Western American Drama to 1960


DURING THE FORMATIVE STAGE of American drama, which lasted until around 1890, most American plays consisted of slapstick and sentimentalism, and plays about the frontier and the West were not exceptions. Beginning in the 1890s, there was a rise of realism in American drama, a trend which culminated in the production in 1906 of William Vaughn Moody's The Great Divide, said to mark the beginning of modern American drama and notable for its use of a western setting and western characters. Most subsequent plays about the West never received the kind of notice given to works by eastern and southern dramatists such as Eugene O'Neill, Arthur Miller, and Tennessee Williams. But western playwrights Sidney Howard, Lynn Riggs, William Saroyan, John Steinbeck, and William Inge did write plays that were acclaimed by audiences and reviewers and that constitute a significant part of the literary heritage of the American West.

Until recently even most specialists in western American literature have known little about any western dramas, probably because few critical studies and literary histories–with the exception of Felix Sper's From Native Roots (1948) and Ima Honaker Herron's The Small Town in American Drama (1969)–even mention more than one or two western plays. Western American drama is still largely an undiscovered territory waiting to be explored and mapped.

Any survey of western drama should begin with at least some mention of Indian myth-dramas and Spanish folk plays, not only because of their influence on the first Anglo playwrights, but also because they have provided such an important stimulus for contemporary western writers.

In Masked Gods: Navaho and Pueblo Ceremonialism(1950), Frank Waters has explained that Navaho myth-dramas serve at least three important functions: "to perpetuate the myths and legends of the tribe" (p. 243); to "teach in the medium of their own parables the universal truths of life" (p. 249); and "to cure illnesses of the body and mind" (p. 258). The mythdramas of many other western American tribes have similar functions; and their thaumaturgic and therapeutic aspects seem to have fascinated contemporary western playwrights such as Sam Shepard, who has shown in plays such as Operation Sidewinder that he recognizes the magical and healing elements in Indian ritual.

Another early form of western drama, the Spanish folk play, has also been a strong influence on contemporary dramatists. Folk plays appeared in the Southwest soon after the founding of Santa Fe and were usually dramatizations of some biblical story, although Los Comanches is a historical drama based on a battle with the Indians. Roberto J. Garza says that Chicano theatre remained alive in the Southwest from the days of the folk dramas and of Teatro Carpa (a traveling vaudevillian theatre for the masses) to the rise in this century of Mexican folk-theatre groups that provided a cultural center for Chicanos but that failed to "convey that espiritu of La Raza which was about to manifest itself " (Contemporary Chicano Theatre, pp. 1–6). Whatever the failings of the Spanish folk plays and the Mexican folk-theatre groups, they were probably the main inspiration for Teatro Campesino, which Luis Valdez founded in the 1960s, and for plays by Valdez, such as Zoot Suit (1978), plays which have been part of el renacimiento, the rebirth of Chicano literature.

Another early western cultural group, the Mormons, produced no firstrate dramas, in spite of the support which the Latter-day Saints Church, almost from its beginning, had given to the theatre. Mormons had staged plays even before their westward migration, and in 1862 they built the Salt Lake Theatre, which was for years one of the finest theatres in the country. "It was a little surprising," John S. Lindsay wrote in his history The Mormons and the Theatre (1905), "that with the love of the drama so universal in Utah so few contributions to dramatic literature were offered by local authors for representation on the stage" (p. 155). In this century, the Mutual Improvement Association's annual publication of a book of plays often contained original Mormon dramas, but according to Lael J. Woodbury, "No pro-Mormon drama has yet achieved commercial success. . . ." 1 Until the 1970s, most Mormon dramatists wanted to write plays that would defend and glorify their religion; and as a result, their plays are often little more than sermons in dramatic form.

Anti-Mormon dramas enjoyed great commercial success in the 1800s, but they are no better artistically than the pro-Mormon plays. William Lysander Adams's Treason, Stratagems, and Spoils (1852), Thomas Dunn English's The Mormons (1858), and Club's Deseret Deserted (1858) portray the Mormons as lying, stealing, murdering hypocrites. Joaquin Miller made a small fortune with his anti-Mormon play The Danites in the Sierras (1877), although he wrote in a later preface to the work: "I have always been sorry I printed it, as it is unfair to the Mormons and the Chinese." Aside from their historical value as social documents of religious bigotry, the anti-Mormon plays are chiefly interesting in their frequent use of the theme of mistaken or lost identity; however, what O. W. Frost says about Miller's Forty-Nine (1881) applies to all the anti-Mormon dramas: "It is little more than a curious exhibit of popular nineteenth-century American comedy, a rollicking and tearful entertainment without substance and without serious purpose" (Joaquin Miller, p. 106).

