“I don’t want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic! I try to give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don’t tell the truth, I tell what ought to be the truth. And if that’s sinful, then let me be damned for it!”
— Tennessee Williams (A Streetcar Named Desire)
The spirit of drama has often travelled beyond the theatrical domain to establish itself as an important, even if somewhat underrated, form of literature. However, the ability of plays to transcend their purely literary boundaries to entertain, and simultaneously enervate, the ultimate audience only adds to the distinctiveness of the genre without detracting from it, in any form.
Apart from being a widely consumed form of entertainment, plays have always been pivotal in altering the fabric of society. Greek figures have left their indelible mark upon the genre by influencing its form, length and themes. Modern-day works of literature or those related to the performing arts are peppered with references to Aeschylus, Euripedes or the most well-known among them—Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, the masterpiece that birthed the concept of the Oedipus complex.
Modern theatre is a realm that lies largely undiscovered despite the variety and depth of content that it has to offer. If Oscar Wilde’s The Importance Of Being Earnest offers a humorous albeit slightly cynical outlook to the reader, it can be complemented with George Bernard Shaw’s piercing wit and light-hearted setting in Village Wooing. Rattigan’s The Browning Version presents a fading picture of a retiring schoolmaster afraid of becoming obsolete with great alacrity and surprising charm. J. M. Barrie, best remembered as the creator of Peter Pan, often traversed into different territories with one of the most notable of these crossovers being a twist on the classic whodunit, Shall We Call The Ladies?
The demarcation between what fiction encompasses and what it doesn’t tends to be slightly fuzzy and the inclusion of theatre as a realm of fiction is debatable. However, akin to any other form of literature, the creative employment of various gimmicks in plays allows for just as much to be left to the interpretation of the audience as with the reader. A prime example would be Ayn Rand’s The Night Of January 16th, otherwise known as Penthouse Legend. An early product of Rand’s writing career, and hence relatively untainted by the associated brand of unfounded yet utterly confident sloganeering, the entire performance plays out as a courtroom drama.
What sets it apart is that the jury for the case is picked out from the audience at the beginning the play. Based on the verdict of the jury, the actors played out a suitable ending. This element of intrigue, the sense of complete immersion into the story and of being able to affect the the final destination of the tale is inalienable to drama, owing to its close engagement with the audience while being equally fundamental to fiction’s inherent ability to transport the reader to the side of the protagonist.