Theme of escape

Since Gar is the central character in this play it is important to consider his character in
relation to the other characters.  What first strikes us about the play is, perhaps, the
dominance of the male characters. There are only three female characters in the play –
Madge, Kate Doogan, and Lizzie Sweeney – and they take up only a small part of the plot. 
We could see this absence of women as an important aspect of the play – and of course, it is
a failing which Friel rectified in later plays such as Dancing at Lughnasa.  Here, however, it
points, we could suggest, to the absence of even greater things – warmth, love, affection,
tenderness, sincerity – and this is partly correct. Gar, we notice, is motherless.  His only love
affair has ended in failure.  He looks to his father for affection only to be disappointed.  Madge
can only partly fulfil this need for affection which Gar so strongly expresses.  Significantly one
of the few uses of the word ‘love’ in the play is in a casual and incidental context, namely, in
the letter Gar has written to his Aunt Lizzy accepting her invitation (p. 56).  It would seem,
therefore, that Friel is attempting to describe a world in which the ordinary affections that bring
people closer together are absent.
So, we have established that female characters are missing from this play and so too are the
human qualities they represent.  But a close reading of the text reveals that women seem
often to be hovering in the background.  They appear as topics of conversation on more than
one occasion.  Some of these occasions are slight, although others are more important.  At
different instances in the play,  Gar thinks of ‘the gorgeous American women’ he will meet in
Philadelphia.  In more serious moods, however, he questions Madge about his mother, and
he recalls in detail his ‘love-affair’ with Katie Doogan.  Each of these occasions is
accompanied by a sense of loss.  The Canon also – the epitome of the single male – is a
totally emotionless character.  When ‘the boys’ come in to visit Gar, the conversation soon
turns round to women.  Ned relates a story of a rather crude sexual adventure, and the boys
all join in and laugh.  However, Private gives the true version of Ned’s story.  After that, Ned’s
comments about ‘picking up a couple of women’ at the dance sound hollow and even
pathetic.

With these points in mind, we can now consider Gar’s character in more detail.  Gar is the
protagonist of the play and the entire action revolves around him.  At the start, we get a sense
of his enthusiasm and his youth.  He looks forward to his departure with a keen sense of
delight.  His old life is over, and he looks on his release from his father’s shop as an escape. 
Typically, he thinks of America in extravagant terms: the cities, the women, the affluence, the
tremendous opportunities.  These are the things he wants to experience.  But they are also
the things he has no real affection for.  When Private makes his first entrance (p. 17), little
episodes from the past begin to crop up in the play, past events which begin to dim Gar’s
bright future.  As he thinks of his life in Ballybeg, Gar says with relief, ‘It’s all over’ (p. 17).  To
this Private adds, ‘And it’s all about to begin’.  This simple sentence, Private’s first statement
in the play, is truer than it first appears.  For Gar, everything does begin again, and before the
play is over he relives many important episodes in his life.  From this point, the play goes on
to describe his mother’s death, then the episode with Katie Doogan.  Later he will remember
his childish affection for his father, the day they spent in the blue boat, as well as the nights
and days he spent with ‘the boys’.
As all these memories come back to Gar his enthusiasm for America begins to wane.  When
he feels hurt or threatened his principal defence is to pass it off with a laugh.  During the tea-
time episode, while he sits with his father in silence, Private moves about the stage with
comments directed at S.B.: ‘O God!  Priceless!  Beautiful!  Delightful!  Isn’t he a scream!’  We
see the same sort of behaviour during the game of draughts, and when ‘the boys’ come to
visit.  On other occasions, however, Gar’s enthusiasm deserts him.  He feels humiliated,
alone, threatened, unable to laugh at his situation or to deflate it with humorous comments. 
There are numerous instances of this in the play.

