Following the death of her father, Ann Whitefield becomes the ward of Jack Tanner and Roebuck Ramsden; Jack is a childhood friend, author of The Revolutionist’s Handbook, and descendant of Don Juan, while Roebuck Ramsden is a respectable friend of her father’s entirely opposed to Jack’s philosophy. Also in mourning are Octavius Robinson, who is openly in love with Ann, and his sister Violet, who is secretly pregnant. So begins a journey that will take them across London, Europe, and to Hell.
George Bernard Shaw wrote Man and Superman between 1901 and 1903. It was first performed in 1905 with the third act excised; a part of that third act, Don Juan in Hell, was performed in 1907. The full play was not performed in its entirety until 1915.
Shaw explains that he wrote Man and Superman after being challenged to write on the theme of Don Juan. Once described as Shaw’s most allusive play, Man and Superman refers to Nietzsche’s concept of the Übermensch. It combines Nietzsche’s argument that humanity is evolving towards a “superman” with the philosophy of Don Juan as a way to present his conception of society: namely, that it is women who are the driving force behind natural selection and the propagation of the species. To this end, Shaw includes as an appendix The Revolutionist’s Handbook and Pocket Companion as written by the character Jack Tanner.
for me until thou diest, when I will make another brain and another philosopher to carry on the work.”
The Devil
What is the use of knowing?
Don Juan
Why, to be able to choose the line of greatest advantage instead of yielding in the direction of the least resistance. Does a ship sail to its destination no better than a log drifts nowhither? The philosopher is Nature’s pilot. And there you have our difference: to be in Hell is to drift: to be in Heaven is to steer.
The Devil
On the rocks, most likely.
Don Juan
Pooh! Which ship goes oftenest on the rocks or to the bottom—the drifting ship or the ship with a pilot on board?
The Devil
Well, well, go your way, Señor Don Juan. I prefer to be my own master and not the tool of any blundering universal force. I know that beauty is good to look at; that music is good to hear; that love is good to feel; and that they are all good to think about and talk about. I know that to be well exercised in these sensations, emotions, and studies is to be a refined and cultivated being. Whatever they may say of me in churches on Earth, I know that it is universally admitted in good society that the Prince of Darkness is a gentleman; and that is enough for me. As to your life force, which you think irresistible, it is the most resistible thing in the world for a person of any character. But if you are naturally vulgar and credulous, as all reformers are, it will thrust you first into religion, where you will sprinkle water on babies to save their souls from me; then it will drive you from religion into science, where you will snatch the babies from the water sprinkling and inoculate them with disease to save them from catching it accidentally; then you will take to politics, where you will become the catspaw of corrupt functionaries and the henchman of ambitious humbugs; and the end will be despair and decrepitude, broken nerve and shattered hopes, vain regrets for that worst and silliest of wastes and sacrifices, the waste and sacrifice of the power of enjoyment: in a word, the punishment of the fool who pursues the better before he has secured the good.
Don Juan
But at least I shall not be bored. The service of the life force has that advantage, at all events. So fare you well, Señor Satan.
The Devil
Amiably. Fare you well, Don Juan. I shall often think of our interesting chats about things in general. I wish you every happiness: Heaven, as I said before, suits some people. But if you should change your mind, do not forget that the gates are always open here to the repentant prodigal. If you feel at any time that warmth of heart, sincere unforced affection, innocent enjoyment, and warm, breathing, palpitating reality—
Don Juan
Why not say flesh and blood at once, though we have left those two greasy commonplaces behind us?
The Devil
Angrily. You throw my friendly farewell back in my teeth, then, Don Juan?
Don Juan
By no means. But though there is much to be learnt from a cynical devil, I really cannot stand a sentimental one. Señor Commander: you know the way to the frontier of Hell and Heaven. Be good enough to direct me.
The Statue
Oh, the frontier is only the difference between two ways of looking at things. Any road will take you across it if you really want to get there.
Don Juan
Good. Saluting Doña Ana. Señora: your servant.
Ana
But I am going with you.
Don Juan
I can find my own way to Heaven, Ana; but I cannot find yours He vanishes.
Ana
How annoying!
The Statue
Calling after him. Bon voyage, Juan! He wafts a final blast of his great rolling chords after him as a parting salute. A faint echo of the first ghostly melody comes back in acknowledgment. Ah! There he goes. Puffing a long breath out through his lips. Whew! How he does talk! They’ll never stand it in Heaven.
The Devil
Gloomily. His going is a political defeat. I cannot keep these life worshippers: they all go. This is the greatest loss I have had since that Dutch painter went—a fellow who would paint a hag of 70 with as much enjoyment as a Venus of 20.
The Statue
I remember: he came to Heaven. Rembrandt.
The Devil
Aye, Rembrandt. There a something unnatural about these fellows. Do not listen to their gospel, Señor Commander: it is dangerous. Beware of the pursuit of the Superhuman: it leads to an indiscriminate contempt for the Human. To a man, horses and dogs and cats are mere species, outside the moral world. Well, to the Superman, men and women are a mere species too, also outside the moral world. This Don Juan was kind to women and courteous to men as your daughter here was kind to her pet cats and dogs; but such kindness is a denial of the exclusively human character of the soul.
The Statue
And who the deuce is the Superman?
The Devil
Oh, the latest fashion among the life force fanatics. Did you not meet in Heaven, among the new arrivals, that German Polish madman—what was his name? Nietzsche?
The Statue
Never heard of him.
The Devil
Well, he came here first, before he recovered his wits. I had some hopes of him; but he was a confirmed life force worshipper. It was he who raked up the Superman, who is as old as Prometheus; and the 20th century will run after this newest of the old crazes when it gets tired of the world, the flesh, and your humble servant.
The Statue
Superman is a good cry; and a good cry is half the battle. I should like to see this Nietzsche.
The Devil
Unfortunately he met Wagner here, and had a quarrel with him.
The Statue
Quite right, too. Mozart for me!
The
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