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PREFACE
‘ As to my personal attitude
towards criticism,I confess in
brief the following:—“If my
works are good and of any importance whatever for the further
development of art,they will
maintain their place in spite of all adverse criticism and in spite
of all hateful suspicions attached to my artistic
intentions.If my works are of
no account,the most gratifying
success of the moment and the most enthusiastic approval of as
augurs cannot make them endure.The waste-paper press can devour them as it has devoured
many others,and I will not
shed a tear . . . and the world will move on just the
same.”’—Richard Strauss.The contents of this volume require some explanation of an
historical nature. It is scarcely realised by the present
generation that Wilde’s works on their first appearance, with the
exception ofDe Profundis, were
met with almost general condemnation and ridicule. The plays on
their first production were grudgingly praised because their
obvious success could not be ignored; but on their subsequent
publication in book form they were violently assailed. That nearly
all of them have held the stage is still a source of irritation
among certain journalists.Saloméhowever enjoys a singular career. As every one knows, it was
prohibited by the Censor when in rehearsal by Madame Bernhardt at
the Palace Theatre in 1892. On its publication in 1893 it was
greeted with greater abuse than any other of Wilde’s works, and was
consigned to the usual irrevocable oblivion. The accuracy of the
French was freely canvassed, and of course it is obvious that the
French is not that of a Frenchman. The play was passed for press,
however, by no less a writer than Marcel Schwob whose letter to the
Paris publisher, returning the proofs and mentioning two or three
slight alterations, is still in my possession. Marcel Schwob told
me some years afterwards that he thought it would have spoiled the
spontaneity and character of Wilde’s style if he had tried to
harmonise it with the diction demanded by the French Academy. It
was never composed with any idea of presentation. Madame Bernhardt
happened to say she wished Wilde would write a play for her; he
replied in jest that he had done so. She insisted on seeing the
manuscript, and decided on its immediate production, ignorant or
forgetful of the English law which prohibits the introduction of
Scriptural characters on the stage. With his keen sense of the
theatre Wilde would never have contrived the long speech of Salomé
at the end in a drama intended for the stage, even in the days of
long speeches. His threat to change his nationality shortly after
the Censor’s interference called forth a most delightful and
good-natured caricature of him by Mr. Bernard Partridge inPunch.Wilde was still in prison in 1896 whenSaloméwas produced by Lugne Poë at the
Théàtre de L’Œuvre in Paris, but except for an account in
theDaily Telegraphthe incident
was hardly mentioned in England. I gather that the performance was
only a qualified success, though Lugne Poë’s triumph as Herod was
generally acknowledged. In 1901, within a year of the author’s
death, it was produced in Berlin; from that moment it has held the
European stage. It has run for a longer consecutive period in
Germany than any play by any Englishman, not excepting Shakespeare.
Its popularity has extended to all countries where it is not
prohibited. It is performed throughout Europe, Asia and America. It
is played even in Yiddish. This is remarkable in view of the many
dramas by French and German writers who treat of the same theme. To
none of them, however, is Wilde indebted. Flaubert, Maeterlinck
(some would add Ollendorff) and Scripture, are the obvious sources
on which he has freely drawn for what I do not hesitate to call the
most powerful and perfect of all his dramas. But on such a point a
trustee and executor may be prejudiced because it is the most
valuable asset in Wilde’s literary estate. Aubrey Beardsley’s
illustrations are too well known to need more than a passing
reference. In the world of art criticism they excited almost as
much attention as Wilde’s drama has excited in the world of
intellect.During May 1905 the play was produced in England for the
first time at a private performance by the New Stage Club. No one
present will have forgotten the extraordinary tension of the
audience on that occasion, those who disliked the play and its
author being hypnotised by the extraordinary power of Mr. Robert
Farquharson’s Herod, one of the finest pieces of acting ever seen
in this country. My friends the dramatic critics (and many of them
are personal friends) fell onSaloméwith all the vigour of their predecessors twelve years
before. Unaware of what was taking place in Germany, they spoke of
the play as having been ‘dragged from obscurity.’ The Official
Receiver in Bankruptcy and myself were, however, better informed.
And much pleasure has been derived from reading those criticisms,
all carefully preserved along with the list of receipts which were
simultaneously pouring in from the German performances. To do the
critics justice they never withdrew any of their printed opinions,
which were all trotted out again when the play was produced
privately for the second time in England by the Literary Theatre
Society in 1906. In theSpeakerof July 14th, 1906, however, some of the iterated
misrepresentations of fact were corrected. No attempt was made to
controvert the opinion of an ignorant critic: his veracity only was
impugned. The powers of vaticination possessed by such judges of
drama can be fairly tested in the career ofSaloméon the European stage, apart
from the opera. In an introduction to the English translation
published by Mr. John Lane it is pointed out that Wilde’s confusion
of Herod Antipas (Matt. xiv. 1) with Herod the Great (Matt. ii. 1)
and Herod Agrippa I. (Acts xii. 23) is intentional, and follows a
mediæval convention. There is no attempt at historical accuracy or
archæological exactness. Those who saw the marvellousdécorof Mr. Charles Ricketts at the
second English production can form a complete idea of what Wilde
intended in that respect; although the stage management was clumsy
and amateurish. The great opera of Richard Strauss does not fall
within my province; but the fag ends of its popularity on the
Continent have been imported here oddly enough through the agency
of the Palace Theatre, where