I think I'm missing the point

Major Barbara - (George) Bernard Shaw (Penguin Books, 1913, 1951)

I am pretty sure I'm exactly the kind of fan GBS would not have wanted. I swoon over the witty dialogue and fast pace and the sort of ineffable charm that his plays possess. I also manage to read them as sort of skewed romantic comedies, or I least I did with Arms and the Man, which I am now once more desperate to see staged.

But if you read the plays and slog through the author's prefaces, you'll see what is so easily glossed over by the audience, which is that GBS is trying to make rather biting commentary about society and capitalism and the class structure and morality and and and. It's all rather exhausting.

When I'm feeling particularly bright, I like to think that it's the way that he packages the two things together - the comedy of manners and the sharp critique of someone who would enjoy such a thing (namely me) - that is what I admire in his work. But I fear that might be painting too rosy a picture.

Whatever. George Bernard Shaw knew exactly the kind of audience he was reaching, and I'm going to try not to feel guilty about liking the "wrong" things about his plays.

Oh, which reminds me that maybe I should tell you about Major Barbara. Said Major is a wealthy young lady who has joined the Salvation Army. Her estranged father is an arms manufacturer, her mother an aristocrat. Her mother calls her father back to town because the family needs more money - one daughter is marrying a doofus who won't come into money for a few more years, Barbara is doing her Salvation Army thing and marrying a (rather upwardly mobile, it turns out) Greek professor, and the son is fairly worthless as well. And what ensues is much banter, including a scene at the Army site, which involves dialogue with an accent so thick I had to read aloud to figure out what was being said. And in the end, well I suppose everyone is made to look the hypocrite. And it was delightful.