Although not polemical like the pro-and anti-Mormon plays, other western American dramas of the formative period (from the 1850s to 1890) were also artistic failures, and no other early western playwright achieved financial success as Miller had done. But in spite of such artistic and financial failure, some of the frontier dramas have a few redeeming features. Alonzo Delano's A Live Woman in the Mines (1857), for example, deserves to be better known for its lively frontier dialogue: "Whoora! for a live woman in the mines. What'll the boys say? they'll peel out o' their skins for joy. . . . Injins and grizzlies clar the track, or a young airthquake will swaller you." If copies of A Live Woman had not become almost as rare as the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, perhaps Delano's use of frontier dialogue might have had some influence on later western playwrights. In western drama, only the robust frontier boasts in Roadside (1930) by Lynn Riggs equal the colorful lingo in A Live Woman, but the probability that Riggs had read Delano's play is small.

A Live Woman in the Mines could be performed in the rough-and-ready atmosphere of California's Gold Rush camps, but more sedate eastern audiences might not have paid to listen to an evening of frontier hyperbole. What easterners did pay to see were less linguistically exuberant plays such as Frank Hitchcock's Davy Crockett (1872), which portrays a frontiersman who is more of a genteel Natty Bumppo than a boasting ringtail roarer. And Augustin Daly's Horizon (1871) is largely a bowdlerized caricature of the actual West–complete with eastern dudes, drunken Indians, bumbling soldiers, and a stage Chinaman. The main redeeming feature of Horizon is Daly's satire, which sometimes resembles Mark Twain's; but unfortunately, Daly's debt to Bret Harte is too obvious to escape notice.

Harte himself wrote quite a few plays, but only three were staged and none was successful. Two Men of Sandy Bar (1876) combines elements from several of Harte's stories, but its moralism, bad dialogue, and lack of dramatic tension make it a flop. "Ah Sin!" (1877), the result of Harte's unhappy collaboration with Mark Twain, was also an artistic and financial failure. Mark Twain's curtain speech contains what is probably the best critical comment on the joint effort: "I never saw a play that was so much improved by being cut down; and I believe it would have been one of the very best plays in the world if the manager's strength had held out so that he could cut out the whole of it." Twain apparently recognized that he and Harte had talents more suited to prose narrative than to drama; and in Harte's case, other writers were more successful in dramatizing his stories than was Harte himself. A good example of such adaptation is Bartley Campbell's My Partner ( 1879), which borrows a theme from Harte. Campbell's characters boast that California is as good as heaven, but the evil actions of many of them seem better suited to hell.

Like most nineteenth-century American dramas, Harte's plays and the dramatic adaptations that others wrote from his stories were melodramas, a form especially well suited to be a part of theatrical productions that were like Wild West shows. William F. "Buffalo Bill" Cody had, in fact, begun his career in 1871 "as an actor under the direction of Ned Buntline," the pen name of E. Z. C. Judson, the most prolific of the dime novelists. 2 A year later, Cody started his own company, commissioning frontier melodramas; and through a kind of theatrical mitosis, one of Cody's actors, John Wallace "Captain Jack" Crawford, began his own company and wrote three frontier melodramas. According to Garff B. Wilson, nineteenth-century frontier melodramas enjoyed great popularity and are the prototypes of twentieth-century movie and T.V. Westerns. "During all this time," Wilson says, "the genre has followed the same basic formula of melodrama":

The hero is the rough but valiant and resourceful frontiersman; the heroine is a pure, modest maiden with hidden strength in her character; the villain is either an ugly gunslinger or a suave, polished hypocrite; the conflict that develops runs a predictable course, but after the perils, fights, narrow escapes, and misunderstandings have occurred, the villain and his bad guys are defeated; the hero and the good guys are victorious. 3

By the beginning of the 1890s, at least two playwrights began to add more realistic details to plots that were still basically western melodramas. By then, too, western stereotypes were quite familiar to American audiences; the frontier melodramas were dramatic equivalents of dime novels and novels of local color. Such plays–Charles Townsend's The Golden Gulch (1893) is a good example–usually had, in addition to the formula plot outlined by Wilson, a cast that included a Chinaman, a taciturn Indian, a smooth villain, an eastern dude, a coarse but warmhearted local girl, and a hero. Such stereotypes were effectively used in a satirical comedy by Charles H. Hoyt, A Texas Steer (1890), in which a group of Texans try to get what they can from the government in Washington, D.C. In their naivete the Texans are like other Americans, but their frontier barbarism is depicted as a western trait. But Hoyt's use of the stereotypes was an exception; many of the western plays of his fellow dramatists were as predictable as B-grade Western movies and were about as aesthetically satisfying, too.

