrase are also transposed: “I pump the log full of firewood and chop the bucket full of water” (Vesely 1914–1916, 3:22). [...] In Faust, Wagner says to Kaspárek: “Let’s go home and chop firewood and draw water.” Kaspárek answers: “What are you saying? I must chop water and draw firewood.” Some puppeteers will reverse the parts of the word: “waw drater” [μtipi dªvati]. One can also find metathesis in Russian folk theatre. For example, in the play The Naked Lord, take the following conversation between a lord and a village elder: ¹

GENTLEMAN

Did my stallion really croak [pokolel]?

ELDER

He died, my lord (pomer).

GENTLEMAN

You’re sure he croaked?

ELDER

He’s dead.

GENTLEMAN

Well tell me how he croaked.

ELDER

I’ll tell you why he died: As soon as your dear mama, the one-eyed bitch, croaked, they carried her to the cemetery. He was upset, became overexcited, and broke his leg and died right there.

GENTLEMAN

What do you mean my mama died?

ELDER

The old bitch croaked.

GENTLEMAN

You’re sure she died?

ELDER

Sure. She croaked.

GENTLEMAN

Do you see, Maria Ivanovna, horses die and people croak. (Oncukov 1911)

Synonym

[...] As an example of play with synonyms, I will offer the [...] phrase of the King from a Czech puppet play: “Buy yourself two ropes, hang yourself on one [na tom jednom obes sebe], and on the other be hanged [a na tom druhym tebe].” In Russian folk theatre, play with synonyms can be found in The Naked Lord.

GENTLEMAN

How can this be? I had wine cellars, cellars full of Rhine wine.

OLD MAN

There were, sir. We went down there once and found two bottles of Rhine wine, took ‘em, and they got smashed.

GENTLEMAN

Did you drink them?

OLD MAN

No, [we] got smashed. (Oncukov 1911)

Homonym

Often in the plays of Czech puppet theatre we come across homonyms—words that sound the same but have different meanings.

STUDENT

I make my living giving lessons [hodiny].

VORISEK

What do you give?

STUDENT

I give classes [hodiny]. ²

VORISEK

Give me any watch [hodiny] that needs to be repaired, and I will stop it completely.

STUDENT

I train little children.

VORISEK

I’m too old for training. (Vesely 1914–1916, 1:92)

Another example:

STUDENT

The red paint is too loud [mnoho krici].

VORISEK

It roars like a lion. (Vesely 1914–1916, 1:93)

In one Czech play there is a long dialogue based on the surnames of a joiner and a shoemaker, in which the client and the artisan simply cannot understand one another:

STUDENT

You can’t be the joiner Frantisek Vorisek.

VORISEK

I am Frantisek Vorisek, but only a shoemaker. (Vesely 1914–1916, 1:92)

These last two sentences explain the misunderstanding.

  We also find play on homonyms in Russian folk theatre:

ATAMAN

(Asking the Jew) What did they hang him for [“by” and “for” are the same pronoun in this case]?

THE JEW

By the neck by a rope.

ATAMAN

Yes but for [by] what fault?

THE JEW

Not by the fault, but by the neck by a rope.

ATAMAN

What did they hang him for [in this case, also: “what did they hang him in”]?

THE JEW

A blue caftan.

ATAMAN

To hell with him (The Jew is thrown out). (Oncukov 1911:105)

This dialogue is built [...] on the fact that different meanings are ascribed to the same pronoun by different characters.

Phrases can acquire a series of different meanings when left unfinished. This scene from a puppet play is based on the use of unfinished sentences and the different meanings attributed to pronouns by various characters:

VEVERKA

My compliments, are you the master of the house?

MASTER

Yes, I’m the master of the house. What can I do for you?

VEVERKA

I was talking with the clerk Mr. Mrázek and he sent me...

MASTER

In that case, I know everything, if Mr. Mrázek sent you. But you know, I’m an honest old man, and I don’t want to deceive anyone—I must tell you the truth: She is old, terrifically old.

VEVERKA

Mr. Mrázek told me...

MASTER

And besides I lent her to this musician and he took her God knows where in the middle of the night and broke her leg in a fight; I gave her to him in good condition, and look what comes of it!—Well to make an agreement, give me 20 gold pieces. It goes without saying she’s worth the money. [...]