For example, towards the end of Episode Two, after the scene with Katie Doogan, Gar is
feeling upset and confused.  Her cosy description of family life – ‘Mammy and Daddy. 
They’re all at home tonight’. – is strangely disturbing to Gar who has no experience of these
things.  As is usual for Gar he tries to hide his feelings, to laugh and to whistle.  His mind
races over the day’s happenings and we get a confused speech from Private describing a
mixture of past, present and future events.  He tries to console Gar that his situation ‘isn’t as
bad as that …. Isn’t as bad as that’.  Then suddenly Gar’s mind turns back to S.B. and we get
a poignant climax to the speech just before the curtain drops, ‘….say something!  Say
something, father!’

For the rest of the play, Gar struggles to regain his composure.  In the rosary scene he diverts
his attention by thinking of ‘those Yankee women’ and of girls with exotic names, ‘Karin and
Tamara’ (p. 88).  But memories from the past keep crowding into his mind.  He remembers,
‘that wintry morning in Bailtefree and the three days in Bundoran….’  He also recalls his most
precious memory, the day he spent fishing with his father on the lake, ‘and you were happy
too, you began to sing….’

Music and song are important aspects of Gar’s world, indeed of the play in general.  The
play’s title comes from the words of a song, and music and singing are introduced on several
occasions in the play.  These musical interludes have several functions.  In the first place,
they add realism to the action and are an important bridge between the characters and the
audience.  Secondly, they suggest the contrast that exists within Private and Public.  While
Public’s affection is for Mendelssohn and for softer Irish ballads, Private prefers ceili music
and coarser Irish songs.  Thirdly, musical interludes serve to recall past events to Gar’s mind,
events that he had hidden away in his memory but which music and song evoke again.  One
particular touching example of this is the evocative ballad, ‘All round my hat I’ll wear a green
coloured ribbon O…’.  Gar recalls this song with tremendous affection.  His father sang it at
the end of their fishing trip on the lake.  For Gar, it symbolises the happiness of that day so
long ago.  At the end of the play, he shyly approaches his father about this song, feeling sure
that it would rekindle his memories also.  As usual, however, Gar’s efforts end in
disappointment, ‘All round my hat?  No, I don’t think I ever knew that one….’.

One important aspect of Gar’s personality is seen in his relationship with the other characters
in the play, particularly his father.  He criticises and parodies his father’s behaviour, and
makes him the subject of humorous comments.  But he still feels a strong bond of affection for
him.  It is necessary that Friel should depict Gar in this way.  If Gar rejected his father outright,
his friends, and his past life in Ballybeg, then much of the drama would be lost.  The success
of the play comes from the tension in Gar’s feelings towards his father, his friends and his
past life.  Thus, he can laugh at his father, make fun of him verbally, but he can never reject
him.  Gar calls him ‘Screwballs’, and that, if anything, is certainly a term of abuse.  But he also
refers to him affectionately as ‘father’ on numerous occasions in the play.  All the efforts at
reconciliation are made by Gar.  When he is rejected, we find him using words like, ‘It doesn’t
matter… It doesn’t matter.  Forget it’ (p105).  W might reasonably expect that this rejection
might lead to a complete loss of affection on Gar’s part.  But in fact, it never does.  Right up to
the end of the play we never lose our esteem for him.  Even in the last lines, we find him
expressing his concern to Madge about his father’s welfare:’….you’d led me know  if – if he
got sick or anything?’

This very human side to Gar’s character is seen also in his relationship with other people in
the play.  When Master Boyle enters, for example, Gar thinks: ‘God, but he’s a sorry wreck
too, arrogant and pathetic’ (p.44).  In spite of this, however, he proceeds to treat Master Boyle
with tremendous courtesy and respect.  The Master is in trouble with the Canon, but Gar
affectionately takes his side (‘Sure everyone knows the kind of the Canon, Master’ (p.44).  He
also accepts the present of his poems and helps him out with the loan of some money. 
Finally, he agrees to send the Master the names of newspapers and magazines where his
poems might get published.