Augustus Thomas and David Belasco, the two 1890s dramatists who tried to do more than produce Westerns with predictable plots, never managed to write plays without some trace of Bret Harte-like sentimentality. Both Thomas and Belasco, however, did manage to make their dramas more realistic than the typical play of that period. Thomas traveled to many western states, gathering facts about local settings, characters, and events, facts which he would later work into his dramas. Unfortunately, he could never resist the temptation to make at least part of a play melodramatic or overly romantic. In Mizzoura (1893), for example, is filled with the details of an actual train robbery, but the characters seem straight from a story by Bret Harte. Thomas could, however, create realistic characters. The rancher and his wife in Arizona (1899) are based upon actual people, and they give the play a strong air of reality; the rest of the play, though, is conventional melodrama. Belasco, too, used actual incidents as the basis for his dramas, but he seemed fascinated by events that, however real, seem quite improbable, and his characters seem more like outcasts from Poker Flat than like typical westerners. In addition, Belasco's The Girl I Left Behind Me (1893) resembles Thomas's Arizona in tacitly condoning the racism, sexism, and militarism of the age, and Belasco distorted the Spanish land grant conflict in The Rose of the Rancho (1906). But Belasco will long be remembered for The Girl of the Golden West (1905), which, in spite of its improbabilities, gives a sense of Gold Rush life that almost approaches the exuberance and playfulness of Mark Twain's Roughing It and which was the basis of Giacomo Puccini's La Fanciulla del West (1910), "the first grand opera to be written on an American theme." 4

Like Belasco and Thomas, William Vaughn Moody worked hard to make his plays more realistic, using an actual incident as the basis for The Great Divide (1906), the drama that is said to have revolutionized American theatre. Moody had heard about a woman who, in order to save herself from being raped by three westerners, had told one of the men that she would be his if he would save her from the others, which he did by buying her. In The Great Divide, the woman is Ruth Jordan, daughter of an old New England family, and the rough westerner who buys her is Stephen Ghent. Ruth stays with Ghent, who has fallen in love with her and treats her well, and she has their child; but her Puritan conscience won't permit her to remain in a relationship which had such an unholy beginning, so while Ghent strikes a bonanza, she works like a peon, making baskets that she sells to get enough money to buy herself back. She eventually does so and then returns to her New England home. Ghent follows her, losing his own fortune to redeem her family's. When he confronts her, saying that since they love each other, he wants her to return to him and to ignore what first brought them together, she forces him to see that she had to leave because they had come together not out of love but from the force of violent domination. Having forced that concession from him, Ruth then consents to go back with him.

As the summary shows, The Great Divide has some of the melodramatic elements common to other western dramas of the period. Yet as Martin Halpern has explained, Moody used conventionalities to express profound and moving ideas. Ruth and Ghent both undergo a painful transformation. Though the adventure-craving part of Ruth initially finds Ghent attractive, she rejects him at the insistence of the Puritan side of her personality, which recognizes that evil cannot be ignored. After arguing for the individual freedom offered by the frontier, Ghent ultimately recognizes that Ruth is right in insisting that they cannot ignore the evil which first brought them together. Halpern compares their moral and emotional struggle to that of Hester Prynne and Arthur Dimmesdale in Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter.

The Great Divide is also strikingly similar to Owen Wister's The Virginian (1902), primarily because the romance of Molly Stark and the Virginian proceeds in many respects like that of Ruth and Ghent. Both the Virginian and Ghent woo New Englanders, and both men are candid, sometimes blunt, westerners. In both the novel and the play, when the cowboys win their ladies the West seems to have triumphed over the East, but a closer look shows that the American system of values, including male dominance, is the final victor. What Halpern says of Moody is true of Wister as well: "Moody is concerned not with widening the `Great Divide' between East and West but with closing it. . . ." 5

Moody achieved for American drama a little bit of what Mark Twain had done for the American novel when he wrote Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. As Maurice F. Brown puts it, "The Great Divide brought realism and symbolism in an effective combination into the American theatre, offering a native model on which dramatists might build." 6 For almost another two decades, however, no western playwrights succeeded in following Moody's model, although two western writers who were well known for their work in other genres made the attempt. Mary Austin's The Arrow-Maker (1911) and Jack London's The Acorn-Planter (1916) are ostensibly plays about Indians, but Austin's feminism and London's socialism are all too didactically apparent in the lines of their pre-Columbian characters. London was even more heavy-handed when he wrote three other plays set in his own time. Like Bret Harte and Mark Twain, Austin and London wrote essays, stories, and novels that were far better than their plays.

After World War I, aspiring playwrights not only had The Great Divide and European plays by Ibsen, Chekhov, Shaw, and Strindberg as models, but they could also see that one of their contemporaries, Eugene O'Neill, was creating a modern American drama. Universities had started to offer courses in playwriting, and college theatres and new professional theatre groups were staging original dramas by young American playwrights. Another Californian, Sidney Howard, was a graduate of Professor George Pierce Baker's playwriting course at Harvard. When Howard wrote a play about an unconventional love affair, the Theatre Guild of New York-"dedicated to the production of fine plays which commercial managers were afraid to present" 7 –stagedThey Knew What They Wanted (1924), for which Howard was awarded a Pulitzer Prize. Like Ruth and Ghent in The Great Divide, the leading characters in Howard's play must act unconventionally in order to do what is best for all. They Knew What They Wanted is not, however, "a play about ideas, but," as Joseph Wood Krutch wrote, "a play about men and women. . . ." 8