VEVERKA

I am a bank official and I want to get married. I get a salary of 1,200 gold pieces and I’m looking for a wife with a suitable dowry. Mr. Mrázek told me that you have a 24-year-old daughter and that she came with a dowry of 20,000 gold pieces, but he deceived me, since you admit that she’s old and shrill and has a broken leg. I don’t even want to see her. Good day!

MASTER

You mean you didn’t come here to buy the harp? That’s a different matter! My dear sir, I have a 24-year-old daughter, and she does come with a dowry of 20,000 gold pieces.

VEVERKA

But is she shrill?

MASTER

The harp is, but my daughter sings all day long.

VEVERKA

Her leg’s not broken?

MASTER

That’s the harp’s leg, not my daughter’s. My daughter has legs like a table. Here’s the thing. I have an old harp for sale, and Mrázek promised me he would find a buyer for it, and also a groom for my daughter. I thought you wanted to buy the harp. There’s the reason for the whole misunderstanding. Ha! Ha! Ha! Let’s go, my dear man, I will introduce you to my daughter. I think you will like her. (Vesely 1914–1916, 1:140–41)

[...]

Metaphor

Czech puppeteers are great lovers of metaphorical expressions. Let me give an example:

A knight is beating all his servants with a stick. Meanwhile, a guest arrives. “Pardon me please,” says the knight to the guest, “for not saying hello to you. But you know, when a person is putting his house in order, he’s always absentminded!” (Vesely 1914–1916, 3:120) [...]

Realization of Metaphor

By realization of metaphor we mean the poetic method used when a metaphorical expression is interpreted in terms of its original, literal meaning. For example:

BEGGAR

A poor wandering artisan asks for your kindness in offering any support [o nejakou podporu].

GENTLEMAN

What do you need support for [na co shcete podporu]? You’ve got a stick in your hand and can lean [podeprít] on it all you want. [...] (Vesely 1914–1916:112)

In Faust, Kaspárek announces:

I know what to do. I’ll crawl up on that little table and sit on that little book. Hop! The whole time I will be studying. It [education] will seep into my head, and if it doesn’t get to my head it will get as far as my stomach, and even then I will have it in me just the same! (He sits on the book). Heh-heh! I have seated myself marvelously. And it’s already creeping in, like ants!

(Vesely 1914–1916:26) [...]

Here is an example from the Russian folk play Tsar Maximillian.

TSAR MAXIMILLIAN

Who’s there? Someone of high rank?

MAXIMKO

The highest of all.

TSAR MAXIMILLIAN

Is it a field marshal?

MAXIMKO

No, I am not...

TSAR MAXIMILLIAN

Well is it a general?

MAXIMKO

No, I didn’t die [ne pomiral].

TSAR MAXIMILLIAN

It’s a colonel [polkovnik].

MAXIMKO

No, I’m not a corpse [pakoinik].

TSAR MAXIMILLIAN

Well who is it then?

MAXIMKO

Well aim higher [povyse]).

TSAR MAXIMILLIAN

Well don’t tell me it’s the one who walks on the rooftops [po kryse]?

MAXIMKO

Well yes, I am he, Tsar, your excellency.

Repetition

Separate words and phrases are repeated in order to create a comic effect. [...] Whole phrases or complexes of phrases are repeated in their entirety without any changes, or with very minor changes:

There once was a Tsar, the Tsar had a courtyard, in the courtyard hung a washcloth [mochala]. Shall we start from the beginning [s nachala]? There once was a Tsar, the Tsar had a courtyard, in the court hung a washcloth [mochala]. Shall we start from the beginning [s nachala]?... etc.

In Czech folk theatre Kaspárek is always singing the same song. Here not only the same words are repeated, but also the same melody. Kaspárek (sings):

This is the first verse, This is the first verse, This is the first verse, Verse, verse, verse.

Then, just like the first verse, he sings:

This is the second verse, This is the second verse, This is the second verse, Verse, verse, verse.

After that he sings: “This is the third verse” and so on, [...] just like the first verse.

In another type of repetition, a conversation takes place between two characters, during which the second character successively repeats the last words of the first character. Here is a scene from Czech puppet theatre.

STUDENT

Make me a flute.

VORISEK

A flute.

STUDENT

Of linden tree wood.

