TO A YOUNG ACTRESS —Edited and with an introduction by Peter
Tompkins—Clarkson N. Potter, Inc. . In the ancient myth Pygmalion breathes life into his statue Galatea
through love. It was typical of Bernard Shaw, one of the last of the
great 19th century rationalist optimists, that in his Pygmalion,
Professor Henry Higgins teaches Eliza Doolittle into existence.
Give Shaw an actress, a breed he regarded as intrinsically brainless,
and the sage would begin playing post office, or frequently postcard.
Absence definitely made Shaw's heart grow fonder, and for added
emotional insurance the women were al ways married, as was he. The two
most celebrated of these epistolary romances involved Mrs. Pat Campbell
and Ellen Terry, but the headiest, cranially speaking, has only just
come to light. Shaw's heroine in this instance was a well-to-do
American dilettante named Mrs. Molly Tompkins. He was 65, she 24, when
they met in 1921, and for the next 28 years, he bombarded her with
advice about everything from acting to child rearing, vowels to
vegetarianism. The irony was that, unlike Eliza, Molly was unteachable. Were or Hwen. Young Molly and her husband Laurence arrived in England as
Shavian cultists. Laurence, a would-be architect, wanted to build a
theater shrine; Molly, a would-be actress, wanted to play Shaw
heroines. Though Shaw was not immune to Molly's shapely figure and
“eyes like muscatel grapes,” he quickly let her know that his
first love was English. He packed her off to the Royal Academy of
Dramatic Art to drop her “very queer R's” and pick up her
elocutionary ABCs. One of his early obiter dictions: “Wot, wich,
were, wen. weel, etc. are absolutely incorrect; but the alternatives hwat,
hwich, hwere, hwen, and hweel are equally incorrect.” He found her makeup appalling
, and she was always offending
the Shavian dietary laws: “I exhort you to remember that you are a
human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech, and
not a confectioner's shop.” Some sample instructions: “Education in the ways of the world is a series of humiliations,
like learning to skate. All you can do is to laugh at yourself with the
crowd.” “Wearing black [is] the only resource of
people who cannot dress because they have no color sense.” “Have you not yet discovered that the only roads that remain
beautiful are those that never led anywhere? For you never come to the
end of them.” “If you have started being afraid of me,
all is over. Lots of people are: that is why they hate me. The fear of
God may be the beginning of wisdom; but the fear of Man is the
beginning of murder.” Cure for the Learned. The trouble with Molly
was that she feared nothing, especially her own limitations, and liked
to indulge in the vocational therapy of the rich—changing vocations.
She dropped acting for painting, painting for playwriting. G.B.S.
steadily urged her to be a disciplined pro, but her game was con,
starting sadly enough with herself.