The men are Tony Patucci, a Napa Valley grape grower, and his hired man Joe; and the woman is Amy, Tony's mail-order bride. When Amy arrives at Tony's ranch to be married to him, she at first thinks that Joe is Tony, since Tony had sent her Joe's photograph and said it was a picture of himself and since Tony had broken his leg shortly before her arrival and was therefore not present for it. In spite of that initial confusion, the wedding takes place; and afterwards, when Tony falls asleep, Amy and Joe succumb to a moment of strong sexual attraction. Three months later, when Amy and Joe learn that she is pregnant as a result of their one night together, the play appears to be headed in the direction of melodrama, for Amy and Joe decide to leave together, even though they are not in love and Joe does not want to be married. And when Amy breaks down and tells Tony everything, he first goes berserk, swearing all kinds of vengeance. But at this point Howard gives the play some realistic twists, and the earlier melodramatic elements become only a counterpoint for the play's basically realistic thrust. Tony, who is much older than Amy and Joe, cools down and begins to think about the situation. Then, by pointing out that he and Amy love each other, that he wants a child, and that Joe wants to roam with the Wobblies, Tony persuades Amy to stay and Joe to go.

Barrett H. Clark called They Knew What They Wanted "a comedy of second thoughts; in the first act Amy starts to do the conventional thing because her pride is wounded, but on second thought she knows she wants comfort and affection more than she does revenge; in the third act Tony starts to do the same thing, because somewhere within him is a conviction that a good husband must kill his wife's lover, but on second thought he takes a wiser course." 9 Howard's characters arrive at their second thoughts not by discussing ideas (as in The Great Divide) but by a process of individual reconsideration that awakens them to their actual feelings, thereby helping them to change their minds. They Knew What They Wanted has been overshadowed by its musical adaptation, The Most Happy Fella (1956), which diminished the effect of realism by overplaying the sentimentality in the story. For its sensitive portrayal of typical westerners without gunplay and without other stage heroics, Howard's original drama is a landmark in western American literature. Howard spent some time in Hollywood, where he wrote screenplays for Sinclair Lewis's Arrowsmith and Dodsworth. In the 1920s, Hollywood entered its Golden Age and became the subject of a number of plays, most of them satirical comedies. What the playwrights satirized is the Hollywood myth of the West as a land where the good cowboy always wins. They showed that only fools believe a movie's version of the West or of any other place; that Hollywood itself has become a new gold camp, luring naive fame-and-fortune hunters by the thousands. The best known satirizations of Hollywood are George Kaufman and Marc Connelly's Merton of the Movies (1922; based on the novel by Harry Leon Wilson) and Moss Hart and George Kaufman's Once in a Lifetime (1930). Although satires such as these hilariously expose the phoniness of the movieland West, they give no sense of the real world on the other side of the false-front sets.

For the people in that real world, life was not very hilarious. The Dust Bowl and the Great Depression made the West of the late 1920s and the 1930s a place of hardship and anxiety. Thanks to the support of many group theatre organizations, the Federal Theatre projects, and university theatre programs–not only at Harvard and Yale, but also at schools such as the University of North Dakota and the University of Washington–serious young playwrights received encouragement to write plays about the hard times. Also during those two decades, the upsurge of interest in regional literature helped to provide audiences for new regional dramas.

A good example of such regional playwrights is E. P. Conkle, whose Crick Bottom Plays 1928) are humorous sketches of folksy Nebraskans.( When Conkle tried to write serious plays about events and characters from western history and folklore, he failed to bring them to life. But he was successful when he wrote 200 Were Chosen (1937), a drama about the resettlement in Alaska of destitute midwestern farmers. The play is strikingly similar to parts of The Grapes of Wrath, and much of Conkle's writing is as effective as Steinbeck's. Another Nebraska playwright, Virgil Geddes, saw in the lives of midwestern farm families the same problems that had faced the ancient Greeks, and he wrote several dramas about incestuous relationships between fathers and daughters. W. David Sievers says that in The Earth Between (1930) and Native Ground (1932), "Geddes . . . attempted to capture the Greek feeling for the majesty of a struggle with the hereditary curse of evil within a family," but he did not quite achieve "O'Neill's mastery of his material." 10

O'Neill's plays are rivalled, however, by the works of the greatest of the western dramatists: Lynn Riggs. His Green Grow the Lilacs (1931) has been so popular in the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical version that millions of people outside the region think the West is Oklahoma! (1943) plus some Indians. Delightfully entertaining though it is, the musical has a saccharine optimism which probably deters most readers from bothering to look at the original drama or at any of the rest of the more than two dozen plays by Riggs. What readers would find in Green Grow the Lilacs is a dark side more ominous than the treatment of evil in Oklahoma! The shivaree in Riggs's play is a powerful and frightening display of mob lewdness and callousness, and the mob consists of those who are usually considerate neighbors. Also in Green Grow the Lilacs, Jeeter (Jud Fry) has been warped by the demeaning force of his work, whereas Curly's easygoing warm manner is the result of the freedom he's enjoyed as a cowboy. In Oklahoma! Curly escapes a jail sentence, an ending which, as Thomas A. Erhard has suggested, "is a little more clear-cut in its lightness than the almost bittersweet Lilacs . . ." (Lynn Riggs, p. 21).

