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$Unique_ID{MON02279}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Plays of Oscar Wilde
The Importance Of Being Earnest (1895)}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Wilde, Oscar}
$Affiliation{Department Of English, Hunter College}
$Subject{jack
cecily
gwendolen
lady
algernon
bracknell
ernest
miss
prism
does}
$Date{}
$Log{}
Title:       Plays of Oscar Wilde
Book:        Importance of Being Earnest, The
Author:      Wilde, Oscar
Critic:      Schwartz, Grace Horowitz
Affiliation: Department Of English, Hunter College

The Importance Of Being Earnest (1895)

Act I

Summary:

     The scene is Algernon Moncrieff's flat (apartment) in Half-Moon Street,
London. Algernon's perfect servant, Lane, is setting out afternoon tea. The
sound of a piano can be heard from another room. When the music stops,
Algernon enters the room.

     Algernon asks Lane whether he has made cucumber sandwiches for his aunt,
Lady Bracknell. Lane produces the platter of sandwiches, and Algernon takes
two. He continues to eat cucumber sandwiches as the scene progresses. Lane
announces that Mr. Ernest Worthing is calling. Ernest enters; in response to
Algernon's questions, he says that he has been in the country for the past few
days. Casually, Algernon mentions the fact that Ernest's country place is in
the county of Shropshire. Ernest agrees that this is correct.

     Ernest comments on the elaborate tea preparations. Algernon tells him
that his Aunt Augusta(Lady Bracknell) and his cousin Gwendolen are coming to
tea. Ernest is delighted to hear this, for he is clearly much attracted to
Gwendolen. But Algernon does not think his aunt will approve of Ernest's
presence; Ernest is not a desirable suitor for her daughter. Ernest tells
Algernon that he has come to London just to propose to Gwendolen.

     He is about to take a cucumber sandwich when Algernon restrains him.
The cucumber sandwiches are reserved for Aunt Augusta. Indignantly, Ernest
points out that Algernon has been eating them the whole time. Algernon
points out, with questionable logic, that she is his aunt. He urges bread
and butter on Ernest; the bread and butter is meant for Gwendolen.

     Algernon now shows Ernest a cigarette case he left in the flat on a
previous visit. Algernon points out that there is an inscription engraved
on the case which is signed: "Cecily." Who, Algernon asks, is Cecily?
Reluctantly, Ernest replies that Cecily is his aunt. Why then, Algernon
inquires, does she sign herself: "From little Cecily with her fondest love?"
Ernest impatiently answers that she happens to be a small aunt. Adroitly
holding the cigarette case out of Ernest's reach, Algernon asks why his aunt
Cecily addresses the inscription to "her dear Uncle Jack."

     Ernest is forced to explain fully. In the first place, his name is really
Jack, not Ernest. In his country home lives his ward, Cecily Cardew, a very
pretty girl eighteen years of age. As the legal guardian of Cecily, he must
behave in a grave, highly respectable manner. In order to get an occasional
rest from this high moral tone, Jack has invented a younger brother, Ernest,
who lives in London and is constantly getting into trouble. At intervals, Jack
comes up to London to rescue Ernest from another one of his scrapes.

     Algernon asks for Jack's country address, but Jack will not give it to
him. He says triumphantly that it is not in Shropshire. Jack plans to keep
Algernon away from Cecily; Cecily is a rather susceptible young girl. She has
shown some romantic interest in the wicked (though imaginary) Ernest.

     Algy says that Jack is a "Bunburyist." Jack has invented a younger
brother Ernest in order that he may get out of the country and enjoy himself
in London. Algy himself has invented an invalid friend named Bunbury who lives
in the country, in order that he may leave London (and his relatives) and
enjoy himself in the country whenever he wishes.

     Jack expresses his intention of killing off Ernest if he should succeed
in getting engaged to Gwendolen. Algy protests that a man needs a Bunbury more
than ever when he is married. Algy offers to get his aunt out of the way so
that Jack can propose to Gwendolen-if Jack will buy him dinner. He plans to
get out of dining at his Aunt Augusta's house with the help of Bunbury.

     Comment: In this play, Wilde has made a strong and brilliant development
as a dramatist. At one stroke, he has eliminated the second-hand melodrama
which was the mainstay of the earlier plays. The good women and adventuresses
are gone. So are the moral dilemmas and the lessons in human relations. Those
elements of the other plays which remain, such as intrigue, the ancient
secret, the tangled romances, have altered drastically.

     For example, in the scene described above, we have the party scene which
is featured in Lady Windermere's Fan and An Ideal Husband. But it has changed;
the concert in the music room has become Algernon's offstage piano solo,
played "with wonderful expression," though not accurately. The glittering
assemblage has shrunk to one guest, who is soon augmented by two more. The
scene has become smaller, less pretentious, with a new range of possibilities.

