The drama may be a vehicle for any mental concept: satire, ethics,
cynicism, philosophy, realism, poetry, social problems, melodrama. Sane
optimism and realism suffused with poetry are the inspiring forces of
the brothers Quintero. They have no thesis to prove, except that life is
sweet and worth living; no didactic aim, except to show that human
nature is still sound in the main. It is a distinct relief to read plays
so natural and serene, after one has surfeited upon the products of many
contemporary continental playwrights, the monotony of whose
subject-matter is so obvious that not even supreme technical skill can
conceal the sterility of the authors. The eternal triangle, the
threadbare motivation into which true affection never enters for a
moment, have been ridden to death, and even a French critic is led to
comment with resignation upon "this completely unmoral world which is
almost the only one we are permitted to see upon the stage". [F] When
literature becomes so far separated from life, it needs to be led back
to reality, and the excuse, often made, that the average person's life
is not an interesting theme for dramatic presentment, argues nothing but
impotence on the part of the writers. There has never been an age nor a
place where average life did not contain potential material for a
creative writer. The Quinteros have undertaken precisely to present the
average existence of the bourgeois and lower classes in an interesting
way, instead of racking the audience with problems that to at least nine
people out of ten are no problems at all. Like Dickens, they touch the
comedies and tragedies of daily life with a poetic light, and the
revelation of Spanish character reminds us once more of the saying that
Spaniards, more than any other European people, resemble Americans. It
was William Dean Howells who said, in writing of one of the later novels
of Palacio Valdés, that he found in it "a humanity so like the
Anglo-Saxon." He would surely extend the statement to the Quintero
comedies.
[Footnote F: J. Ernest-Charles, in _L'Opinion_, Dec. 2, 1911:
"Tristan Bernard et Michel Corday nous conduisent une fois de plus dans ce
monde complètement amoral qui est presque le seul que l'on soit admis à
fréquenter au théâtre."]
In the later plays of the Quinteros one notices an increasing eagerness
to impress the beauty of vigorous, right-minded living upon the
audience. One must be frank, and say that the most successful plays are
those in which the moral is best concealed. They do not always escape
the pitfall of bourgeois sentimentality.
In dramatic technic the Quinteros and Jacinto Benavente have introduced
in Spain an important change. The drama is the one literary genre in
which one looks for action in abundance, for one-piece characters,
intrigue, surprise, conflict of passions, climax, then the solution of
the knot. Otherwise, of course, the drama is not dramatic. Scribe and
Sardou are the arch effectivists, who harrow the spectators' feelings by
sheer cleverness or brutality, and so induce him to forget that what he
is witnessing is not life. In modern Spain, Echegaray has not disdained
the coincidences, duels and other stage effects of this school,
combining them with the moral or social problem of Ibsen. Benavente and
the Quinteros have sought to discard all factitious devices, and to
arouse interest solely by means of natural dialog, suggestive charm,
color and accurate characterization. The eternal struggle in art between
exact copying of nature and artificial selection and arrangement has
swayed to the former side, perhaps farther than was ever before seen in
the literature of the stage. Plot is always secondary with these
writers, and in fact many of their plays could be denominated speaking
tableaux of life better than dramas in the conventional sense. The
Quinteros themselves define their theory: "El interés subsistirá por
sencilla que sea la acción que se forje, siempre que haya un poco de
arte en la composición. No estribe el interés en _lo que pasará_,
sino en _lo que pasa_. El ideal sería que el público, durante la
representación de (nuestras) obras, llegara a olvidarse de que se
hallaba, en el teatro." (_El patio_, p. 71.) Intrigue is to be
replaced, then, by marvelous rendering of atmosphere and states of
character, just as Velázquez rendered planes in _Las meninas_. The
personages unfold themselves before us in their natural environment, and
we merely observe, like the limping devil, what takes place within their
homes.
Perhaps the exclusion of the dramatic has been carried too far,--for the
stage has its requirements, and punishes with oblivion those who choose
to ignore them. It is true too that artistic selection has not always
been duly exercised, and superfluous characters sometimes cumber the
stage. Exaggeration may be necessary behind the footlights, as Molière
believed, and when deprived of it we feel the lack of something, as a
Mexican would miss his chile, or a Hindu his curry. Nevertheless, the
change from sensationalism is as restful as a congenial fireside to one
who has been fighting with strangers for his daily bread. Lack of action
is not in harmony with the great dramatic tradition of Spain, and for
that reason the reaction against it may be strong. The fact remains that
the school of realism in its true sense, of naturalness, light and color
is producing some masterly results at this moment.