Riggs had written a number of plays before Green Grow the Lilacs, and one of the first–Big Lake (1927), about the killing of two innocent teen-agers–had been praised by Burns Mantle and Barrett H. Clark; and after its production, Sidney Howard had encouraged Riggs to continue writing. Like Howard, Riggs moved to Hollywood for awhile to make a living by writing screenplays, and he also continued to write dramas. Yet in spite of his early reputation as one of America's most promising playwrights, Riggs never wrote a Broadway hit and he never received the kind of acclaim granted to O'Neill. Nevertheless, almost all of Riggs's plays are good, and a number of them are first-rate.

Roadside: Or Borned in Texas (1930) presents a ringtail roarer who woos and wins the ex-wife of a down-to-earth farmer. While he woos, the swaggering frontier hero demolishes a courthouse and jail and then brags his way out of punishment. Like the tall tales of the mountain men, the boasts in Roadside create a special and comic world of hyperbole, as one can see in the following passage:

Wild and reckless,
Borned in Texas
Suckled by a bear,
Steel backbone,
Tail screwed on,
Twelve feet long,
Dare any son-of-a-bitch to step on it!

Erhard is clearly right when he says that Riggs "captured the poetic flavor of frontier speech almost as well as John Millington Synge captured that of Irish dialects" (p. 2). At first the Irish refused to recognize Synge's achievement, feeling that his plays were none too flattering; perhaps a similar defensive reaction by Americans is part of the reason why Riggs has not yet been recognized as the great writer he is. Riggs was a master of tragedy as well as comedy. A Lantern to See By (1928) is about a farmer who tyrannizes his family. Here a western playwright tried to emulate the Greeks and succeeded. John Harmon's whole life is his sons, but his immense pride in them is overshadowed by his determination to domineer. His domination of his eldest son, Jodie, so stunts the boy's spirit that when he thinks he can find no other escape, he is driven to kill his father. Another cause of the patricide is John Harmon's forcing himself upon the girl Jodie loves. The sexual rivalry that pits father against son is apparent underneath their squabbles over work and money. Yet Riggs shows us that even that sexual conflict is caused by a deeper division, for John Harmon is the pioneer, the proud self-made man who wants to dominate everything–Nature, his children, women–whereas Jodie is of the second generation on the land and seeks sympathy and understanding.

The sexual rivalry between a farmer and his son and the boasts of a frontier braggart were not subjects that excited commercial theatre owners on Broadway, so Riggs escaped obscurity only because he had written the play from which Oklahoma! was created. When one considers that a widely used textbook such as The Norton Anthology of American Literature (1979) contains not a single reference to any American dramatist–not even O'Neill–then it may be safe to assume that almost all literary critics and historians have never read a line written by Riggs. Amazingly productive in the face of such neglect, Riggs wrote his last (and far from his best) play–a musical entitled Toward the Western Sky (1951)–because he had received a commission for a historical pageant-drama.

Pageant-dramas and other historical plays comprise a large category of western drama, but unlike western novelists, playwrights have not succeeded in bringing the Old West back to life, perhaps because, as Susanne Langer has pointed out, the novel is virtual memory pointing toward the present, whereas the drama is a virtual present pointing toward the future; and until recently the West was so young and changing so rapidly that no future could be envisioned with certainty. 11 One of the best of the historical plays is Maxwell Anderson's Night Over Taos (1928), which recounts the story of the Taos rebellion of 1847, but which "belongs among his lesser credits." 12 More effective at showing how the past is linked to the present, Talbot Jennings's No More Frontier (1931) dramatizes the changes in a pioneer Idaho family over several generations. But no western historical play has yet matched the artistry of A. B. Guthrie's The Big Sky or Wallace Stegner's Angle of Repose.

Ostensibly about a robbery in a western desert, Robert E. Sherwood's The Petrified Forest (1935) shows allegorically that the American sense of history had become petrified. Some twentieth-century robbers descend on a desert filling station, where they hole up with hostages until a posse shoots it out with the gang. But before the gang's leader leaves, he fulfills his promise to shoot a destitute young poet who had asked to be killed so that the granddaughter of the filling station owner could receive the benefits of a $5,000 life insurance policy. The young poet mentions T. S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men," an allusion which reinforces the impression that Sherwood chose the southwestern desert for his setting because he saw it as a good symbol of the wasteland and because the dreams of the old frontier are petrified there like the forest in the desert. In contrast to Sidney Howard and Lynn Riggs, neither Sherwood nor his characters look upon the West as home; for them it is just a way station until they can get somewhere else.

