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are exhausted , in the other by the exigencies of weakness . Now , it was not pleasant to me to find our burly critics who are for ever belauding the said M . E . Scribe as the first of dramatists for inexhaustible invention , neatness , felicity , falling foul of Victor Hugo as if he were the merest dauber of melodramatic horrors , and belabouring him with the stereotyped charges of unnatural and impossible personages , violent and shocking situations ; and treating the secret passages , masked corridors , flying panels , and mysterious keys , as so many wilful accumulations of a child-like love of
terror , for terror ' s sake . Such were the commonest objections raised when the play was first performed in Paris , and to which Victor Huso replied over and over again from the text book of contemporary history . Another vulgar objection was the simplicity of the language ; the inexpiable fault of making human beings translate their feelings into ordinary human expressions ! It is this realism which to me constitutes the essential power of Victor Hugo ' s dramas . You may object to it as to a form of Art ; but once granted the form , it is impossible to reject the energy , the vitality of the treatment .
But what more mortal offence can you inflict upon the critics our day than boldness , originality , power ? What sin so unpardonable as to sin against mediocrity and commonplace ? To fill the high places of the stage , to be applauded enthusistically by France and England ; and even to be relished by northern barbarians , is , after all , no slender merit . Not a little tact , dexterity , and address are necessary to write numberless vaudevilles , libretti for the Ope ' ra Comique and the Grand Opera , five act serious and sentimental comedies ; and to furnish a repertoire for every
theatre in Europe . M . Scribe has these incontestable titles to fame , and we like him all the better for his sincere mediocrity ; it consoles the envious and the disappointed ; and as to the wit , the secret of our applause is , that we catch it so readily that we enjoy it as if it were ours—it seems so pleasantly familiar . Scribe for ever ! says the age of the Bourgeoisie . lam not ashamed to confess admiration of Victor Hugo ' s dramas : the grasp of conception in his characters , the energy in conducting a complicated action , the strong individualizing faculty , the deep local colour of his historic
aspects , the wide sweep of emotions from the most tender to the most terrible , the flesh-and-blood reality of the personages , with their crimes , sorrows , passions hurrying them on to tremendous issues , are to me almost unique . Think of the subjects of his dramas—Hernani , LucreziaBor
a new dram ; 1 . — troubled , violent , hurried , abrupt as life itself ; epitomizing all the sorrows , the diseases , the problems , the aspirations of our restless civilization . Victor Hugo writes like a man hewing out untrodden paths to fame ; and with the fearleKS ardour of genius , carving for himself a niche of undisputed glory in the temple of his country ' s literature . 1 can well understand the tempest of persecution which as-Hailed the young enthusiast : the jealousies , the intrigues , the prejudices , the animosities which beset his iirst successes . The lawsuits in which
every successive play involved mm , were not so much the result of political censure as of paltry theatrical coteries and literary intrigues . For his dramas were a revolution in art ; and though we may be far from approving the school he created , we must not confound the careless and coarse copyists with the great original of their servile and unintelligent idolatry . Victor Hugo will ever be the favourite dramatist of the French People ; for they detest what in tame and colourless , and take refuge in deep and grand emotions from the petty incidents and cares of common life . But I hasten
to ispeak of Angelo . . Set in a framework of that fearful Venetian despotism , with the Hpy , the secret panel , the poison , the rack , the executioner , for ministers of a vengeance ever watchful and a susp icion never Hated , we find type * of humanity , true to all time and circumstance . Here arc two women , the one , the woman " of the world , " the other a courtesan , rejected by and rejecting societ y . Woman , the victim of social laws and conventional lies , with all her virtues and imperfections , ever iself sacrificing , often deceived , never wholly corrupt . The one asserts the strength and- the purity of an unsullied heart , the other is redeemed through tours and buUerintif . and wo blest * her in her death
