Chapter I. PROLOGUE OF ALL THE LITERARY ARTS drum is the most social and the molt popular, in every sense of that word. Alone among the arts drama requires a cooperation of several people for its being. A novel may be written in solitude and read in solitude; so may an epic or a lyric poem or an essay. True, in earlier times poetry was generally sung or recited to an audience, and a folk story is normally told to a group. But they need not be. As the written and then the printed word has replaced the spoken, literature becomes more and more a solitary enjoyment--all kinds but the drama. In its very essence a community of people is required for the produc- tion of a play. Today there is commonly an author, a producer, a director, a group of actors, and numerous specialists in costume, lighting, scenery, perhaps even music and choreography. Next time you go to the cinema, note how many credit titles there are: "technical direction by so-and-so, Miss Star's gowns designed by so-and-so," and the rest of them. This is testimony to the community of talents necessary to produce the favorite kind of drama of our age. The millions of people who see the picture are witnesses to the popularity of this sort of drama. In simpler ages, of course, not so many people were required in the production of a play. But by the utmost economy--"nine may play it at ease" reads the note to on early play--you need a group of actors. A play read is not a real play any more than a blueprint is a house. A play must be acted, and therefore you must have actors. It is also common, and before radio and television it was necessary, to have an audience. That means that to enjoy drama you must become one of a group. People buy and read novels individually, but they must witness plays or the cinema, collectively. This is perhaps the most distinguishing mark between drama and the other literary arts. Drama is social, communal, and popular. Its rise and flourishing is always associated with some sort of group consciousness. Its great periods have invariably coincided with periods when a special solidarity was felt among large groups of people, whether the citizens of fifth century Athens, the burghers of medieval York, or the populace of Elizabethan London. The great dramatists of the world have appealed to a wide public. Aeschylus aimed at the whole population of Athens and Shakespeare at a considerable part of that of London. Milton wrote his Paradise Lost for a fit audience though few, and so have numbers of novelists, Proust for instance. But so far as I can discover no great dramatist ever wrote for -1- |