The twentieth-century urban West is home for most of the characters in William Saroyan's My Heart's in the Highlands (1939) and The Time of Your Life (1939), but their behavior and beliefs are little changed from what one finds in the pages of Bret Harte. My Heart's in the Highlands is a sentimental drama about a struggling poet and his nine-year-old son who are inspired by the bungling and philosophy of an old stranger. A Pulitzer Prize was awarded for The Time of Your Life, but Saroyan refused it. The play's setting is a San Francisco waterfront bar in and out of which characters drift while the bartender watches some of the regulars interact with the other customers. An eccentric rich man befriends a two-dollar whore and encourages her and his slow friend to fall in love. When a police detective picks on the whore, we expect the rich man or her new lover to retaliate, but instead the cop is killed by Kit Carson, a talkative old Indian fighter. The whore with a heart of gold is straight from Bret Harte; and once one notices that resemblance, it becomes clear that many of the other characters also have Hartesian prototypes. The regulars in the bar share a feeling of community and camaraderie that is similar to the spirit evinced by some of the groups and towns in Harte's stories.

Although better known than Riggs, Saroyan was not nearly so good a playwright as his Oklahoma contemporary, and the critical consensus holds that Saroyan's later dramas did not match the freshness and spontaneity of his two 1939 plays. For example, Love's Old Sweet Song (1940), Saroyan's spoof of John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath, suffers from a plot that was "badly neglected." 13

Ironically, Steinbeck wrote a play, Of Mice and Men (1937), that is much better than any of Saroyan's dramas. Steinbeck wrote Of Mice and Men, The Moon Is Down (1942), and Burning Bright (1950) as play-novelettes, "novel[s] which can be played," as he defined them. The only one of these works that has a western setting, Of Mice and Men is a major work of western American literature. Although George and Lennie's dream of owning their own ranch is crushed, Steinbeck shows us how powerful and sustaining that dream can be. As Malcolm Goldstein has noted, "Steinbeck is reluctant to point a moral by directly linking the defeat of the pair to the national economic situation; rather than do so, he is content to create a situation in which the dual protagonists are victims of their own skewed psychological structures. Yet darting through their story are insights into the worker's life. . . ." 14

In contrast to Steinbeck and Riggs, western dramatists of the 1940s showed scenes of real life only to suggest that it can be escaped through fantasy. Robert Finch's Plays of the American West (1947) are short dramas in most of which a happy resolution is achieved when the protagonist begins to live in an imaginary world that is an escape from the harsh reality of the actual and inhospitable West. Mary Chase's Harvey (1944), the best and most widely known of her works, is like Finch's plays in that it suggests that fantasy is often preferable to reality. Although Chase is a longtime resident of Denver and although Harvey is set in a city in the Far West, there is little that marks her play as western.

A theatrical development of the 1940s that reached full bloom in the next decade was the production of hit musicals on western themes. Rodgers and Hammerstein's Oklahoma! (1943) is the best known of these, but many of the western musicals that followed were almost as popular: Irving Berlin's Annie Get Your Gun (1946); Lerner and Loewe's Paint Your Wagon (1952); the film musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954); Harold Rome's Destry Rides Again (1959); Rodgers and Hammerstein's Flower Drum Song (1959); and Meredith Willson's The Unsinkable Molly Brown (1960). As drama, the musicals differ from earlier melodramas only in the addition of songs, a few more realistic details, and an unbounded optimism that is never disappointed by an unresolved conflict. In the world of the western musicals, the West becomes a kind of vast Disneyland and life there is a game with a predictable happy ending.

Without any of the saccharine optimism of the musicals, the plays of William Inge are studies in midwestern despair and psychological turmoil. Yet four of Inge's plays were Broadway hits during the 1950s, bringing him fame and fortune: Come Back, Little Sheba (1950), about an alcoholic chiropractor who had wanted to be a doctor, and his childless wife whose life is empty; Picnic (1953; Pulitzer Prize), about a young drifter, Hal, whose love affair with a small-town girl leads to his expulsion from the town; Bus Stop (1955), about some passengers whose forced stay in a small-town cafe leads to a successful romance for a Montana cowboy and a nightclub singer but only to more loneliness for others; and The Dark at the Top of the Stairs (1957), which is set in a small Oklahoma town of the 1920s and which shows the family struggles of a cowboy turned harness salesman.

Although popular and often praised, Inge's plays have also been strongly criticized. Gerald Weales, for example, finds the talk in an Inge play dull and whining: "The naturalistic tradition seems to have spawned a host of dull people who are bromidic and repetitive, inarticulate except at those moments of high whine when they grind out their tales of woe; Inge's plays have their quota of such characters." 15 Weales seems to assume that what we know about a character is only what that character explicitly tells us, but some recent criticism contends that the dialogue in an Inge play implicitly reveals truths about the characters deeper than any in their explicit statements.