for having loved much . The rancour of a woman ' s jealousy is forgotten in the pious memory of filial affection ; the passion is subdued by duty ; the lover makes place for the mother ; hatred is absorbed in devotion . Side by side with these two women are the despot hu sband and the proscribed lover ; and what a picture is presented of the tyranny of social concealments , of the irregular relations to which they give birth , and of world
the eternal struggle of the heart and the And then , in the sombre and shadowy background of the picture , ever stands the instrument of vengeance , the fatal witness : the type of the envious , the discontented , the disinherited of this world ' s riches and pleasures , varying in shape according to time and place , but always , and in all places , gnashing his teeth at joys to which he is a stranger , at prosperities which he can never reach , at passions which he shares unsatisfied ! The doors that
I love opens for the fortunate revenge unlocks for this miserable wretch ; and there he stands , a restless minister of Evil Fortune , and his death is the death of a dog . To this picture a court placed half-way between royalty and the life of the citizen lends a skilfully proportioned dignity ; the domestic element of the story adds the charm of truth . To all these elements of interest , more or less permanent or social , the historical is added ; " and thus the strong local colour of a century , a people , a civilization , deepens and darkens the incidental and individual features of the story . Such is this drama of Angelo , as the poet himself interpreted its purpose , and , as I think , impartial criticism
discovers . Now , in what words can I hope to give you a faint idea of Rachel as La Tisbe , the brilliant courtesan , the rival , with words of fire upon her lips and the poison at her heart , purified by the memory of a mother ' s love , forgiving , selfsacrificing , patient of taunts and injuries , and at last redeemed from all stains by suffering , and triumphant in Love over Death ? Perfection is the only word adequate to describe Rachel ' s
delineation ! From the exquisite petulance of her earlier scenes with the imbecile and doating tyrant , and the thrilling tenderness of her love passages with the man who does not love in return , to the poignant self-abandonment of the last scene ( broken only by fitful gleams of passion ) , where confessing the misery of life without love , and having completed her moral expiation by restoring her rival to her lover ' s arms , she accepts death as a beneficent boon from the . man who has
trifled with her heart , rejected , insulted , murdered her , and expires with a sigh of blessing . If I could express on paper all the subtle lights and shadows of tender grace , the bitter and the biting irony , the profound and penetrating passion , the struggle of hatred and gratitude , the calm , resolved heroism of duty and affection , the unspeakable pathos of the last voluntary humiliation , often expressed by the nicest inflections of voice , the finest subtleties of tone , look , gesture : all belonging only to the hist refinements of the delicatest art inspired by the most abundant genius—even then I should give you but the faintest and most meagre impression of Rachel ' s La Tisbe .
llow do you think , for example , she says to Angelo ?—" Si vous croycz quo vons etcs beau quand vous me rcgardvz commc cela . " Or to Rodolpho : —• " Je reviens settlement , pour te dire tin mot : Je t ' aime ! Maintenant je in ' en vais . " Or to Angelo again , when « he wheedles him out of the key : —
" Ah ' . c cat tnic clvf . Tiens , je ne m ' en serais jumais dout . ee . Alt ' , oui , je vois , e ' est aver , ccci ( pi on ouvre . Ah ! e ' est umt clef . " Or to her rival : — " Ah ! tenez , ne 7 iitz pas . II t ' tait la . ' Kt que vous di . siezvon . it At Me chases tendres , n ' e . it eejws ? Ah ! ne me tmu-hcz pas , Madame ! " To Rodolpho again , in the final scene : — " () Rodolpho , < : \; at done burn vrai : dites le nioi do votrc boucihc , vouh ne' in ' nvc / . done junuuH aiin 6 ?" Rodolpho— " JanuiiH ! " La Tir-lxv— " Eh bien ! e ' est ec mot Id qui me tue malhenretu : ! " Ah ! my clear Sir ( a country cousin , I presume ) , it was , perlinps , fortunate lor you that you were wholly in tin : dark as to what was being said and done , and who was " that dark yottnr / woman they applaud so much" or you never could have enjoyed such perfect peace of mind , or maintai n ed HO calm a countcnuncu the whole evening !
