欧宝娱乐

Shaw has two distinct classes of follower: there are those who enjoy his vivid characters and humor, and those who idolize him as a revolutionary spiritual force. Each appreciates a different side of Shaw's character, and each of his plays presents a struggle between his creative instinct and his revolutionary ambitions.

His need to play the iconoclast was not limited to his socialism, his vegetarianism, and his contempt for medicine. Shaw was never afraid to adopt unpopular ideas, especially when they were novel and contentious. Yet, for as hard as he fought for new ideas, he often undermined them with slights and satire.

Those who believe in Shaw the prophet tend to ignore these subversions, or to chalk them up to playful sardonicism, but Shaw's constant doubts are not so easy to ignore, if one strains a bit to listen over the vehement philosophical outbursts which surround them.

Man and Superman represents perhaps the finest balance between his two extremes, neither overpowering the other. In this achievement he comes his closest to the style of Shakespeare, whom he idolized and often compared himself to in predictably favorable terms.

He once rewrote the third act of 'Cymbeline', which has been attributed partially to Shakespeare, excepting the messy third act, which was likely finished by an unknown playwright. In his preface, Shaw states with confidence that his childhood love of Shakespeare allowed him to recreate the Bard's voice and style perfectly; an assertion only Shaw's apostles fail to smirk at.

Like most authors, Shaw is not at his best when confirming his own superiority, which is one reason 'Man and Superman' retains its appeal. He finds many opportunities to place his pet ideas in the mouth of his author surrogate, but doesn't make the character either infallible or sympathetic.

His long diatribes, though impassioned, are rarely successful, and usually end in confusion or self-deprecation. Shakespeare always allows us to try on this or that idea, without coming out overwhelmingly for one side or the other. Shaw usually misses this trick, growing too one-sided or losing his argument altogether between the busyness of his various allegories, symbols, satires, jokes, romantic cliches, and existential realism. 'Man and Superman' is still very complex, relying on lengthy debates, idiomatically overwrought scene descriptions, coincidences that encourage disbelief, and an extended allegorical dream sequence (which is usually left out, reducing both production costs and pretension); but for once, Shaw is mostly able to maintain the elaborate balance between elements.

His author surrogate will be familiar to any Shaw reader, as are his other characters. Drawn from his familiar pool, we have the impassioned young political philosopher, the hypocritical romantic, the woman defined purely by her 'strength', the woman who knowingly takes advantage of the relationship between sex and money, the always 'bullet headed' capitalist, the conservative and blustery father, the clever mother who fails to control her daughter, and the rebellious servant.

He also reuses the same double marriage plot that tends to undermine his oft-asserted loathing of Romanticism. Between the repetition of character archetypes, ideas, and plot, Shaw's society plays can feel more like drafts than distinct visions. They differ chiefly in who wins which arguments, and whether or not the marriages are ultimately engaged.

In structure and satire, 'Mrs. Warren's Profession' is a stronger draft in terms of character, but 'Man and Superman' takes the prize for ideas explored, in both number and depth. 'Candida' presents a more dynamic presentation of the conflict between the philosopher and the hypocrite, but shares with 'Man and Superman' a rushed and unsure climax. Both rely on a debate of competing philosophies to move the plot along ('Candida' being starker in that regard), and both are ultimately content to leave the clash of ideas behind, instead resolving with the spiritual sentimentalism of a pretentious romance.

Another author might have used such an ending to show that in the end, thought must give way to action, and rarely gracefully. Instead, Shaw takes a common and disappointing stance: when his numerous ideas and faculty for reason eventually run out of steam, he personifies his ignorance in a grandiose phrase ('Life Force'), closes his eyes reverently, and declares profundity achieved.

It is the unremarkable endgame of every self-declared prophet, and is a good enough trick to impress those who are as desperate to feel important as they are to avoid the work necessary to become so. Again, Shaw makes the one mistake which will always separate him from Shakespeare: overcommitment.

Though he maintains balance and subtlety through much of the narrative, he loses his control at the moment of conclusion, undermining all the hard work that led up to it, and proves once again that he is peerless in at least one regard: he has no enemy as great as himself.