I
In her charming and instructive account of the ingenious puppet-shows
with which her son Maurice used to amuse himself and her guests at
Nohant half a century ago, George Sand records the fact that the erudite
scholar, Magnan, who wrote a learned history of the puppet-show from the
remotest antiquity, did not discriminate sharply between the two
entirely different kinds of little figures, both of which are carelessly
called puppets in English, and marionettes in French. One class
comprises these empty and flexible figures which are animated by the
thumb and two fingers of the performer who exhibits them by holding his
hands above his head, as in the 'Punch and Judy' show. The other
contains the larger dolls, suspended on wires (which are supposed to be
invisible) and manipulated by one or more performers overhead, who give
life to these figures by jerking the various strings as the action of
the play may require. These last are the true marionettes; and for the
first we have, unfortunately, no distinctive name. It is greatly to be
regretted that the two very different types of puppets are not set apart
from each other satisfactorily by the contributor of the article on
marionettes in the latest edition of the 'Encyclopedia Britannica.'
Each of these two sorts of puppets has an interest of its own; and each
of them has its special and peculiar relation to the drama. Both of them
have a long and honorable history, and can be traced back in the scanty
records of a remote antiquity; altho it seems more likely that the true
marionette--the little figure moved by wires from overhead--is the older
of the two, antedating by many centuries the Punch and Judy figure,
which owes its abrupt and awkward movements to the human thumb and
fingers. Both classes are to be found to-day all over the world, not
only in the cities of civilization, but in unsuspected nooks and corners
on all the shores of all the seven seas. In Turkey, for example, under
the name of Karaguez, there is a Punch and Judy of enormous popularity
and of doubtful decency, while in Siam there are marionettes which
perform religious plays of traditional appeal. Apparently the
puppet-show of one type or the other satisfies in its fashion that
dramatic instinct which every people possesses in greater or less
intensity.
Both kinds of puppet-show flourish in France, and have there been lifted
to a more elevated plane of art; and both kinds retain their popularity
in Italy, altho in an humbler form. The French are inveterate artists;
and they are like the Greeks in desiring to do all things decently and
in order. The Italians have, perhaps, a stronger native gift for the
drama and they are ready to enjoy a simpler and more primitive
puppet-play. It is from Italy that we who speak English have derived our
Punch and Judy. Mr. Punch is a direct descendant of that favorite figure
of robust Neapolitan farce, Pulcinella; and so is the French
Polichinelle. And in Italy to-day the true marionettes have an even
broader popularity than the Punch and Judy figures. The Italians who
have lately flocked to America in their thousands, until New York now
contains more of them than Venice, have imported in the original
package the legendary puppet-show setting forth the romantic stories of
the Middle Ages and of the early Renascence. We look upon Mr. Punch as
comic; but the Italians take their pleasure seriously and the
marionettes in their puppet-shows to be seen in New York are truly
heroic, and not infrequently highly tragic.
[Illustration: Roman puppets Greek and Roman puppets Puppet of Java]
In the interesting discussion of 'Medieval Story,' in which Professor W.
W. Lawrence of Columbia University has traced the influence of various
ideals of the Middle Ages upon our modern social organization, he has a
striking description of the marionette performances which the exiles of
Italy have brought with them to America. "Any one who walks thru the
Italian quarter of New York City in the evening may notice over a
doorway an illuminated sign, 'Theater of Marionettes.' If his curiosity
tempts him inside, into the low room crowded with enthusiastic
spectators, he will see, on a rude stage, a group of puppets almost as
large as life, representing knights and ladies, acting out a little
drama in response to the jerking of strings fastened to their arms, and
of iron rods firmly fixed in their heads. The warriors are gorgeously
attired in shining armor and plumed helmets; and the ladies have
wonderful costumes of bright colors, with a great deal of embroidery and
decoration. An Italian in shirt-sleeves in the wings at the side of the
stage speaks their lines for them, with all the elocutionary flourishes
which he can command. Fiercely immobile as to expression, but most
active as to arms and legs, these manikins march about, soliloquize,
make love, and debate in council. But it is their battles which arouse
the greatest enthusiasm among the audience; and, indeed, these are
fought in a way that is a joy to see. Then it is that heroic deeds are
done--tin swords resound upon tin armor, helmets are battered about and
knocked off, dust rises from the field, the valiant dead fall in staring
heaps. At such moments the spectators can hardly restrain themselves
from emotion, yet the story is well known to them--perhaps some one
sitting near by will volunteer to explain it, asserting that he has
known it ever since he was a boy and that he has read it all in a book
which he has at home, called 'Reali di Franci.' It is a version of the
old tale of Charlemagne and his knights, which, after traveling far from
its native home in France, was taken up by the Italian people many
centuries ago, and made so much their own that few heroes have been
closer to their hearts than Roland, or as they call him, Orlando. Even
in their homes in the New World they still celebrate him, so that the
very newsboys in the streets of modern America are keeping alive the
heroic traditions of the age of Charlemagne."
[Illustration: A Sicilian marionette show
From "By Italian Seas," by Ernest C. Peixotto]