VORISEK

Of linden tree wood.

STUDENT

When you make the hole, make sure you make it smooth.

VORISEK

Make it smooth. [...] (Vesely 1914–1916, 1) [...]

Scenes Built on Contrast

Here one character pronounces words that make a dramatic impression. Another character says words that sound like those of the first, but which differ sharply in meaning and make a comic impression. For example:

MIL’FORT

Before we shoot ourselves, we must say good-bye to our sweethearts.

KASPÁREK

Go to it! I’ll go after you.

MIL’FORT

Akh, my darling Otilia!

KASPÁREK

O, you big-toothed Terezia!

MIL’FORT

I part from you with sorrow [se smutn3 louciacute;m]!

KASPÁREK

I introduce you to the jaws of hell [drapu te poroucím].

MIL’FORT

For your sake I go now into eternity.

KASPÁREK

I’m going to the hotel to get drunk out of spite. (Kopecky n.d.:455)

We find similar scenes in Russian folk plays. For example, in Tsar Maximillian:

TSAR MAXIMILLIAN

On my head you see my crown [koronu],
In my hands, a scepter [skipert’],
On my chest, crosses [kresty].

ADOLF

On your head I see your cow [korovu],
In your hands a violin [scrypku],
And on your chest pestles [pesty]. (Vinogradov 1914, version II:61) [...]

Nonsensical Speech

By nonsensical speech we mean the use of interjections and words that have no meaning, but are used to express the mood of certain characters. In the following example, khm or khe is added to each phrase of everyday expressions:

Little paths, little poles, khm! Silver is used to make wheelbarrows, khe! Rent money and tax money, khm! Paper cold pieces, khe! A cage beneath your clothes, khe!

Nonsense words color the following speech of Kaspárek:

Hopsa, Hejsa, tryndy ryndyletos neni jako jinkykdyby bylo jako jindiHopsa, hejsa, tryndy ryndy. (Kopecky n.d.:218)

[Let’s dance, tryndy ryndy This year is not like other times If it were like other times Let’s dance, tryndy ryndy.]

Compare this with an example from Russian folk theatre:

Priveli-li vy ko mne i go-go?Ja by ero o-go-go. [“o-go-go” refers to the “neigh” of a horse] Na tvojo o-go-goNashol o-go-goBultykh! Jako proslavisja! (Vinogradov 1914, version II:80)

[Would you come to me o-go-go I would o-go-go him On your o-go-go [He or I] found o-go-go Plop! Glory be!]

Characteristic Peculiarities in the Language of Certain Characters

Let us examine the phonetic, morphological, and lexicographic changes which appear in the speech of individual characters. We will look primarily at the observations made by Professor Jind2ich Vesely about the speech of characters belonging to the upper classes:

Many of the phrases used by typical puppet characters come from the Czech language in the period of its decline. There is an abundance of Germanisms, a mishmash of foreign and Czech words, and also terrible grammar, especially in passionate scenes, in which the puppeteer uses incorrect word endings to make them distinct from everyday life. It is frightening. Whereas ordinary people speak normally (for example Skrdla, who speaks like an ordinary provincial, inserting appropriate proverbs into his speech), Faust speaks to a lady created by the Devil, who tries to distract Faust from the cross: “Would you please go with me to my room for a couple of black coffee!” [na pár salkové serného kávy] Puppeteer Triska’s William Tell says “Mahommed, Diana, and Jupiter, me Turkish gods” [me turecké bohove], to which Oldrich replies: “Fall on your knees” [Radni na své kolena].

Skrdla or a knight from Kozlovitz would say it quite simply: “For two cups of black coffee” [Na pár salku cernyho kafe’ nebo “cerny kavy”] and “on your knees” [na svy kolena]. In this way the puppeteer deliberately makes the speech of the upper-class person incorrect.

(Vesely 1913:38–39)

Such emphasis on the speech of the upper classes cannot be found at all in Russian folk theatre [...]. It is true that to caricature the speech of racial minorities all forms of deformation are used, but that is only for the speech of minorities. [...]

