Hauptmann, Wedekind and Schnitzler by Peter Skrine (review)

Book Reviews cult emotional and stylistic transitions Wilde calls for. Perhaps the subtle 1991 production of A Woman of no Importance by the RSC in London might have changed Powell's view that "epigrams are incompatible with sentiment." Critical conclusions apart, however, his study is engrossing and adds valuably to knowledge of Wilde's theatrical context. KATHARINE WORTH, UNIVERSITY OF LONDON PETER SKRINE, Hauptmann, Wedekind and Schnitzler. Macmillan Modern Dramatists. London: Macmillan 1989. Pp. xi, 175. £25.00; £6.95 (PB). The main problem with this book is apparent from its title. Peter Skrine aspires to acquaint English-speaking readers with the work of the three outstanding playwrights of turn-of-the century Austria and Germany. This is an admirable mission and Skrine may well be the scholar best qualified to execute it, but his publishers do not give him a chance. 175 pages, and very small pages at that, is an entirely inadequate length for even the most cursory survey and critical assessment of playwrights whose work is as substantial and as contrasting as that of Hauptmann, Wedekind, and Schnitzler. This book should have been in three volumes, with each volume as large as, if not larger than, the present single one. If Skrine were to write one of these volumes, it should be on Hauptmann. Hauptmann has never enjoyed much of a reputation in the States or Britain, primarily I suspect because of mediocre translation and the consequent fear among audiences that his work is humourless, lacking in dramatic interest, and Germanically heavy. Skrine refreshingly dispels these illusions in a comprehensive account of Hauptmann's dramatic output that encompasses its full variety and does not just stick to the naturalistic plays with which he made his name. In particular, Skrine, who has the enviable ability to write plot summaries that are truly gripping, revives the reputation of several of the major later works such as The Rats (I9II) and Before Sunset (1932). He argues persuasively that Hauptmann was not only a perceptive and critical observer of the social and political changes of his time, but a dramatist whose powerfully ironic vision guided audiences from disenchantment with the realities of modern urban life to horror at the drift of Germany toward dictatorship. Skrine's account of Hauptmann is potentially an important one, but alas that importance remains only a potential as he has space to provide merely the barest outline of Hauptmann's life and of the historical context within which he was writing. One hungers for more. Hauptmann, however, is accorded lavish treatment in contrast to that given to Wedeking and Schnitzler. Wedekind's colourful, Bohemian life is summarized in a paragraph a few lines long, while only the briefest sketch of Schnitzler's long career as a playwright, writer and doctor is provided. Then the coverage of these playwrights' work is uneven. Some of the better known plays, Spring Awakening, the Lulu plays, Anatol, Liebelei, and Round Dance, for example, are discussed extensively, but several Book Reviews of the lesser known, but equally provocative dramas are accorded scant treatment. The discussion of Wedekind is strangely diffuse. Although Skrine isolates the major themes of his plays, in particular sex and sexuality and art and commerce, it is difficult to acquire an overall grasp of the playwright's work. Frequent mention is made of the "outrage and hostility" generated by his plays, but specifics are rarely given. The unique qualities of the plays also seem to elude Skrine. He quotes, for example, Mahler 's judgment of Spring Awakening as "powerful, immensely talented, and full of poetry," without ever even attempting to define what that poetry is. Strangely enough, he even omits to mention the clear prefigurations of expressionism in the play. In his discussion of Schnitzler, in contrast to the section on Hauptmann, Skrine seems to accede to the critical cliches that have so skewed our perception of hism. Once again the tired old image of Schnitzler as the "bitter-sweet" poet of Habsburg Vienna in its autumnal decline is trotted out and dusted off. Much space is devoted to Anatol, Liebelei, and Round Dance, which questionably, especially in the case of the latter play, created this image. In...