Darkness We Carry

CHAPTER SIX: Responses and Responsibilities

C H A P T E R zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQ Six Responses and Responsibilities Words and eggs must be handled with care. Once broken they are impossible things to repair. —Anne Sexton, "Words" IHERE is no basis any longer for speaking of the Holocaust as unimaginable for, in addition to the historical fact that it was imagined by the German state fifty years ago, it has been reimagined in artistic fact innumerable times since. What standards should be used to determine the achievement of a piece of Holocaust literature and, in particular, a Holocaust drama? Aside from the general observation that no serious artistic work of any kind can succeed if it lacks technical skill, human insight, and moral passion, in the case of drama there is an additional requirement of a sensitive and disciplined production. In this final chapter, I want to expand upon the two additional criteria regarding theatrical approaches to the Holocaust that I discussed in previous chapters, for they deeply influence how we respond to and evaluate Holocaust drama. First, no Holocaust drama can be successful if it demeans the suffering or memory of the mass of Holocaust victims; and, second, no Holocaust drama can be successful if it distorts or denies history for the purpose of advancing otherwise unrelated causes.1 There is a need, of course, to specify what is meant by successful. (I do not mean commercial success, although a few plays and a number of films have succeeded in this way.) An excellent definition is suggested by Peter Demetz: zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED 116 Responses and Responsibilities 117 zyxwvutsrq In the long run, our discussion of what kind of writing should be appropriate to the age of Auschwitz is totally irrelevant, if it touches on issues of genre alone and does not look for the presence of compassion. I cannot believe that categories of tradition and experimentation, realism and surrealism are more important than the individual text, in whatever mode, as long as it prevents us from believing that Auschwitz was just another event in world history.2 The meaningful connection between practical and ethical criteria is a helpful guide to finding standards by which to evaluate Holocaust drama. It is this kind of a connection I have argued for and stressed in this book. One benefit of keeping it in mind is that it becomes easier to distinguish between bad productions of good Holocaust dramas and good productions of bad plays that engage the Holocaust experience. I In the previous chapters, I have discussed a number of plays that either adhere to or neglect the critical standards I have suggested. In chapter 4, I discussed the irresponsible motives of several plays that present pernicious images of interchangeable personalities between the Nazis and their victims. In chapter 5, I noted how selected German writers of the 1970s and 1980s (Fassbinder, Bernhardt, Kipphardt) have chosen to diminish the presence and the importance of Jews and Jewish experience, preferring instead to show images that degrade Jews (and others), exculpate Germans, or excoriate everyone. A majority of the other playwrights I have discussed have rejected the sensational and exploitative depictions of the Holocaust and have written plays that are moving and profound meditations on crucial human issues. The appropriateness of the work of the Liebermans {Throne of Straw), Sobol {Ghetto), Delbo {Who Will Carry the Word?), and others discussed in the early chapters of this book, are examples of the best in Holocaust drama and of any drama: they are generous and rigorous in their retelling of the Holocaust story, and although they may pass harsh judgments or possess grave reservations about human action, their respect for history and desire for understanding is never in doubt. One play I have not considered thus far offers a difficult test for my criteria concerning the evaluation of this ever-growing body of work I have called elsewhere the theatre of the Holocaust. It is a drama of considerable skill and compassion, but with significant flaws as well, and I 118 Responses and Responsibilities zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcba discuss it now because its ambiguous achievement poses the clearest example of the problems encountered in the criticism of Holocaust drama. Martin Sherman's Bent,3 produced first in England in May 1979, and in America later that year, has as its theme the treatment of homosexuals in Nazi Germany. The six scenes of the first act move us from the apartment of two homosexuals, Rudy...