     In this first act, the main purpose is what we call "exposition" - the
explanation of who is who and what situation they find themselves in. As in
the other plays, Wilde has some very complicated explanations to make which he
manages with clarity and skill. Here, the situation is not only complex but
totally absurd-it comprises Jack's imaginary friend Bunbury, the susceptible
Cecily, the flirtatious Gwendolen, and the looming figure of Lady Bracknell.
We have been transported to a world where there is much to-do about very
little.

     Further evidence that we are in a peculiar new world is afforded by the
upside-down nature of the conversation. Lane confides to Algernon that he does
not know much about marriage: he has only been married once. He does not think
about it much for it is an uninteresting subject. Algernon comments that if
the lower classes do not set a good moral example, what is the use of them?
The discussion is preposterous but vaguely familiar. We soon realize that we
have heard such remarks before, only we have heard them the other way around.
It is the upper classes whose duty it is supposed to be to set a good moral
example to the lower classes.

     In another place, Jack tells Algernon that once he is married he will
certainly not want anything to do with Bunbury. Algernon replies: "Then your
wife will." He adds that in marriage, three is company and two is none. Again
the expression is familiar, but it is upside down. Normally, two is company
and three is none (or three is a crowd, as we would say). By turning it
around, the author throws a new light on the subject.

Summary:

     Lady Bracknell and Gwendolen arrive. Lady Bracknell greets her nephew but
bestows only a very aloof bow on Jack. Gwendolen, however, sits down in a
corner with Jack. She refuses courteously but firmly to move over next to her
mother.

     Lady Bracknell requests the cucumber sandwiches Algernon has promised
her. Algernon goes to the table and finds only the empty plate - the natural
result of his having eaten all the sandwiches. He expresses shock and
distress. He asks Lane why there are no cucumber sandwiches. That invaluable
servant replies that there were no cucumbers to be had in the market - "not
even for ready money." (This conjures up a wild image of Lane buying cucumbers
on margin, like securities, or perhaps with the aid of a bank loan.)

     Algernon reveals that he will not be able to dine with his aunt; Bunbury
has taken a turn for the worse. Lady Bracknell, in an exasperated tone, wishes
that Bunbury would make up his mind whether he is going to live or die.

     Algernon takes Lady Bracknell into another room to discuss the music that
will be played at a reception she is planning. Left alone with Gwendolen, Jack
makes a cautious conversational opening; he talks about the weather. Gwendolen
is made impatient by this. She encourages him to speak up before her mother
returns. Before he has gotten fairly started, she admits her love for
him-especially because his name is Ernest.

     Jack is overjoyed at her confession of love. But he is a bit disquieted
to think that she loves him because his name is Ernest. After all, his name is
not Ernest. He suggests that Jack is a nice name. Gwendolen disapproves of the
name Jack.

     Jack begins to talk of marriage. But Gwendolen insists on being proposed
to in a proper ceremonial manner. Jack gets down on one knee and does so. This
is the moment when Lady Bracknell returns to the room.

     Gwendolen tells her mother that she and Jack (or Ernest, as she calls
him) are engaged. Her mother replies that she will tell Gwendolen when she is
engaged. She sends Gwendolen out to the carriage, to wait while she questions
Jack.

     Jack's answers to Lady Bracknell's questions are satisfactory, as regards
age, occupation, and income. But a question about his parentage reveals that
he was a foundling. A Mr. Thomas Cardew found him as an infant in a large
black handbag, in a cloakroom at Victoria Station. Lady Bracknell tells Jack
that unless he can produce proper relatives, he can have no hope of marrying
Gwendolen. She leaves indignantly.

     Gwendolen comes back. She fears her mother will never permit her to marry
Jack. She takes down his address in the country so that she can communicate
with him daily. With great satisfaction at the opportunity, Algernon also
takes down the country address where Cecily, eighteen and very pretty, is
living.

     Comment: The scene in which Lady Bracknell looks into the credentials of
her future son-in-law is one of the most famous and amusing in English
literature. It is a superb blend of nonsense and light satire.

     One element which makes the scene amusing is the upside-down
conversation, characteristic of the entire play. (We usually call a statement
which is opposite to what we might expect, a paradox.) Those answers which we
would expect Lady Bracknell to object to, she finds pleasing. Jack admits that
he smokes. She is glad to hear it, because a man should have some occupation.
Jack also admits that he knows nothing. She approves. Nothing should tamper
with the "delicate exotic fruit" - ignorance - or it loses its bloom.

