Zola, Emile (1881) ‘Naturalism on the Stage’, in Toby Cole [ed.] (2001) Playwrights on Playwriting: from Ibsen to Tonesco, New York: Cooper Square Press, pp. 5-14 ‘EMILE ZOLA (1840-1909) Naturalism on the Stage* (1881) ‘Tae nerutse of the century is toward naturalism. Today this force, racing toward us, is being emphasized more and more, and everything must obey it. This force bas abducted the novel and the drema. The development of the natural- istic force has progressed more quickly in the novel to the point of triumph; on the stage itis just beginning to ap- pear. This was bound to be, The theatre has always been 42 stronghold of convention for many reasone which T want to explain Inter. I would like to come simply to this point: the naturalistic formula, however complete and de- fined in the novel, is far from being. well sated in the theatre, and I conclude that the formula must be realized and that take on a strictness of form emanating from its scicatife nature, or else the drama will become bluated and more and more inferior. Some people are very angry with me, and they shout, “But what do you want? What further development do you need? Is this evolution not already an accomplished fact? Hiave not Emile Augier, Dumas fis, and Vietorien Sardou pushed as far as possible the observation and the painting ‘of our society? Let us stop at this point—we are already. too concerned with the realities of this world.” Firt of all, these people are naive to want to stop this natural Ihave experienced only the first at- certain ideas bave made their the public becomes accustomed to these ideas’ and until their force destroys the obstacles one bY fone. I have attempted in looking over Serdou, Dumas fils, and Auger to explain for what reasons 1 consider them workmen who are clearing the ground of rubbish, 2 Baile Zols, “Le Naturaliome ao thie,” Le Roman ex- périmental (rus: E. Pasquale, 1902). tombined with forine tod thing rom Se dine when storie, when 20 fe observations i of which doeroy even the good puts ct pay am wating throw out he tick of the trade, the contrived formula, hd pera Inugis. Te wa ck ld of ecle ‘maton, 3d ooble went, have the unimpeachabe morlty of truth and to tach us the fghtning lon of am wag. finaly, und satr‘sready shore inthe tl he lye wright return oder Painting of life in an exact reproduction more original ‘and powerful than anyone has to risk on the ‘This is what I am waiting for. Some people shrug thelr shoulders, laugh, ‘wait forever. Their Secisive argument is that I must not expect these things on the stage. The theatre theatre has sven us what it be content with the result. Now we of the quarrel, Tam tying to ‘tistence on the sage. If what T lies have a place fon the boards: romantic places,‘hat its Jength in time; then the characters are given & ‘certain value which necessitates « fictional setting. I will ‘not quote all the arguments. Now I come to the audience's intervention, which is considerable; the audience wishes this, the audience doce not want chat; it prefers four sym- tary, is enclosed in a rigid frame; he must obey all Kinds of nevewitis. He moves only in the milieu of obstacles Finally, there is the question of the isolated reader and the 8 PLAYWRIGHTS ON PLAYWRITING Jhus hd in the novel. The theaue, under its conditions of ‘existence, must be the last, most Tabored and disputed conquest ofthe sprit of truth, Let us admit for a moment that the critics are right, ‘when they assert that naturalism is impossible in the theatre. Here is what these critce believe. Conventional- ity is « bard and fast rule on the stage; the He will always have its place there. We are condemned to a continuance ‘of Sardou's juggling, to the theories and witticiame of ‘Dumas fils, and to the nice characters of Bmile Augie. ‘We will not create anything greater than the genius of theatre under the novel, you assign it an inferior place, you make it contemptible and useless inthe eyes of generations ‘to come. What do you wish us to do with the stage, we ox. are followers of the truth, anstomists, analysts, ex- Jlorers of life, compilers of human data, if you prove to ‘us that in the theatre we cannot use our methods Or tools? Really! The theatre lives only on conventionalitie; it must li; it refuses to accept our experimental Biterature! Ob, ‘well. then, the century will pur the theatre aside, abandon i to the hands of the public entertainers, and will perform its great and superb work elsewhere. You proaounce the verdict, and you Kill the stage. Its very evident that the naturalistic evolution will extend itself more and more because it is the very intelligence of the century. While the novelists are digging always further toward the truth, producing newer and more exact human documents, the fheatre wil founder more every day in the center of its Tomantic fictions, worn-out plots, and skillfulness of con- struction. The situation will become more annoying be- ccause the public will certainly acquire a taste for reality in reading novels. The naturalisie movement is making itself forcibly felt. There will come a time when the public ‘will shrug itt shoulders and demand an innovation {a thefam 2014 9 ‘theatre. Fither the stage will be naturalistic, or it will aot fear all; each ie the formal conclusir T have the strongest faith in the future of our theatre. I no longer admit that the critics are right in saying that ‘aturalism is impossible on the stage, and I am going to ‘explain under what conditions the movement will, without ‘any doubt, be brought about. ‘No, itis not true that the stage must remain stationary; it i not true that its actual conveationalities ae the funda ‘mental conditions of its existence. Everything goes