Critics such as R. Baird Shuman have pointed out that many of Inge's characters must humble themselves and must accept a more realistic view of life before they can find any sort of happiness. Inge shows that it is because of social pressures and psychological forces that they come to realize what they must do. In some of his plays, the pressures take the form of ancient social patterns. According to Philip M. Armato, "Picnic can be viewed as an incisive study of modern scapegoat ritual. . . . Inge creates in Hal a victim for our times. Hal is polluted by the sins of the townspeople which are laid upon his head through the psychological device of projection. . . . Instead of punishing themselves for their own transgressions, the townspeople punish Hal" 16

Inge's plays show not only the universal problems of small-town life but also the special pressures that plague the West because the frontier is gone. In The Dark at the Top of the Stairs, Rubin expresses well the theme of most of Inge's plays: "Sometimes I wonder if it's not a lot easier to pioneer a country than it is to settle down in it." Most of Inge's characters cannot settle down, because they are lonely, insecure, and bored. Nothing in their empty lives substitutes for the sense of purpose and the challenges that filled the lives of the pioneers. Like the characters in many post–World War II western novels, Inge's characters struggle on a frontier within themselves. Before they can find happiness they must come to see that, as Hegel put it, "Freedom is the recognition of necessity."

Inge achieved what Lynn Riggs had never been lucky enough to enjoy: success on Broadway. But western American dramatists had to wait until the 1970s before they could receive national acclaim regardless of whether Broadway producers cared for their work. By the end of the 1950s, a number of outstanding western dramas had been written, but no one had published a volume of Great Plays of the American West, probably because the interest in regional culture that had peaked in the 1930s had waned by then and because in the West the short story and the novel had such strong, coherent traditions that few critics thought much of other genres. Perhaps, too, the inferior works of the formative period–the pro-and anti-Mormon dramas and the melodramas–discouraged readers from pursuing any further a study of western drama. Whatever the reasons for their neglect, the western plays of William Vaughn Moody, Sidney Howard, Lynn Riggs, William Saroyan, John Steinbeck, and William Inge deserve our attention now. A tradition of western drama does exist; and its sustained study could be a positive cultural force, not only because the plays can entertain us, but also because they can give us a clearer view of ourselves.

JAMES H. MAGUIRE, Boise State University

Notes

1. Lael J. Woodbury, "Mormonism and the Commercial Theatre," Brigham Young University Studies 12 (1972): 238–39.

2. Paul T. Nolan, John Wallace Crawford, Twayne's United States Authors Series, No. 378 (Boston: Twayne, 1981), p. 34.

3. Garff B. Wilson, Three Hundred Years of American Drama, 2nd ed. (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1982), p. 136.

4. Arthur Hobson Quinn, A History of the American Drama: From the Civil War to the Present (New York: Crofts, 1936), p. 192.

5. Martin Halpern, William Vaughn Moody, Twayne's United States Authors Series, No. 64 (New York: Twayne, 1964), p. 130.

6. Maurice F. Brown, Estranging Dawn: The Life and Works of William Vaughn Moody (Carbondale and Edwardsville: Southern Illinois University Press, 1973), p. 214.

7. Wilson, p. 242.

8. Joseph Wood Krutch, The American Drama Since 1918: An lnformal History (New York: Braziller, 1957), p. 53.

9. Barrett H. Clark, An Hour of American Drama (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1930), p. 81.

10. W. David Sievers, Freud on Broadway: A History of Psychoanalysis and the American Drama (New York: Cooper Square, 1970), p. 95.

11. Susanne K. Langer, Feeling and Form: A Theory of Art (New York: Scribner's, 1953), pp. 306–07.

12. Alfred S. Shivers, Maxwell Anderson, Twayne's United States Authors Series, No. 279 (New York: Twayne, 1976), p. 30.

13. Howard R. Floan, William Saroyan, Twayne's United States Authors Series, No. 100 (New York: Twayne, 1966), pp. 108–09.

14. Malcolm Goldstein, The Political Stage: American Drama and Theater of the Great Depression (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), p. 372.

15. Gerald Weales, American Drama Since World War II (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1962), p. 44.

16. Philip M. Armato, "The Bum as Scapegoat in William Inge's Picnic," Western American Literature 10 (1976): 275.

Selected Bibliography

Primary Sources

Conkle, Ellsworth Prouty. 200 Were Chosen. New York: French, 1937.

Delano, Alonzo. A Live Woman in the Mines: Or, Pike County Ahead! New York: French, 1857.

Howard, Sidney. They Knew What They Wanted. New York: French, 1925.

Inge, William. Four Plays. (Includes Come Back, Little Sheba; Picnic; Bus Stop; and The Dark at the Top of the Stairs.) New York: Random House, 1958.