We get an extended look at this aspect of Gar’s character in his dealings with Madge
throughout the play.  We notice, for example, that he never once criticises her in any way. 
Neither does he treat her as a figure of fun as he does his father and Canon 0’Byrne.   His
behaviour towards her is always good-natured and affectionate.  When she tells him the news
about her niece’s new baby, Gar is delighted for her sake. In Episode One we get a long
speech in which Gar’s affection for Madge is clearly expressed.  Private addresses Gar with
the following words: ‘And now what are you sad about?  Just because she lives for those
Mulhern children, and gives them whatever few half-pence she has.  Madge, Madge, I think I
love you more than any of them.  Give me a piece of your courage, Madge’ (p.38). The final
scene of Episode Three provides a touching conclusion to Gar’s affection for Madge in the
play.  As usual Gar’s feelings are hidden under his casual, indifferent comments, just as
Madge’s true feelings are camouflaged by her gruffness.  But Gar watches her attentively in a
way that he will remember for the rest of his life: ‘Watch her carefully, every moment, every
gesture, every little peculiarity: keep the camera whirring; for this is a film you’ll run over and
over again..’(p.110).

In the scene with ‘the boys’ Gar’s polite, submissive character is again shown quite clearly. 
At the beginning of this scene, Gar is flattered that ‘the boys’ have come to see him: ‘They
were on their way when I ran into them’ (p.69), he says, happily.  Soon Ned, the loudest and
most boorish member of the group, dominates the conversation.  He belches, slaps his
knees, talks in a loud aggressive manner.  His behaviour to Gar is somewhat uncivil, and at
one point he turns on him gruffly: ‘Are you calling me a liar?’ (p.70.).  Yet Gar tries to raise our
esteem for his friends by saying: ‘The boys….They  weren’t always like this, were they? 
There was a hell of a lot of laughing, wasn’t there?’ (p.71).  In particular, Gar is polite and civil
in his comments on Ned.  When Private tells the true version of Ned’s story (p. 73), he does
so without verbal censure or abuse.  Indeed whatever element of criticism there is in this
speech, it is directed at Gar himself as well as at ‘the boys’.  In the end, he accepts and is
impressed with Ned’s present (‘the broad leather belt with the huge brass buckle’).  In the
speech that concludes this scene, Gar thinks of his friend in amiable terms (‘Joe and Tom and
big, thick, generous Ned..’). His memory of them is ‘distilled of all its coarseness; and what’s
left is going to be precious, precious, gold..’ (p.79).

There are two scenes in the play, which describe Gar’s relationship with Katie Doogan.  Each
of these scenes is completely different to the other.  In the first (pp. 27-32), Gar thinks of Katie
with tenderness and blames himself for the failure of their relationship.  As he looks at her
picture, all the details of their courtship come back to his memory.  Some of the few manifest
displays of affection in the play are shown in this scene.  Gar thinks of Katie as ‘gentle and
frail and silly’.  Here they make plans for their future, the money they will have to live on, the
number of children they will have.  There is a lot of tender kissing and cuddling as they
discuss and exchange ideas.  But the scene suddenly changes its tone when Gar goes to visit
Katie’s father.  This is apparently Gar’s first experience of upper-class society and he feels
self-conscious and ill-at-ease.  Surveying the affluence of Katie’s house, Gar’s plans for her
future suddenly seem pathetic.  Even before he hears about Francis King, the rich medical
student, Gar’s confidence is deflated and he is suddenly stuck for words.  Friel is obviously
making an important social comment at this point.  Senator Doogan welcomes Gar quite
courteously, but he doesn’t want Gar to marry Katie.  Though Gar and Katie have tremendous
affection for one another, a strong class barrier separates them.  It is the prerogative of the
rich to manipulate their sons’ and daughters’ lives, and that is what happens here.  Marriages
are arranged with a view to money and status; emotional issues are irrelevant.  In such
circumstances, Gar’s relationship with Katie was a failure from the beginning.

