ed we
remember that mere existence can hardly be called life. Its basic
thought has much in common with that of Frank Wedekind's "Earth
Spirit," but Schnitzler spiritualizes what the German playwright has
vulgarized. There is a lot of modern heresy in that thought--a lot of
revived and refined paganism that stands in sharp opposition to the
spirit of Christianity as it has been interpreted hitherto. It might be
summarized as a twentieth century version of Achilles' declaration that
he would rather be a live dog than the ruler of all the shades in
Hades. "What a creature can I be," cries _Marie_, "to emerge out of
such an experience as out of a bad dream--awake--and living--and
wanting to live?" And the kind, wise, Schnitzlerian doctor's answer is:
"You are alive--and the rest _has been_...." Life itself is its own
warrant and explanation. Unimpaired life--life with the power and will
to go on living--is the greatest boon and best remedy of any that can
be offered.
The weak point of "The Call to Life" is _Marie's_ father, the old
_Moser_--one of the most repulsive figures ever seen on the stage. It
may have been made what it is in order that the girl's crime might not
hopelessly prejudice the spectator at the start and thus render all the
rest of the play futile. We must remember, too, that the monstrous
egoism of _Moser_ is not represented as a typical quality of that old
age which feels itself robbed by the advance of triumphant youth. What
Schnitzler shows is that egoism grows more repulsive as increasing age
makes it less warranted. The middle act of the play, with its
remarkable conversation between the _Colonel_ and _Max_, brings us back
to "Outside the Game Laws." That earlier play was in its time declared
the best existing stage presentation of the spirit engendered by the
military life. But it has a close second in "The Call of Life." To
anyone having watched the manners of militarism in Europe, the words of
the _Colonel_ to _Max_ will sound as an all-sufficient explanation: "No
physicians have to spend thirty years at the side of beds containing
puppets instead of human patients--no lawyers have to practice on
criminals made out of pasteboard--and even the ministers are not
infrequently preaching to people who actually believe in heaven and
hell."
If "The Lonely Way" be Schnitzler's greatest play all around, and
"Intermezzo" his subtlest, "Countess Mizzie" is the sweetest, the best
tempered, the one that l
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