Lisa Napell Dicksteen
May 19,
2005
Why Can’t the English Learn to Speak?:
From page to stage to screen with George
Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion
There are so many
wonderful things to do with this story I hardly know where to begin, so, I’ve
made a little list:
- Apparently Shaw took his title (and I imagine some of
the character of Henry Higgins himself) from the Greek legend of the
misogynist sculptor who falls in love with his sculpture of a woman. This
being a Greek myth, he prays to Aphrodite who brings his sculpture to
life; he is thrilled, and names her Galatea. Henry’s view of women could
charitably be called unimpressed, early on he says “I find that the moment
I let a woman make friends with me, she becomes jealous, exacting,
suspicious, and a damned nuisance.” (The deconstruction of this single
sentence could easily fill most of an afternoon – what does he mean “let a
woman make friends with me”?)
- Unlike the myth, Eliza Doolittle becomes an
independent person with a mind of her own in all modern versions of the
story. In the film and musical comedy versions of course, a romance
blossoms between them that Shaw never intended or alluded to in his
original text. This could lead to a study of the way things change when Hollywood and/or
Broadway interfere and a discussion of which ending seems more “true” to
the characters as they have been created.
- Henry’s lament, “Why Can’t A Woman Be More Like A Man?”
might be paired nicely with “Adelaide’s Lament” from Guys and Dolls and/or “There Ain’t Nothin’ Like a Dame” from South Pacific in order to begin a rousing discussion of the
different expectations put upon the different genders by society in
different times – and how they have (or have not) changed since these
songs were first sung.
- Closely related to this theme are Henry’s
protestations regarding the damage done to men who have allowed women into
their lives. In the musical version, he sings “An
Ordinary Man,” and I think it worthwhile to have students consider what
type of a social-construct, what sort of position women are in generally,
in a world described this way:
…let a woman in your life and your serenity
is through
She'll redecorate your home, from the cellar to the dome
Then go to the enthralling fun of overhauling you
Let a woman in your life, and you're up against a wall,
Make a plan and you will find, she has something else in mind,
And so rather than do either you do something else that neither likes at all.
- And, leaning toward a more psychoanalytical type of
lens, what kind of guy is Henry anyway? He’s not gay (he and Eliza do fall
in love in the end – at least in the movie and musical comedy versions),
but he is very closely tied to his widowed mother, no father figure in
sight, a little self-involved, and maybe a little OCD. What makes someone
grow up to feel this way about women? Students can make up heartbreaking
stories of past loves lost. They can deconstruct the text to prove that he
is gay after all and really wants to be with Pickering. They can consider his
relationship with his mother through Freudian, Oedipal, and other
psychiatric lenses – as long as they can find something to back up their
theories in the text.
- Very early in every version of this story Henry meets
Eliza Doolittle and pronounces judgment upon what he considers her abuse
of the English language, saying, in part, to the girl he has reduced to
frustrated tears, “A woman who utters such disgusting and depressing noise
has no right to be anywhere, no right to live. Remember that you are a
human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech, that
your native language is the language of Shakespeare and Milton and The
Bible. Don't sit there crooning like a bilious pigeon.”
This scene,
coupled with the text from the song that follows this exchange in the musical comedy
and the movie, could lead to a great discussion of dialects, including BVE, and
why some people will always consider “their” dialect superior to all others. Henry
wonders,
Why can't the English teach their children
how to speak?
Norwegians learn Norwegian, the Greeks are taught their Greek
In France
every Frenchman knows his language from 'A' to 'Zed' -
The French don't care what they do, actually, as long as they pronounce it
properly.
Arabians learn Arabian with the speed of summer lightning.
The Hebrews learn it backwards which is absolutely
frightening.
Use proper English, you're regarded as a freak.
Oh, why can't the English -
Why can't the English learn to speak?
- The previous text can also be used to generate
discussion regarding a more Marxist interpretation, and a closer consideration
of the power behind being the class that makes the decisions about who’s
English is the “best” English, and the lack of power in being everyone
else. This is something that has not gone away, even in America,
and is most likely something students will be able to sink their teeth
into.
- The approaches and examples in numbers five and six
could also be used to begin a serious discussion of code switching – which
is one of the underlying texts of the entire story. Eliza moves from the
gutter into the palace simply by learning the lingo, and she never gives
up her personality, her “home culture,” her integrity, or her sense of
self – it’s a great example of the reasons for learning to speak and write
like “the man” in addition to the way one’s friends communicate, and how
it can be done like putting on a different suit of clothes – you’re still
you inside the suit. This would be interesting to students as at this age
they themselves are trying on different personas and figuring out who
their “true” selves are.
