The fanatics : $b A comedy in three actsMalleson, Miles
General
The fanatics : $b A comedy in three acts
Malleson, Miles
England -- Drama; Families -- Drama; Man-woman relationships -- Drama; World War, 1914-1918 -- Veterans -- Drama
JOHN: There’s no _will_ to do it, and that’s because there’s no
understanding.... I often think, now, of being in the trenches.
GWEN: Do you?
JOHN: There was a joy in it; at first, anyhow.
GWEN: _You_ say that!
JOHN: Comradeship.
GWEN: The friends you made....
JOHN: No. The strangers on the road, day and night, at the same task;
one’s rest and play only to give one strength for it; a _purpose_ that
gave meaning to every moment.
GWEN: Oh, Jacko, something in me leaps to that.
JOHN: For five years the men under forty worked together, sacrificed
everything they had in life, every hope, prospect, comfort; they
underwent suffering, physical suffering and moral suffering, absolutely
inconceivable to those who stayed at home, so that to give their lives
at the end of it was often a relief ... and they won! By God, Gwen, if
the men over forty with the money and the power would get together and
work _one-twentieth_ as well, and sacrifice _one-hundredth_ of their
personal comfort, what mightn’t they make of the victory--but they
won’t! They won’t, because they see no reason why they should. They’ve
got no _faith_ to make them. They’ve got nothing great to _believe
in_.... To-day, the wisest of men are cynical, and the cleverest are
rich, and none are happy.... There’s no great purpose outside our own
lives to give them harmony and meaning. Ask the ordinary people, in
the streets, and tubes, and ’buses ... what they’re living _for_; they
don’t know.... All the old _duties_--our duty to our parents; to our
country; to God; they’ve been prostituted; they demanded our blood; and
took it; and gave us nothing in return but a dreadful sense of futility
... we’ve got to find something truer to believe in....
GWEN: Can we find something?
JOHN: I believe so.
GWEN: What?
JOHN: ... Why not, just ... our duty to our fellows.... Suppose we all
started in with that as a _Religion_; with half the will we went to
war; a common purpose so deeply felt that everybody was ready to spend
their lives for it, and make any sacrifices that were called for; I’d
be a parson if that was religion, teaching that common purpose--just
to clear up the mess a bit; so that the generation that’s waiting just
outside the doors of existence, should come in and find it a happier
place; it ’ud be a dam’ sight happier place for those in it _now_,
anyhow! and we’d soon do away with any fear of another war; that ’ud be
something.
GWEN: John, do you think there’s a hope?
JOHN: There’s always hope--in the young people.
GWEN: Do you believe that?
JOHN: What other hope is there? There are millions and millions waiting
to be born; they haven’t got all the prejudices and hatreds that cause
the trouble; they get ’em from us; we’ve got to give ’em something
better.
GWEN: And shall we?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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