on, T repeat; everything goes forward. The authore of today will be overruled; they cannot have the presumption 10 de- cide dramatic literature forever. What these authors have stammered about the opposition will clearly affirm; but the stage will not be shaken up because of the disagreeme ‘ill enter, on the contrary, nto a wider and straighter path. People have always resisted the march forward: they have denied tothe newcomers the power and the right to accom plish what has not been performed by their elders. But the older generation will remain angry and blind ia vain. The social and literary cvolutions have an irresistible force; they can cross with one leap enormous obstacles which were said to be impassable. The theatre has been in vain what it is today; it wil be tomorrow what it should be. And when the event takes place, everybody will think it perfectly satura. “Here I enter into mere probabilities, and I am no longer pretending to have the same scientific exactitude. As long ‘as T have reasoned on facts, 1 have proved the truth of ‘my position. Now I am content to foretell the future. The evolution will take plice; that is certain. But will it pass to the left? Will it pass to’the right? T do not zeally know. ‘One can reason aboutit, nothing more. ‘Moreover, itis certain that the conditions existing on the stage will always be diferent. The nove, thanks to its free form, will azain perhaps the perfect tool of the cen- ‘tury while the stage wil follow it and complete ite action. “The marvelous power ofthe theatre must not be forgotten ‘or must its immediat effect upon the audience. No better instrament for propagunda exists. Ifthe novel, thea, is read by the fireside, in several instances, with a patience toler- ating the longest detais, the naturalistic drama should pro- ‘claim above all that it hap no relation to this laolated 10 PLAYWRIGHTS ON PLAYWRITING reader, but fo a crowd who demund clearness and concise- ness. I'do not see that the neturalite formula ix antagonis- tic to this conciseness and cleamess. The novel analyzes at length with a minuteness of detail which overlooks nothing; the stage can analyze as briefly as it wishes by ‘actions and words. In Belzac’s work a Word of a ery is often sufficient to describe the entire character. This cry belongs essentially 1o the theatre. As to the acts, they are consis- ent with analysis in action, the most striking form of action one can make. When we have gotten rid of the chiles play of a plot, the infantile game of tying up com- plicated threads in order to have the pleasure of untying ‘them aguin; when a play shall te only a real and logical story, we shall have perfect analysis; we shall analyze for- cibly the double influence of characters over facts, of facts ‘over characters. This idea ig what has led me to say 20 often that the naturalistic formula carries us back to the source itself of our national stage with its classical formula, In Cornell's tragedies and Molidre's comedies, we find this continuous analysis of character which T find neoes- ‘sary; plot takes 2 secondary place, and the work is a long. dissertation in dialogue on man, Only instead of an ab- stract man, T would substitute a natural man, put him ia his proper surroundings, and anclyze all the physical and social causes which make him what he is. To me, ia a word, the classical formula is a good one, on coadition that the scientifc method is employed in the study of so- ciety itself, in the same way thatthe science of chemistry is the study of compounds and their properties. ‘As to the long descriptions used in the novel, they can- not be used on the stage; that is evident. The naturalistic novelists describe at length, not for the pleasure of describing as they have been reproached for’ doing, but because description is part of their formula to put down full details about the character, and to make him com- plete by means of his environment. Such a novelist no fonger looks on man as an intellectual abstraction ex he ‘was looked upon in the seventeesth century; be is & ng animal, who forms past of nature, and who i subject to the multiple influences of the sol in which he grows and where he lives. That is why a climate, a country, » horizon, are often decisively important. The novelist no longer sepa: rates his character from the air he bresthes; he Joes bot describe him because of any rhetorical need, as thefons 2014, 1" 2 PLAYWRIGHTS OW PLAYWRETINO Aida poets i siagty veotonaty remains iss she bo inthe novelThe (OY) takes n nore of the mat ‘he Gade Saine idea applies to the question of time—but one must. his characters at every hour, facts are cheat a litle here. A plot which calls for Afteen day, for produced, in order eeallos example, must be played in the three Hours which we set that his ‘inquiry ‘compre- apart for reading. a novel or seving i played. at the hensive view and coprodu Descrip- theatre, We are not the creative force which governs the ‘Sons necd not be transplan ‘ound ‘world; we are only second-rate creator who analyz, sum there naturally. Is not the sage st «continual description tarize by (ial and ecror, who are bappy and acclaimed a4 ‘ore exact ad starting "pt novel? geniuses when we ean disengage one ray ofthe tuth. ‘Awe ts oaly. painted. nal T come now to the language. My detractors aay that eed, but in & oovel it cardboard— there is a special style for the stage. They want it to be a Sti blackened paper despite which the fusion i crested. style completely different from that of daily conversation, ‘After the scene. et orpringly more sonorous, more sensitive, writen in a higher key, ‘toe, that we have recently seco in Gur theatres’ no oa cut in facets, no. doubt to make the