A NEW ZEALAND DRAMATIST.

Dunstan Times, Issue 3149, 25 December 1922, Page 7

A NEW ZEALAND DRAMATIST.

Throughout a long period of book reviewing we have only upon two pre vious occasions received anything ii the shape of the drama from a Ney Zealand publisher. Once a, little topi cal play reached us —a, poor thing, noi worth re-reading. But previously tx that we were favored with a copy of i full-fledged drama in five acts, writtei by one who had evidently studied th< romantic drama of the Elizabethans The title was "Under the Shadow oJ Dread," and the piece has always lingered in our mind by reason of t finely-drawn female character and some very beautiful lines in blank verse, The author was modest; for only initials appear on the title-page. ' Oui present purpose is to notice three short plays by Alan E. Mulgan. These belong to the modern school, and deal with matters of every-day life. The subject matter of the first play ("For Love of Appin") is the importation of Old-World troubles into the colonies. The scene is laid in a smaJl farm-house in the back-blocks of New Zealand. The characters number four: Angus Buchan (a Highlander), his wife (a Londoner). .John Harding (a visitor), and l The Stranger. When the play opens, Mrs Buchan and Mr Harding are in conversation, in the course of which we learn that the Highlander is suffering from an attack of Homesickness; and it further appears that Angus Bucban's parents had been evicted from a little farm in Scotland which the family had rented for many years: "Somebody who owned the place wanted more room for a forest to keep deer in, and turned Augus' father an' mother out and pulled down the 'ouse!" Angus brings his Old-World trouble out to New Zealand, and. like a well-known dame, nurses his wrath to keep it warm. So much so, that when he appears on the scene, brooding over his family grievance, he declares emphatically: "If ever I meet with one of that accursed race, may God protect him!" Shortly afterwards The Stranger enters, and here Mr Mulgan displays the sure touch of the true dramatist. In reading the play, one instinctively connects The Stranger with Buchan's early life; and it turns out that the former is the son of the man who evicted the hitter's parents. Stranger: Is it Angus Buchan? Angus: Ay, Angus it is. Ye never thought to meet me again. But, by God, we're man to man here, and I'll—(Angus seizes ln'm by the throat; Mrs Buohan darts forward between them and grasps her husband's arm.) Mrs Buchan : Leave 'im alone, Angus. This isn't the stige. What's 'e done to you? This interjection of Mrs 1 Buchan's is worth the whole book. Nothing could better drive home the lesson the play is evidently written to teach. And the result may be gathered from the closing lines. As the curtain falls, Angus asks: "And how was your father the Laird, when you last heard' of him?" The second play ("The Daughter") may be called a tragedy of the Might-have-Been, and deals with the middle life of a woman of education who married a struggling dairy-farmer. "Cows, cows, cows—nothing but cows, morning, noon, and night. Nothing but milking and housework, and housework and milking." Thus Mrs Bailey describes her married life. Through hard work, the family have prospered. But the material comfort obtained does not satisfy the wife, and the arrival of an old College friend, in the shape of > a successful lawyer, brings back memories of the days long gonCj when the woman's life and surroundings were so different from what they are now. Mrs Bailey's daughter, through want of early educational! opportunities, has developed into something of a hoyden, much to her mother's sorrow. The son, however, shares some of the finer feelings of the mother, and it is the action of this son at the close of the play which gives Mr Mulgan another chance •for the display of that dramatic instinct already noted. The play is calculated to provoke discussion. Is, or is not, Mrs Bailey justified in her attitude towards her surroundings? A lady friend of the writer's, who read the play, was emphatic on the subject: "If she wasn't prepared to make the best of a dairyfarmer's life, she should have married someone else." And here we may note a weakness in an otherwise strong play. There is no hint asi to why a woman like Mrs Bailey entered a world where there was "just one question —What are we going to get per pound for our butter-fat." Consequently, the fairminded reviewer scarcely knows whether to blame or pity her. The third play ("The Voice ol the People") is decidedly humorous. It is a caricature of the member of Parliament who smoodges around for political .support: George Bromley, M.P., keeps a note-book, in which he enters certain blunt details regarding the members of his constituency whom he occasionally visits, in order that he may always say the right thing at the right time. This note-book he loses, and it is found by a lady—a political opponent of Mi Bromley. It so happens that this lady has taken the fancy of Mr Bromley, and he decides to marry her—partly for political reasons. The scene where the member proposes to the lady, who has paid him a visit for the purpose of restoring the note>-book only on condition that he votes contrary to his alreadyexpressed pledge, is highly diverting. The lady prevails, under a threat to publish 'the contents of the note-book in the local press; and her closing words, as she leaves the room, are: "A quarter of an hour ago he was asking me to marry him, and now he doesn't even open the door for me. What an escape!" The plays all read well. The dialogue is natural, and, with the exception noted, the scenes are self-contained. Mr Mulgan has the gift of stressing an important point with a minimum of effort—hence his success. The publication and reading of contemporary drama open up a subject larger than we have now room to discuss. But the following remark of a London critic, written some years ago, may bo helpful to those to whom modern play-reading is a new experience:—"As soon as the imagination has been trained to 'see' the characters, to 'hear' their talk, to create their surroundings quickly from a hint or two about scenery, to realise the working of their minds with the aid of stage directions —then reading plays gives more pleasure than reading lovels. There is no padding."