Now we come to an examination of the way in which the speech of minorities has been passed down in Czech puppet theatre. The speech of Jews is marked by aspirated German pronunciation of the consonants (mostly the dental and the labial consonants). [...] The Latinization of the Czech language in puppet theatre plays also occurs. [...] Czech words are given Latin endings such as “um” and “at.” [...] There is a Russian folk anecdote in which the son of a peasant returns home from the seminary where he was studying. In a conversation with his father, he constantly adds the ending “us” to Russian words.

Repertoire

Until now we have examined separate passages and scenes of Czech and Russian folk theatre, as we would have examined the style of any other literary work. Now we will say a few words about the specific dramatic peculiarities of folk theatre.

We will look first at the repertoire of Czech puppet theatre, which is extremely varied. Among the 51 plays published by the son of the famous Czech puppeteer Matej Kopecky, are the old medieval dramas such as Doktor Faust and dramatizations of historical legends such as Old2ích and Bo1ena, and dramatizations of anecdotes such as Sir Franc of the Castle, and so on. The most popular of all are the plays about knights and chivalry.

Folk puppeteers liked to perform chivalrous plays best, for they always make the greatest impression. The heroic content of these plays always arouses interest in our people, who have always loved historical things. They were attracted by the rich, multicolored costumes of the knights, and their shining cuirassiers and helmets. All historical plays—in which the characters are knights, kings, and noblemen—were taken by the puppeteers from Czech history, as evidenced by their posters.

(Zátka 1915:121)

The Russian philosopher Prince Sergei Trubetskyi made the interesting observation that people love those plays best in which princes and counts appear. The passion of popular audiences for these kinds of plays is perfectly understandable: there is much more unusual and entertaining in them than in plays about the life of common people. And, vice versa, people of a higher class would be more interested in plays about the life of common folk because it is unknown to them and more unusual.

In the most popular Russian folk play, Tsar Maximillian, the main characters are the Tsar, knights, courtiers, and supernatural beings. [...] The characteristics of certain characters in Tsar Maximillian remind us of characters in chivalrous plays of Czech puppet theatre. [...]

Composition of the Plays

Czech puppet theatre is dependent on the characters of urban Czech live theatre. Czech puppet theatre has survived on the same plays offered by the regular theatre, with the exception of certain medieval plays, which became part of the puppet theatre long ago. If we look at the repertoire of the puppeteer [Matej] Kopecky, we will see that it contains plays from various epochs and many different literary trends. For this reason there is no unity in the compositional construction of Czech puppet plays. There is no unity, for example, in the development of dramatic fables. Before we speak of the composition of Czech puppet plays, it is necessary to analyze Czech plays of the live theatre.

This is not so in Russian folk theatre. Russian folk theatre has almost no connection to theatre of the higher classes, and for that reason, was forced to follow its own path and independently generate its own original methods, such as the formation of separate episodes and the connection of them into a unified play. It is true that Tsar Maximillian derived from a school drama, but we can see that in its subsequent development Tsar Maximillian greatly diverged from the compositional methods of scholastic drama and took an independent path.

Now we will examine those changes that Czech plays have suffered after falling into the hands of puppet theatres. First of all we must look at the improvisations of puppeteers.

They would not stick to the original text of the play, but would adjust it according to their needs. They would change the text partly according to the organization of their particular theatre, and partly according to the tastes of the public. They would throw away everything that was not necessary for the puppets, decorations, or props, and there was no way to avoid this situation. They would add everything that in their opinion was liked by the public and would insert huge sections that had nothing to do with the course of the play’s action. For example, they would add the public’s favorite scenes from other plays.

(Vesely 1914–1916, 3:122)

Vesely compared manuscript texts with published versions from which the manuscripts were derived, and made some observations about what led the puppeteers to make alterations from the published text. Here is a selection of such alterations:

GHOST

From time to time when I heard confessions, I would hear, over and over again—

ZDENEK

From time to time? You did?

GHOST

There, where the Elbe embraces the Orlitsa [etc.]

It was difficult for a puppeteer to change his voice so often and only for such short questions as “From time to time?” and “You did?” so these questions would be removed from the speech, and the ghost would simply say:

When I heard confessions from time to time I would hear over and over again: There where the Elbe [etc.] [...]

The same thing occurs in scenes where there are many characters onstage, and several of them are supposed to be talking at once about some incident or other. In such a case the puppeteer makes his work easier by having only one character tell the story, while the other characters play the role of mute extras. Usually one knight will speak instead of a whole crowd of knights (although in Klicpera’s variation other knights will participate in the conversation too). [...]