Katie’s second entrance in the play in Episode Two and here Gar’s behaviour is in complete
contrast to their first appearance together.  Kate has since married Francis King, ‘the king of
the fairies’, just as her father had planned.  Gar’s conversation at this point revolves around
references to money.  He tells Katie how he hopes to study medicine, to make a lot of money,
to come home when he has made his first million.  All of this is a cover-up, a pretence, as the
comments of Private make clear.  Gar suddenly gets loud and aggressive.  His words and his
behaviour are in complete contrast to his tender exchanges with Katie in Episode One.  The
division between them is now complete.  Yet the tragedy of the situation is that he still has
some feelings for her, despite his outward behaviour.  When he leaves, he is in a state of
confusion.  He repeats her name and thinks about what might have been (‘seven boys and
seven girls – and our daughters will be all gentle and frail and silly like you…Kate… Sweet
Katie Doogan…my darling Kathy Doogan’) (p. 82).

Throughout the play, Gar’s feelings are a mixture of jubilation and misery.  By subjecting him
to these conflicting emotions, Friel ensures that Gar retains the audience’s attention and
sympathy.  In the play, Gar’s character is drawn in a very human and believable manner.  He
is a typical, exuberant youth, prepared to take risks, unwilling to let life’s opportunities pass
him by.  But there is also a deeply emotional side to his character.  He feels the need for
affection, recognition and sympathy.  His character is far from perfect, as his aggressive
treatment of Katie makes clear, but his relationship with others is always courteous and
affable.  Katie reminds him of his past, of what might have been, and he is bitter for this
reason.  She is also wealthy and established in life, while he is forced by circumstances to
emigrate.
The emigration theme was a popular one in Irish literature before Friel returned to it again
in Philadelphia, Here I Come!  He gives this theme tremendous emotional interest.  Gar’s
reasons for emigrating have only partly to do with financial matters.  When he speaks of
money or affluence his words are hollow.  So too are his numerous references to ‘the
American women’.  Somehow, the image of Gar as a wealthy paramour – ‘as American as the
Americans themselves’ – does not seem to fit his character as it is presented to us in the
play.  His outward statements and behaviour are often belied by his inward feelings.  In his
aggressive conversation with Katie, for example, he utters the following words: ‘All this bloody
yap about father and son and all this sentimental rubbish about “homeland” and “birthplace” –
yap! Bloody yap!  Impermanence – anonymity – that’s what I’m looking for; a vast restless
place that doesn’t give a damn about the past’ (p. 81).
Gar’s words here are in complete contrast to his own personal outlook in the play.  On this
statement, he is actually describing the things he cares about most, while apparently rejecting
them.  If we look at individual items in Gar’s statement we see how this is true.  This ‘bloody
yap about father and son’: yet he spends the greater part of the play trying to communicate
with S.B., and his childhood memories of his father are all precious ones.  Gar says he wants
a place ‘that doesn’t give a damn about the past’: yet in the play, we see that the past is still
very much alive for him and he carefully reconsiders it at different moments.  He rejects
‘homeland’ and ‘birthplace’ as meaningless sentimental words: yet he listens attentively to
Madge’s account of his own birth, and on one occasion he gives a poignant description of
Ballybeg, ‘watching the lights go out over the village…’ (p. 78).  Similarly, Gar’s quest for
‘impermanence’ and ‘anonymity’ (Master Boyle’s words) is totally belied by his character in
the play.  What he wants, in fact, is the exact opposite to these words: a permanent home, an
individual identity, to be wanted and cared for.  In particular,  he needs to feel that he is his
father’s son.

We get an interesting glimpse of Gar’s need for affection in the ‘returned emigrants’ scene in
Episode Two.  Outwardly Gar rejects these people.  They are wealthy, vulgar and loud.  But
what he responds to is their offer of affection, in particular, Lizzie’s gushing exuberant words:
‘My son, Gar, Gar, Gar….’ (p. 64).  Private points to this occasion as the real beginning of
Gar’s wish to emigrate: ‘and this was your mother’s sister, remember.  And that’s how you
were got!’  But we also feel that Lizzie Sweeney will be a poor substitute for the affection that
Gar needs.  While S.B. shows too little emotion, Lizzie shows too much, and both are
disconcerting to Gar.  He is put off by her mawkish kisses and her constant groping and
touching.  Her physical appearance is also slightly repulsive to him.  She is small, overweight,
and heavily made-up.  She is also slightly tipsy and incoherent.  Yet her display of affection
for Gar is better than no affection at all and he accepts (though with certain reservations) her
invitation to go to America.