     The scene is also a fine bit of satire. It is ironical to observe that
when Wilde strikes the pose of a social critic, as he does in the three
earlier plays we have dealt with, he achieves a result that is both strained
and banal. But when he abandons himself to the bubbling gaiety that is his
true excellence, he achieves highly effective social criticism with an
appearance of perfect ease.

     Lady Bracknell is a caricature of all the tough-minded mothers who have
ever gone about the task of finding the proper husbands for their daughters.
The proper husband, of course, has certain criteria to meet-social,
professional, financial. In real life, these matters are often looked into
discreetly. But Lady Bracknell offers no pretenses; she is entirely open
about this. She begins by efficiently producing a pad and pencil, with which
she makes notes during the interview. She tells Jack that he is not on her
list of eligible young men - and she uses the same list as the Duchess of
Bolton.

     The eminent practicality of Lady Bracknell's behavior is very funny. It
is as though Jack were either a piece of livestock or a financial investment
she were considering. But behind the absurdity there is sharp criticism of the
way, in certain classes of society, marriages are arranged for financial and
social reasons, with little interest in whether the parties to the marriage
care for each other. Alfred Lord Tennyson discusses this subject seriously in
his narrative poem Maud (1855). William Makepeace Thackeray gives it extended
satirical treatment in his great novel, Vanity Fair (1848). From these
examples (many more could be given), we see that this subject was of great
interest to the nineteenth century. No treatment of it is sharper or surer
than Wilde's, however.

     We may also note that the Duchess of Berwick, in Lady Windermere's Fan,
is a character of the same type as Lady Bracknell, but less fully developed.
Obedient Agatha, however, is very different from Gwendolen, who is
high-spirited and independent.

Act II

Summary:

     The scene is the Manor House at Woolton, where Cecily Cardew, Jack
Worthing's ward, lives with her governess, Miss Prism. In the garden, Cecily
is trying to delay her German lesson. She dislikes all her subjects, but
German the most. She waters the flowers, talks with Miss Prism about the
wicked young man, Jack's younger brother Ernest, and then writes in her diary.
Miss Prism reveals during their talk that she once wrote a three-volume novel.

     Canon Chasuble, the local clergyman, now enters. Cecily arranges for Miss
Prism to take a walk with him. Miss Prism seems to find the Canon a romantic
figure, though he is elderly and very scholarly in his conversation.

     Comment: Wilde shows skill in the names he gives to some of his
characters. They suggest the kind of people he is portraying; sometimes they
are small caricatures all by themselves. When one says the name "Miss Prism,"
for instance, one cannot help pursing one's lips in a prim manner, which
suggests the ultra-respectable, schoolteacherish lady who bears the name.

     Canon Chasuble's name suggests the dignified, conservative churchman. A
canon is a clergyman attached to a cathedral church - that is, a church which
houses a bishop. A chasuble is a vestment worn during celebration of the mass
by priests-either Catholic or conservative Anglican priests who practice a
ritual very similar to that of the Catholics.

     Dr. Chasuble's learning is deeper than Miss Prism's. He refers to her as
"Egeria," which bewilders her. Egeria is the name of a nymph in Latin
mythology; her main characteristic was her wisdom. The nymph frequently gave
advice to Numa Pompilius, an early Roman king-so says legend.

     However, Miss Prism does have a realistic attitude toward life. When
discussing her novel, she says that in it, the good ended happily, and the bad
people did not. "That is what Fiction means." In other words, such exact
justice is seldom found in real life.

     She is also quite unsentimental about the wicked Ernest. She does not
believe in reforming him-in "turning bad people into good people at a moment's
notice." If he is bad, she thinks he should be punished, and let that be the
end of it.

Summary:

     While Cecily is alone with her books, Mr. Ernest Worthing is announced.
Cecily is much pleased; the wicked Ernest has at last arrived in person. The
butler brings Algernon into the garden. He assures Cecily that he is not
wicked at all. This disappoints her so obviously that he admits that he has
been quite reckless and bad. He urges her to reform him. Since she claims she
is too busy, he decides to reform himself during the course of the afternoon.
But this will require nourishment; Algernon is hungry, as usual. Cecily takes
him into the house for food.

     Dr. Chasuble and Miss Prism return; Miss Prism is reproaching him for
being a bachelor. She feels he needs a wife-a mature one, of course.

     Jack Worthing now enters, dressed in deep mourning. His brother Ernest,
he announces, is dead, carried off by a severe chill while in Paris. (Jack has
killed off Ernest in preparation for his marriage to Gwendolen, as he planned
to in Act I.) For Gwendolen's sake, Jack arranges to have Dr. Chasuble
christen him Ernest later in the afternoon.

