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A review by deathbedxcv
Three Plays: Juno and the Paycock / The Shadow of a Gunman / The Plow and the Stars by Seán O'Casey
4.0
‘Three Plays’ by dramatist and socialist Seán O’Casey includes; ‘Juno and the Paycock,’ ‘The Shadow of a Gunman,” and ‘The Plough and the Stars’. All of these plays feature 1910s Dublin working class. For this reason they are also considered O’Casey’s ‘Dublin Trilogy’.
* “I’m telling you for the last three weeks I haven’t tasted a dhrop of intoxicatin’ liquor. I wasn’t in ayther wan snug or dh’other—I could swear that on a prayer-book—I’m as innocent as the child unborn!” (Juno and the Paycock, pg. 14)
The first play, ‘Juno and the Paycock’, is the classic “What would happen if a poor family was awarded a large sum of money, more than they’ve ever had?” scenario—with the Irish Civil War as the backdrop and silent, but extremely active character. What I love about this play, and there’s a lot, is its language. How the characters talk to each other. How you can hear their accents in every word. I especially love the banter between Captain Jack Boyle and Juno Boyle—the classic married couple. Basically what happens is that a relative of Captain Boyle dies and leaves him with a huge amount of money in a Will, the Boyle family buys so many unnecessary things, and then all hell breaks loose. There’s more to it than that but I don’t want to give too much away. Like I said before, the dialogue is amazing.
* “And what danger can there be in being the shadow of a gunman?”
The second play in O’Casey’s Dublin Trilogy, ‘The Shadow of A Gunman’, is a really sad one about a silly rumor—a play that could have ended happily in the first act if only honesty were a thing. But this ain’t no happy ever after; this is the Irish Civil fucking War and everything, even the sun, is a tragedy. I believe that O’Casey perfectly summarizes the relationship between his two mains, Donal Davoren and Seumas Shields, in the following sentence; “The aspect of the place is one of absolute untidiness, engendered on the one hand by the congenital slovenliness of Seumas Shields, and on the other by the temperament of Donal Davoren, making it appear impossible to effect an improvement in such a place.” They argue about religion, sacrifice, poetry, and love. RIP to a real one.
* “Ireland is greater than a mother […] Ireland is greater than a wife.”
The third play, ‘The Plough and the stars’, feels like the more comunal or community based of the three, which I believe makes it the most tragic. This four act play has multiple characters, many of which argue with each other. The Young Covey argues with Peter Flynn about socialism, and urges everyone to read Jenersky’s ‘Thesis on the origin, development, and consolidation of the evolutionary idea of the proletariat’. Bessie Burgess literally argues with fuckking everyone. And this all takes place during the Easter Rising of 1916. Here’s another sentence that I like:
“We’ll have to be brave, an’ let patience clip away th’ heaviness of the slow-movin’ hours, rememberin’ that sorrow may endure for th’ night, but joy cometh in th’ mornin’…Come on in, an’ I’ll sing to you, an’ you’ll rest quietly.”
* “I’m telling you for the last three weeks I haven’t tasted a dhrop of intoxicatin’ liquor. I wasn’t in ayther wan snug or dh’other—I could swear that on a prayer-book—I’m as innocent as the child unborn!” (Juno and the Paycock, pg. 14)
The first play, ‘Juno and the Paycock’, is the classic “What would happen if a poor family was awarded a large sum of money, more than they’ve ever had?” scenario—with the Irish Civil War as the backdrop and silent, but extremely active character. What I love about this play, and there’s a lot, is its language. How the characters talk to each other. How you can hear their accents in every word. I especially love the banter between Captain Jack Boyle and Juno Boyle—the classic married couple. Basically what happens is that a relative of Captain Boyle dies and leaves him with a huge amount of money in a Will, the Boyle family buys so many unnecessary things, and then all hell breaks loose. There’s more to it than that but I don’t want to give too much away. Like I said before, the dialogue is amazing.
* “And what danger can there be in being the shadow of a gunman?”
The second play in O’Casey’s Dublin Trilogy, ‘The Shadow of A Gunman’, is a really sad one about a silly rumor—a play that could have ended happily in the first act if only honesty were a thing. But this ain’t no happy ever after; this is the Irish Civil fucking War and everything, even the sun, is a tragedy. I believe that O’Casey perfectly summarizes the relationship between his two mains, Donal Davoren and Seumas Shields, in the following sentence; “The aspect of the place is one of absolute untidiness, engendered on the one hand by the congenital slovenliness of Seumas Shields, and on the other by the temperament of Donal Davoren, making it appear impossible to effect an improvement in such a place.” They argue about religion, sacrifice, poetry, and love. RIP to a real one.
* “Ireland is greater than a mother […] Ireland is greater than a wife.”
The third play, ‘The Plough and the stars’, feels like the more comunal or community based of the three, which I believe makes it the most tragic. This four act play has multiple characters, many of which argue with each other. The Young Covey argues with Peter Flynn about socialism, and urges everyone to read Jenersky’s ‘Thesis on the origin, development, and consolidation of the evolutionary idea of the proletariat’. Bessie Burgess literally argues with fuckking everyone. And this all takes place during the Easter Rising of 1916. Here’s another sentence that I like:
“We’ll have to be brave, an’ let patience clip away th’ heaviness of the slow-movin’ hours, rememberin’ that sorrow may endure for th’ night, but joy cometh in th’ mornin’…Come on in, an’ I’ll sing to you, an’ you’ll rest quietly.”