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letra de "the theater" (viii) - stephen crane

evenings during the week he took her to see plays in which the brain-clutching heroine was rescued from the palatial home of her guardian, who is cruelly after her bonds, by the hero with the beautiful sentiments. the latter spent most of his time out at soak in pale-green snow storms, busy with a nickel-plated revolver, rescuing aged strangers from villains

maggie lost herself in sympathy with the wanderers swooning in snow storms beneath happy-hued church windows. and a choir within singing “joy to the world.” to maggie and the rest of the audience this was transcendental realism. joy always within, and they, like the actor, inevitably without. viewing it, they hugged themselves in ecstatic pity of their imagined or real condition

the girl thought the arrogance and granite-heartedness of the magnate of the play was very accurately drawn. she echoed the maledictions that the occupants of the gallery showered on this individual when his lines compelled him to expose his extreme selfishness

shady persons in the audience revolted from the pictured villainy of the drama. with untiring zeal they hissed vice and applauded virtue. unmistakably bad men evinced an apparently sincere admiration for virtue

the loud gallery was overwhelmingly with the unfortunate and the oppressed. they encouraged the struggling hero with cries, and jeered the villain, hooting and calling attention to his whiskers. when anybody died in the pale-green snow storms, the gallery mourned. they sought out the painted misery and hugged it as akin

in the hero’s erratic march from poverty in the first act, to wealth and triumph in the final one, in which he forgives all the enemies that he has left, he was -ssisted by the gallery, which applauded his generous and n0ble sentiments and confounded the speeches of his opponents by making irrelevant but very sharp remarks. those actors who were cursed with villainy parts were confronted at every turn by the gallery. if one of them rendered lines containing the most subtile distinctions between right and wrong, the gallery was immediately aware if the actor meant wickedness, and denounced him accordingly

the last act was a triumph for the hero, poor and of the m-sses, the representative of the audience, over the villain and the rich man, his pockets stuffed with bonds, his heart packed with tyrannical purposes, imperturbable amid suffering

maggie always departed with raised spirits from the showing places of the melodrama. she rejoiced at the way in which the poor and virtuous eventually surmounted the wealthy and wicked. the theatre made her think. she wondered if the culture and refinement she had seen imitated, perhaps grotesquely, by the heroine on the stage, could be acquired by a girl who lived in a tenement house and worked in a shirt factory

- stephen crane

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