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by Peter Wylde, directed by Brian Bedford

Stratford Festival, Tom Patterson Theatre, Stratford

June 20-August 29, 2009

"Oscar, Not So Wild"

A fine show to see in tandem with Stratford’s current production of “The Importance of Being Earnest” is “Ever Yours, Oscar”, a selection and compilation of Oscar Wilde’s letters by Peter Wylde read by Brian Bedford, this year’s Lady Bracknell.  The few facts one may know of Wilde’s life, such as his conviction and imprisonment with hard labour, for “gross misconduct” (i.e., homosexual relations) with Lord Alfred Douglas, don’t really give any insight into Wilde as a person.  Wilde consciously wore a mask in public, as one letter states overtly, but it is the mask that most people know.  Peter Wylde’s compilation of letters and telegrams Wilde wrote from age 14 until his death at 46 provides an intriguing glimpse behind the mask.

The intent of Peter Wylde’s compilation, which includes only minimal commentary as to the place, time and circumstance of writing, is to show Wilde as a much more rounded human being than one might gather from his plays or published prose.  The first letter from the 14-year-old Oscar that critiques the fabric and colour of nightclothes his mother has sent him would seem to fit into the general public perception of him.  But a letter written on his famous American tour in 1882 specifies in great detail the kind of jacket and knee-britches he wishes made for his appearance in Chicago.  The reason is that his public in Ohio was visibly disappointed when he did not appear before them in knee-britches.  Thus, it is clear that Wilde regarded his  garb as an aesthetic dandy as a costume, one element of the façade he had constructed for public view.

We hear a love letter to Constance Lloyd, who became Wilde’s wife and bore him two children.  We hear the letter he writes to his son saying how desolate her death has made him.  This is a side of Wilde  few may know.  We hear how much he enjoys his tour to Leadville, Colorado, on his lecture tour.  The miners fall asleep during his talk about Italian painting but he thinks it a more authentic response than that of fawning socialites he meets elsewhere.  The dinner they prepare for him in a mine shaft is wonderful and he revels in the privilege they give him of opening a new tunnel to be named after him.  When he accepts a job working for the ladies‘ magazine “The Women’s World”, it’s it quite remarkable how he wishes to change its focus on fashion to stories on social topics and child-raising that will appeal to a woman’s intelligence.  The audience would have to know plays other than “Earnest” to realize that Wilde thought women were intelligent and deserved equal rights.  It is fascinating to hear Wilde give his first sketch of the plot of the play that would become “Earnest”.

The overall emphasis in the 75-minute show, however, is rather strange.  We move from a letter to Wilde’s Canadian confidant Robert Ross about the scandal that the Marquess of Queensberry, the father of his lover Lord Alfred Douglas, has initiated directly to a picture of Wilde in prison, without a word about the trial.  It could be that Peter Wylde thinks this bit of biography well trodden, but to present nothing at all is peculiar.  The last fourth of the piece dwells to an unusual extent on Wilde’s experiences in prison as and, in particular, on his sympathy for child prisoners, aged fourteen and under, who at the time were placed in the same jail with adults.  The longest letter in the show is one detailing what Wilde feels should be done to better the lot of child prisoners.  They should not be held in solitary confinement.  They should have proper food.  They should have some sort of schooling.  This letter reveals not only the bizarre cruelty Victorian England visited upon children beyond its infamous use of child labor but it also underscore Wilde’s concern for children’s rights.  A further letter, written when Wilde was in exile in France under the assumed name of Sebastian Melmoth, expresses his delight in hosting a party to celebrate Queen Victoria.  Peter Wylde’s general point in including this material seems to be to suggest that homosexuals can enjoy the presence of children in a completely non-sexual way.  It’s useful to point out that homosexuality and pedophilia are not the same thing, but it is odd to have so much of so short a programme dedicated to this topic.

There are other lacunae.  Robert Ross, to whom many of the letters are addressed, is mentioned only as Wilde’s Canadian friend.  No mention is made that Ross, lived as an openly gay man at a time when homosexuality was illegal or that he and Wilde were lovers before Wilde met Lord Alfred.  We also hear none of the letters that Wilde is responding to. 

“Ever Yours, Oscar” is not a play.  There is no set, except for a blown-up photo of Wilde on the back wall, or costumes, and the text is not memorized.  Brian Bedford merely strides up to a podium and literally reads out the stack of transcribed letters before him.  As everyone knows, Bedford is a marvellous reader and it is a pleasure to hear his voice bring life to these letters.  Yet, prices of $89.69-$63.70 are rather steep for such a short evening.  By comparison, a fully-staged, multi-character play by Soulpepper in Toronto costs $68-$50.  Since Bedford’s lectern is placed just at the point where Aisles 2 and 10 would cross the stage, anyone sitting in the category B seats will see only the back of Bedford’s head.  There are 36 cushions on the stage where anyone may sit for $10, but only those who’ve kept up their yoga will wish to do that.

It is a pleasant enough experience that will likely have you running out to buy Richard Ellmann’s Pulitzer Prize-winning 1989 biography of Wilde (only $14.96 on Amazon) to find out the whole story or “Oscar Wilde: A Life in Letters” edited by Wilde’s grandson Merlin Holland (only $6.78 on Amazon).  But, on the whole, the show should be presented free or for a minimal sum like one of the “Platforms” the National Theatre in London gives to provide background to its plays.  Rabid fans of Bedford will not hesitate, but for $89.69 you can find out much more about Wilde elsewhere.     

©Christopher Hoile

Note: This review is a Stage Door exclusive.

Photo: Oscar Wilde. ©Napoleon Sarony, 1882.