theatre's cbendeliers fan’ any longer “deny the pouttilty of producing the sparkle, In our time, for example, Dumes fils has the Sealey of environm ‘dramatic reputation of being a great playwright. His witicisms are Ethers now to ullise iu reality Gey wil fasieh the celebrated, They are shot off Tike skyrockets, falling in characters and. the feat under the showers to the audience's applause. Besides, ail his char ‘author's direction, will furnish the descriptions, as exact aa acters speak the same language, the language of wit thal be necessary. tis up to de author to make Paris, spinning with paradoxes, always aiming for a good ‘we of enviroameats as novelists do, since the novelists hit, sharp and hard. T do not deay the sparkle of this Know bow to intoduce and make’ alch environments Janguage—but itis « superficial sparkle which contains no ae ‘ruth. ‘Nothing is more fatiguing than. these continual will add that, since the theatre is « material reproduo- mocking sentences. T would prefer greater fledbilty and tion of life, external surroundings ave always been naturalness. These sentences are at once foo well and not necessity there. Inthe seventeenth century, however, nature well enough written. The true stylist of our age are the ‘was not considered important, and, 28" man was’ looked novelits—you must look to Gustave Flaubert and to the ‘upon only as «purely intellectual being, the scenery was| Goncourts to find impeccable, living, and original syle ‘vagucm—a perstyle of a temple, any kind of 8 room of ‘When you compare Dumas’ style to that of these grea Public place would do. Today the naturalistic movement ‘rose autbors you find it does not stand up in correctness, {its brought about « more and more perfect exactness in Color, of emotion. What I want to hear in the theatre is stage scenery. Such fidelity was produced inevitably, litle spoken language. If we sze_not able t0 reproduce on by lite. 1 even find in this exactness proof of the un: the stage a conversation with ‘ts repetition, its length, heralded tak that aturalism has accomplished in the snd its useful words, the emotion and tone of the con. theatre since the beginning of the century. I cannot study versation could be Kept; the individual tum of mind of ‘thoroughly tha quetion of seenery and accesoren, I mist ‘each speaker, the reality, in a word, reproduced to the content myself by stating that description is not only necessity eent. The Goncourts have made a ctriogs possible on the stage, but it is, moreover, a necesity which fttempt at this style io Henrie Maréchal, that play IS itaposed on the theatre as" an events! condition of is ‘hich no one wanted to fst fo and which 90 one knows : anything about. The Greek actors spoke through « brass 1 do fot have to talk about the change of place. The tube; during the time of Louis XIV the comedians 120g nity of place has not been observed for a long time. The their roles ia a singsong tone to give thems more pomp: playwrights do not Restate to dopict an entire existence, today we are content t© say there is a language of the to take the audience to both ends of the earth. Here con theatre which is more sonorous and explosive, You can seetoms sea sO {from these examples what progress we have made. One day the public will peresive that the best style in the theatre is that which bes seu forth the spoken coaversation, which puts the exact word in its proper place, giving it its just Yalue. The aaturalstic novelists have already writen ex- cellent models of dialogue, reduced to strictly useful ‘words. The question of sentimental characters now remains. do not disguise the fact that such a question is of capital importance. The public remains cold when its passion for an ideal character of loyalty and honor is not satited. ‘A play which prevents the audience with living characters ta¥en from real life looks black and austere to ity when the play does not completely exasperate the public. itis on this point especially that the battle of naturalism is fought. We must learn to be patient. At the present time a secret change is taking place in the public's feeling; people are coming litle by litle, encouraged by the spirit of the century, to agree to a bold interpretation of real life and are even beginning to acquire a taste for it. When audiences ccan no longer stand certain lies, we shall have very nearly gained our point. Already ‘the novelists’ work is preparing the ground for our audiences. A time will come ‘when a master playwright can reveal bis ideas on the stage, finding there a public enthusiastically in favor of the ‘cuth. It will bea question of tact and strength. Such audi- fences will sce then that the greatest and most useful lessons ‘ll be taught by depicting life as ti, and not by repeat ‘generalities nor by speeches of bravado which are spol merely to please our ear. “The two formulas are before us: the naturalistic formula which makes the stage a stady and picture of real life; and ‘the conventional formula which makes the stage an amuse- ‘meat for the mind, an intellectual guessing. game, an art ‘of adjustment and symmetry regulated after a certain code. In fact, everything depends on the idea one has of Titeratore and of the drama in particular. If we admit that literature is an inquiry about things and human beings made by original minds, we are naturalists, If we pretend that literature isa framework superimposed upon the truth, that a waiter must make use of observation merely in order to exhibit his power of fnveation and arrangement, we are ‘idealists and proctaim the necesity of conventionsity. ‘And I add that we shall have Life on the stage as we already have it in the novel. This would-be logic of actual