Rachel's sister , Rebecca , was a very charming Catarina—gentle , pathetic , natural . Her freshnes of manner and voice lent life and truth to ever / scene where she appeared . But neither Rebecca nor any other of the family whom the genius o Rachel has introduced to the stage , give a sign of that power and intensity which belongs to genius alone ; for genius is not hereditary nor collaterall y distributed . The sisterly devotion of Rachel is a gem in her crown .
Angelo was , on the whole , more carefully intelligently , and effectively performed than ant produced at the St . James's this season . M . Jouanni deserves a special word for the way ia which he had " composed " the sombre and sinister features of Homodei , the chief of the sbirria , and the part was altogether most characteristicall y rendered .
THE OPERA . I went , as a matter of duty , to " assist at , " as our neighbours so characteristically say , the first performance of Auber ' js last , I dare not say his new opera . It was far from being , I can assure you , a musical " solemnity "—unless " solemnity * ' and " dulness" be synonymous . The criticisms I had met in the Parisian press had not conspired to predispose me very keenly in favour of
Zerline ; ou , la Corbeille d ' Oranges—a title fruitful of mystery and sufficiently vague , and at tho same time homely and familiar to please many tastes . " Blessed is he ( I have somewhere read ) who expects nothing , for he shall not be disappointed . " Accordingly , I have the pleasure to inform you that I was not disappointed . You cannot expect me to relate the poem of the x > pera , but I subjoin a specimen of the opening chorus : —
" To enjoy our maccaroni Is the delightful privilege of us lazzaroni . " I have an indistinct recollection of baskets of oranges , of a galley , and of a good deal of lounging and maccaroni , and local activity going on ' under the direction of Mr . A . Harris "; but as both MM . Scribe and Auber appear to have had but one object in view , viz ., to construct a part for Alboni , or as a French critic called it , a " cavatina in three acts , " I may as well speak of Alboni in whom all the libretto , all the music , and all the acting i » centred . I should be the last to complain of this delicious singer being the entire opera I All that was wanted was a sort of frame for her marvellous
embroideries , her sparkling floods of brilliant notes , shooting up like rockets and descending like ft shower of pearls in a perfect luxury of melody . How can you be weary of listening to a voice managed with such marvellous facility , vibrating like a silver bell , fresh and clear as crystal , soft as honey . What power ! what method ! what perfection ! She seems rather to breathe than to sing , so absolutely effortless , so gushing and spontaneous is the melodious utterance . Then the expression of her features so happy and gay , of an almost childlike simplicity and fresh grace is , as her voice , a repose , a luxury ,
a charm . Yet , notwithstanding the delight of listening to Alboni , I never knew any opera go off so flatly . It had not even strength enough to be knocked down .- it simply felt . Auber must have composed ( or rather collated ) the score in extreme haste . But we may do him the justice to say that he only copies from himself . Here a reminiscence of the Gustave , there of the Sirene ; now of the Lac des Ftes , presently of the Domino Noir or the Ambassadrice . Tho music ia neither grave nor # ay , neither lively nor severe , but has a fatigued and , if I may so say . transplanted air .
Auber has been a fertile composer , but not mora fertile than original . He has seldom attempted to conceal deficiency of melody under scientific pretensions ; always lively and elegant , charming , if not transporting . But a man who has gained 00 often honourable laurels , has no right to risk them : the more durable even his fame , the more jealous should he be not to fritter it away ; and not to make memory do the work of imagination . A Chinese dunce in the last act was the sole
original feature of the opera , and ( with considerable difliculty ) obtain * ( 1 the only encore of the evening . The accompaniment of the hautbois and piccolo is pleasingly bizarre . The Iiouhc was filled with * ' fun incrs" ( as they are called perhaps from the quantity of beard ) , and country folk . My neighbour asked me , Who the stout lady might be with the orange basket f Such is Fame ! He was occupied a great part of the evening in counting the number of boxes , and it may be even the people in the p it . The other evening , at the Flaulo Magico , I know , considerable disappointment was felt at Stig elli with his bund of niggers not perform-
Untitled Article
710 Cfte & ** & **? [ Saturday ,
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), July 26, 1851, page 710, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1893/page/18/
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