His decision, however, is not irreversible.  One feels that if S.B. responded to Gar’s tentative
efforts at communicating, the latter would reverse his decision, and the play would end
differently.  As it is, however, the play avoids this happy resolution.  There is no easy
reconciliation between father and son.  Gar, the play’s hero and victim, remains in a state of
confusion to the end. Public, Private and S.B. take up the greatest part of the play.  All the
important focus is centred on them, and other characters, by contrast, are less significant. 
Madge occupies a position between the major characters on the one hand (Public, Private,
S.B.) and the minor ones on the other hand (Canon, Master, ‘the boys’).  In Madge, Friel
presents a portrait of a typical good-natured housekeeper.  She is hard-working, sometimes
surly and often taken for granted.  She is also given her own distinctive voice.  Her
characteristic manner of expression is through short, curt, orders.  We notice this on her first
entrance in the play (‘Gar!  Your tea!…..Ah! will you leave me alone….Let me get on with my
work!’).  She is constantly organising the male characters, fussing over them, yet often
reprimanding them with sharp remarks.  Canon O’Byrne is obviously impressed with Madge’s
witty comments (‘She’s a sharp one, Madge’).  Her function in the play is to be much more
than a simple housekeeper, preparing meals, and the like.  She is also an independent voice;
she stands back and assesses the principal statements and actions.  Often when the male
characters are getting carried away in their conversations (as, for example, the rather loud
conversation between Gar and ‘the boys’), Madge’s presence serves to dampen their
enthusiasm slightly with her short, sarcastic interjections.  On other occasions, her statements
point to even larger issues in the play.  In Episode One, for example, as Gar and his father sit
together in total silence, Madge enters and says with cutting irony: ‘A body wouldn’t get a
word in edgeways with you two’.

Madge is gruff and somewhat domineering but there is also a delicately human side to her. 
She has an obvious affection for Gar, while he, is kind and gentle with her.  He confides in
her, asks her questions about the past, particularly about his mother.  She is obviously
saddened by Gar’s decision to leave for Philadelphia, but she puts a brave face on it and
keeps her feelings hidden.  Close attention to the play shows how Friel balances Madge’s
roughness with her more gentle characteristics.  Apart from her conversations with Gar, there
are two other occasions in the play where we get a glimpse of the human side of Madge.  In
Episode Two, after the second entrance of S.B. in the play, Madge watches his predictable
movements with indifference.  Then suddenly, ‘on the point of tears’, she accuses him: ‘You
sit there night after night, year after year reading that oul paper and not a tooth in your head! 
If you had any decency in you at all you would keep them plates in while there’s a lady in your
presence’ (p. 67).  This outburst comes as a surprise to S.B. and to the audience also.  S.B.
looks on Madge in simple, functional terms.  She is his housekeeper and nothing more.  But
Madge articulates the need for recognition and human contact, which the play presents so
forcefully, here.  Even she has a human side to her that needs to be recognised.

The second occasion in the play when we see Madge in a similar light is in Episode One
when she announces to Gar ‘with shy delight’ that her niece Nelly ‘had a baby this morning…
and they’re going to call this one Madge’ (p. 37).  She is obviously elated at this simple
gesture of recognition.  But later in the play, her happiness turns to disappointment.  In
Episode Three she returns from her visit to Nelly’s.  She is very weary and upset.  Even S.B.,
who is generally not sensitive to other people’s feelings, senses that something is the matter. 
‘There’s nothing wrong is there?’ he asks.  Hesitantly Madge tells him, ‘They’re going to call it
Brigid’.  There are many occasions in the play where Friel is a master of understatement, and
this is certainly one of them.  He does not exaggerate Madge’s disappointment here.  But by
giving it a quick fleeting mention he nevertheless draws attention to it in quite an important
way.  Even gruff ageing housekeepers like Madge, he suggests, are subject to human
emotions also.