「Ah!but,」myreadermaysay,「theweakerplayerwantstoreceivepointsinorderthathemaygivethestrongeroneabettergame.」Really,Idonotbelievethatthatisso.Possible,sometimes,astrongandvaingloriousplayermaywishtogivepoints,inorderthathisvictorymaybethemorenotable.ButIdonotthinkthateventhisisthetrueexplanation.That,Isuspect,wasgiventometheotherdaybythesecretaryofalawn-tennistournament,inwhichIplayed.「Whyallthisnonsenseofhandicaps?Whynotletusbesquarelybeaten,anddonewithit?」Iaskedhim.「Because,」Hereplied,「ifwedidnotgivehandicaps,noneofthelessgoodplayerswouldenter.」Isthatnotaconfessionthatthemajorityofushavebothrealizedthetruevaluedoingatrivialthingbadly,foritsownsake,andmustneedshaveourmindsbuoyedandcheatedintoafalsesenseofexcellence?
Moreoveritisnotonlysuchintrinsicallytrivialthingsasgamesthatareworthdoingbadly.Thisisatruthwhich,oddlyenough,weacceptfreelyofsomethings—butnotofothers—andasathingwhichwearequitecontenttodowillletmeinstanceacting.Acting,atitsbest,canbeagreatart,athingworthdoingsupremelywell,thoughitsworth,likethatofallinterpretativearts,islessenedbyitsevanescence.Foritworksintheimpermanentmediumofhumanfleshandblood,andthethingthattheactorcreate—forwhatwecallaninterpretativeartistisreallyacreativeartistworkinginaperishablemedium—isanimpressionupon,anemotionorathoughtarousedin,themindsofanaudience,andisincapableofrecord.
Acting,then,letmepostulate—thoughIhaveonlysketchedeversobrieflytheproofofmybelief—canbeagreatart.Butisanyoneeverdeterredfromtakingpartinamateurtheatricalsbytheconsiderationthathecannotactwell?Notabitofit!Andquiterightlynot,foractingisoneofthethingsaboutwhichIamwritingthisessay—thethingsthatareworthdoingbadly.
Anothersuchthingismusic;butheretheproverbialfallacyagainexertsitspower,asitdoesnot,forsomeobscureandunreasoningdiscrimination,inacting.Mostpeopleseemtothinkthatiftheycannotsing,orplaythepiano,fiddle,orsackbut,admirablywell,theymustnotdoanyofthesethingsatall.Thattheyshouldnotindiscriminatelyforcetheirinferiorperformancesuponthepublic,orevenupontheiracquaintances,Iadmit.Butthatthereisnoplace「inthehome」forinferiormusicalperformances,isanuntruththatIflatlydeny.
Howmanysonsanddaughtershavenot,withaverysmalltalent,giventheirparents—andeventhelessfondlyprejudicedearsoftheirfriends—greatpleasurewiththesingingofsimplesongs?Thenonedaytherecomestothesingertheserpentofdissatisfaction;singinglessonsaretaken,and—ifthepupilisofmoderatetalentandmodestdisposition—limitationsarediscovered.Andthen,inninecasesoutoften,thesingingisdropped,likeahotpenny.Howmanyfathershavenotbanishedmusicfromtheirhomesbyencouragingtheirdaughterstotakesinginglessons?Yetahomemaybethefresherforsingingthatwoulddeservebrickbatsataparishconcert.
Imaypauseheretonoticethecuriousexceptionthatpeoplewhocannotonanyaccountbepersuadedtosinginthedrawing-room,oreveninthebath,willwithouthesitationuplifttheirtunelessvoicesatreligiousmeetingsorinchurch.Thereisaperfectlygoodandhonorableexplanationofthis,Ibelieve,butitbelongstotherealmofmetaphysicsandisbeyondmypresentscope.
Thiscursedbelief,thatifathingisworthdoingatall,itisworthdoingwell,isthecauseofagreatimpoverishmentinourprivatelife,andalso,tosomeextent,oftheloweringofstandardsinourpubliclife.Forthistenetofproverbialfaithhastwoeffectsonsmalltalents:itleadsmodestpersonsnottoexercisethematall,andimmodestpersonstoattempttodosotoomuchandtoforcethemselvesuponthepublic.Itleadstothedecayofletter-writingandofthekeepingofdiaries,and,assurely,itleadstothepublicationofmemoirsanddiariesthatshouldremainlockedinthewriters』desks.
ItleadsMr.Blanknottowriteversesatall—whichhemightverywelldo,forthesakeofhisownhappiness,andfortheamusementofhisfriends—anditleadsMissDashtopestertheoverworkededitorsofvariousjournalswithherunsuccessfulimitationsofMr.delaMare,Mr.Yeats,andDr.Bridges.Theresultisthatournationalartisticlifenowsuffersfromtwogreatneeds:Awideramateurpracticeofthearts,andahigher,moreexclusive,professionalstandard.Untiltheseareachievedweshallnotgetthebestoutofoursouls.