- There are wonderful paeans to the beauty of the
English language throughout the text, as when Higgins tries to encourage
the disheartened and frustrated Eliza as she struggles to master the
pronunciation of the “royal tongue.” Think what you're trying to
accomplish,” he tells her. “Just think what you're dealing with. The
majesty and grandeur of the English language. It's the greatest possession
we have. The noblest thoughts that ever flowed through the hearts of men
are contained in its extraordinary, imaginative, and musical mixtures of
sounds. And that's what you've set yourself out to conquer Eliza, and
conquer it you will.”
This might make a
good do-now. Post this quote on the board and have students take a position vis a vis
language as a person’s greatest possession when they first enter the room. A
rigorous debate should follow.
- The scene at the races, added to the performed versions
of the text very early in the transformation from page to stage as a more
dramatic version of the drawing-room visit, will make young readers and
viewers think immediately of the modern-day homage in “Pretty Woman.” And
isn’t that just an updated version of “My Fair Lady”? A comparison between
the two might yield some interesting discussion.
- Of course
there are parallels to Cinderella, which might lead to a modernization of
that famous fable. How would it come off today? What would be different,
what remain the same? (I would attempt to exclude all references to
“Pretty Woman” in this portion of the discussion.)
- Another aspect of the scene at the races and in the
parlor is the reaction of the “genteel classes” to Eliza’s less-than-delicate
talk – including the famous moment when she encourages a slow colt to
“move yer bloomin’ arse!” Had they not thought of her as their equal
(which they do, based on the fact that Henry’s mother introduces her as a
member of their society, she is impeccably dressed, and well spoken) they
never would have talked to her at all. Connecting this to the way these
same women treated her when she was what Henry called “a guttersnipe” not
six months previously, will give the students another chance to consider
snap judgments, judging the proverbial book by its cover, first
impressions, and how much more latitude the wealthy are given as a matter
of course.
- Just before
the big unveiling, Henry tells Pickering
what he thinks he’s doing with/to/for Eliza, “take[ing]
a human being and change[ing] her into a
different human being by creating a new speech for her? It's filling up
the deepest gap that separates class from class and soul from soul.” There
is a lot for the deconstructionist and the Marxist to pull out of those
two sentences.
- Returning to
the issue of class, there is the wonderful exchange between Eliza and
Henry after the success of “his” experiment in which she bemoans the fact
(as his mother predicted would happen) that now she can’t go back to the
gutter, but neither has she anywhere else to land. She sees things much
more realistically than the coddled, spoiled, absent-minded professor.
Eliza:
What am I fit for? What have you left me fit for? Where am I to go? What am I
to do and what's to become of me?
Higgins: Oh, that's what's worrying you, is it? Oh, I wouldn't worry
about that if I were you. I'm sure you won't have any difficulty in settling
yourself somewhere or other. I hadn't quite realized you were going away. You
might marry, you know. You see, Eliza, all men are not confirmed old bachelors
like me and the Colonel. Most men are the marrying sort - poor devils! Anyway,
you're not bad-looking. You're really quite a pleasure to look at sometimes.
Well, not now, of course, when you've been crying, you look like the very
devil. But I mean, when you're all right and quite yourself, you're what I
would call attractive...I daresay my mother might find some fellow or other
who'd do very well.
Eliza: We were above that at Covent Garden.
Higgins: What do you mean?
Eliza: I sold flowers. I didn't sell myself. Now you've made a lady of
me, I'm not fit to sell anything else.
Students might
engage in a debate about this conversation – is marriage a form of
prostitution, do women use their bodies to get financial security, did it
happen more then than it does today – what differences do they see, what
similarities? What options might Eliza have today that she doesn’t have in the
time-place-milieu in which the story is set? If they wrote the story today (not
as was already done in “Pretty Woman”) how would they end it? Go back to the
text or go for the Hollywood romance? Have her
take her new finery and a bunch of money from Henry and go start her own
language school, or flower shop, or modeling agency? Have her marry Freddy –
and what would that be like? Have her marry Henry AND start her own business?
(The first question in this segment would have to either arise naturally from
the students’ discussion or be generated very carefully, and probably should be
saved for 11th or 12th graders who are more likely to be able to discuss it.)
The possibilities are endless… and
that’s before I have any input from the students themselves, who are likely to
take off in unforeseen and wonderful directions of their own. I only hope that
in time I become able to discern when to rein them in and when to throw the
lesson plan out the window and run to catch up with them.