In the Russian Petrushka puppet theatre there is no scene in which more than two characters speak at once, and no scene in which several characters would immediately start talking. In Russian puppet theatre, as in folk theatre with live actors, improvisation is given free reign: because of their political attacks, Russian puppeteers, just like their artistic colleagues of the Czech puppet theatre, have often had to pay off the authorities. The best evidence of the extent of the development of improvisation in Russian folk theatre with live actors is the strong differences in the separate variations of the plays Tsar Maximillian and Lodka [The Boat]. Interestingly enough, even the characters who play an important role in a majority of the variations, such as Tsar Mamai in Tsar Maximillian, do not appear at all in some other versions. In some cases this can be explained by a lack of players (compare this with the elimination of roles due to lack of puppets in Czech puppet theatre). A clear example of the kind of radical changes to which the original text is subject is Pushkin’s poem “The Hussar.” This poem, which appeared in Tsar Maximillian almost without alteration, has been so completely changed in certain variations that neither its form nor its content can be recognized.

Costumes

We have already shown that historical plays have attracted the public with their colorful and well-made costumes, but these costumes sinned against historical truth.

Costumes contradicted history and were highly stylized. They were sewn from colorful material and abundantly decorated with gold and silver braids and fringes, multicolored gems and shiny coins. The artistic splendor of the puppet costumes, the abundance of colors, and the brilliance of the decorations all reminded one of the Rococo style and the brilliant cuirasses and the war-like arms of the time of the Napoleonic wars.

(Vesely 1914–1916, 2:116)

Puppets representing nobility from the cities and castles were especially splendidly dressed, but no attention whatsoever was given to the question of historical authenticity. “The peasants differed from the nobility with their national costumes, though these costumes were also inaccurate” (Vesely 1914–1916, 2:21).

The main purpose of the costumes adorning the characters of Russian folk drama is primarily to differentiate the principle characters from the surrounding public. Of course, it goes without saying that the actors wanted their costumes to reflect at least a particle of historical truth. [...]

The Audience

Theories of theatre pay little attention to the audience, but observations of the audience can serve as interesting evidence of how strongly a play is perceived and what sort of influence it exerts on the surroundings. A series of interesting observations on the young audiences of Czech puppet theatre has been published in the journal Loutká2. The audience very often took part; for example, when the robber Hrainoha is tracking “Gaspárek [a variant pronunciation of Kaspárek].” At the moment when Gaspárek appears onstage, the whole audience cries, “Gaspárek, don’t go that way, Hrainoha will kill you, that robber is on your trail!” Gaspárek replies in a mixture of Czech and Slovak: “You think I’m afraid of that scoundrel? I have a hard skull, and I’ll teach him with this stick!” As he says this he points to a long stick. “Bravo, Gaspárek!” resounds from all sides. “Hrainoha will pay for this,” announces a 70-some critic behind me. “What? You think Hrainoha is made of wax or something? He can stand up for himself better than that!” answers the only partisan for Hrainoha, seven-year-old Martin from Hamry. “My dear esteemed audience, hold your tongue! I’m going on,” Gaspárek reminds them. The performance continues.

Hardly any observations have been made about the audience of Russian folk theatre. Let us just note that in Russian folk theatre the audience often participates by singing the chorus. It is also interesting to note how originally the children in Czech audiences interpret the speech of the puppet actors. In one play the King says: “Run and arrest them, so that they won’t escape with that corpse!” Young boys often change the words of the king: “Run and arrest that corpse so he won’t escape!” Or the king says: “Three times each day pull him by both legs!” and the boys: “Three times each day pull out both his legs...” (Veil 1914:2).

A formalistic analysis of the linguistic devices of the comic characters of Czech puppet theatre shows their abundance and the ways in which they are uniquely distinct from the linguistic construction of comic characters in contemporary comedy. Comparing linguistic devices of Czech puppet theatre and Russian folk theatre, we have found that they have much in common. Of course, this resemblance cannot be explained by the influence of Czech theatre on Russian theatre or vice versa, but by the unity of the tastes and demands which have drawn audiences to both theatres, and also the tastes of the improvisers of these linguistic “lazzi”—Czech puppeteers and the performers of Russian folk theatre.