Moody, William Vaughn. The Great Divide. New York: Macmillan, 1909.

Riggs, Lynn. Big Lake. New York: French, 1927.

. Green Grow the Lilacs. New York: French, 1931.

. Roadside: Or, Borned in Texas. New York: French, 1930.

. Two Oklahoma Plays. (Includes A Lantern to See By and Sump'n Like Wings.) New York: French, 1928.

Saroyan, William. Three Plays: My Heart's in the Highlands; The Time of Your Life; Love's Old Sweet Song. New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1939.

Sherwood, Robert E. The Petrified Forest. New York: Scribner's, 1935.

Steinbeck, John. Of Mice and Men. New York: Covici, Friede, 1937.

Secondary Sources

Brown, Maurice F. Estranging Dawn: The Life and Works of William Vaughn Moody. Carbondale and Edwardsville: Southern Illinois University Press, 1973. Detailed biography related to the works.

Clark, Barrett H. An Hour of American Drama. Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1930. Has brief sections on Sidney Howard, E. P. Conkle, Virgil Geddes, and Lynn Riggs.

Dusenberry, Winifred L. The Theme of Loneliness in Modern American Drama. Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1960. Discusses plays by Sherwood and Inge.

Goldstein, Malcolm. The Political Stage: American Drama and Theater of the Great Depression. New York: Oxford University Press, 1974. Thorough analysis of drama from 1920 to 1940 in terms of government activity and politics.

Herron, Ima Honaker. The Small Town in American Drama. Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 1969. Biographical details about western dramatists, plot summaries, and evaluations of plays, from Gold Rush days to the 1960s. Indispensable for a study of western drama.

Hughes, Glenn. A History of the American Theatre, 1700–1950. London: French, 1951. Theatrical history by a western playwright who was also a teacher of playwrights.

Krutch, Joseph Wood. The American Drama Since 1918: An Informal History. New York: Braziller, 1957. Discusses, among others, Howard, Sherwood, Saroyan, and Steinbeck.

Quinn, Arthur Hobson. A History of the American Drama: From the Beginning to the Civil War. 2nd ed. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1943.

. A History of the American Drama: From the Civil War to the Present. New York: Crofts, 1936. Quinn is a gold mine of information–he gives play summaries, bibliographies, and biographical information–but his high praise of some nineteenth-century dramas now seems overdone. Contains information about many dramas that exist only in manuscript form, are out of print, or otherwise difficult to obtain.

Sievers, W. David. Freud on Broadway: A History of Psychoanalysis and the American Drama. New York: Cooper Square, 1970. Examines the influence of theories of psychology on twentieth-century drama, including comments on plays by Howard, Anderson, Sherwood, Totheroh, Riggs, Inge, Chase, and Foote.

Sper, Felix. From Native Roots: A Panorama of Our Regional Drama. Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton, 1948. A survey by western subregions, providing plot summaries, bibliographies, and information about regional theatre programs.

Weales, Gerald. American Drama Since World War II. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1962. Sometimes harsh, but thought-provoking.

Wilson, Garff B. Three Hundred Years of American Drama and Theatre. 2nd ed. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1982. An adequate introduction for beginning students.

Standard Sources

The Twayne's United States Authors Series includes works on the following authors of western plays: O. W. Frost, Joaquin Miller, No. 119 (1967); Paul T. Nolan, John Wallace Crawford, No. 378 (1981); Martin Halpern, William Vaughn Moody, No. 64 (1964); Earle Labor, Jack London, No. 230 (1974); T. M. Pearce, Mary Austin, No. 92 (1965); Sidney Howard White, Sidney Howard, No. 288 (1977); Warren French, John Steinbeck, No. 2, 2nd ed. (1977); R. Baird Shuman, Robert E. Sherwood, No. 58 (1964); Howard R. Floan, William Saroyan, No. 100 (1966); and R. Baird Shuman, William Inge, No. 95 (1965).

The Steck-Vaughn Southwest Writers Series includes pamphlets on the following authors of western plays: Jo W. Lyday, Mary Austin, No. 16 (1968) and Thomas A. Erhard, Lynn Riggs, No. 29 (1970). See also the following pamphlet in the Boise State University Western Writers Series: Benjamin S. Lawson, Joaquin Miller, No. 43 (1980).

Advanced Study

See James H. Maguire, "A Bibliography of Western American Drama," Western American Literature 14 (August 1979): 149–63, for a listing of published plays about the American West and for a checklist of some secondary materials. By no means exhaustive, this bibliography stands in need of corrections and additions; but it includes some otherwise relatively inaccessible information.

Arthur Hobson Quinn's A History of the American Drama (1936; 1943) contains information about the many western American dramas that exist only in manuscript form and the many others that have long been out of print and are difficult to obtain.

Another source of information about unpublished western plays is the government document entitled Dramatic Compositions Copyrighted in the United States: 1870–1916. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1918.

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