     Cecily comes out of the house. She tells her guardian that his brother
Ernest is inside. She then brings Algernon out into the garden. Algernon tells
"Brother Jack" that he is sorry for all the wrong he has done. He means to
lead a better life from now on. Jack is simply furious with Algernon, but
Cecily forces them to shake hands. Dr. Chasuble, Miss Prism, and Cecily leave
the garden, so that the reconciled brothers can be alone. When they are alone,
Jack learns that Algernon has brought a pile of luggage and has settled in for
a week's stay. Jack orders Algernon to return to London at once; he then goes
to take off his mourning costume.

     Algernon is quite unrepentant, and when the charming Cecily returns, he
gives up the idea of leaving. He declares his love. She writes down what he
says in her diary. He asks her to marry him. She tells him they have been
engaged for the past three months, and shows him his letters to her, which she
has had to write herself. Algernon is bewildered but joyful to find that his
romance with Cecily has been going on for months. The only thing that is
disturbing is her statement that she could only love a man named Ernest.
Hastily, Algernon goes off to arrange his christening by Dr. Chasuble.

     Comment: We are not too surprised to find that in her cautious romance
with Dr. Chasuble, Miss Prism takes the active role. That bumbling gentleman
can only back away clumsily from her attack. She accuses him of being a
"woman-thrope," a hater of women, a word she has invented as a companion to
"misanthrope," a hater of man. (It actually refers to the whole human race,
not the male sex.) Dr. Chasuble takes refuge in the church, where, he says,
early practice did not include marriage for the clergy.

     It is more startling to observe the successful tactics of Cecily. She is
young and naive. Yet she takes the lead in Algernon's courtship with complete
self-confidence. She does quite as well as the sophisticated Gwendolen did in
the first act. With the help of wide-eyed innocence ("I do not think it can be
right for you to talk to me like that. Miss Prism never says such things to
me," she remarks to Algernon when he tells her she is like a pink rose) and
her diary, she becomes affianced to Algernon in record time.

     Cecily's diary is the occasion of a light satirical touch. Cecily remarks
that it is only a record of a young girl's thoughts and "consequently meant
for publication." This refers to the great numbers of journals and diaries
which were published with the claim that when they were written, they were not
meant for publication-a claim which is very hard to believe. In our day, many
such books are still printed, and we still suspect that the authors always
meant to publish them.

Summary:

     Cecily is alone once more in the garden when Gwendolen Fairfax is
announced by the butler. Gwendolen is effusively friendly. They are soon on a
first-name basis. She is taken aback to learn that Mr. Worthing is Cecily's
guardian. She is not pleased to think that her fiance has a ward so young and
pretty. She is soon reassured. Cecily is the ward of John Worthing, not Ernest
Worthing. In fact, Cecily confides, she is engaged to Ernest Worthing. On the
contrary, Gwendolen remarks courteously, she is engaged to Ernest Worthing.
Courtesy disappears. At the height of a sharp verbal duel between the girls,
Jack returns.

     Gwendolen greets Jack lovingly as Ernest. Cecily tells her that this is
Mr. Jack Worthing, her guardian. Gwendolen draws away from Jack at the
terrible news that his name is not Ernest.

     Next Algernon returns, and the same things happen. Cecily greets him as
Ernest, Gwendolen reveals his real name, and Cecily recoils from him in
horror.

     Now Gwendolen and Cecily are drawn together. They are fellow-victims of a
cruel deception. With arms about one another's waist, they go together into
the house. Jack and Algernon are left outside at the teatable. Jack is in a
severely agitated state, but Algernon is enjoying his latest episode of
Bunburying. He systematically devours all the muffins at the teatable, as the
act comes to an end.

     Comment: When its basic elements are examined, the structure of The
Importance of Being Earnest is like that of Wilde's earlier plays. The first
act is employed to introduce the characters and explain their relation to one
another. This is known as the exposition. In the first act, the main action
is also begun. (Jack, Algernon, and Gwendolen are all started on their way to
the Manor House.)

     The second act is the one in which complications are introduced and
affairs reach a climax. In the third act, all elements are sorted out and
concluded. Act II provides a full measure of events which follow one another
rapidly and create even more complications. The pace becomes faster as the act
proceeds. Algernon's arrival as Ernest is quickly followed by Jack's arrival
in mourning for Ernest, dead in Paris of a chill. Soon after, Algernon and
Cecily confess their love and agree to marry. Then comes the arrival of
Gwendolen and first the quarrel, then the reconciliation of the two girls.

     The only way in which all this frantic action differs from what we find
in An Ideal Husband or the other plays is that it is about nothing whatever.
Nobody's career or happiness is seriously at stake. The excitement is entirely
because two couples have gotten engaged with the girl in each case believing
that her young man's name is Ernest, and the girls have now found out that
their fiances are not named Ernest at all. The absurdity of the problem is
only equalled by its unlikelihood. How delightful to spend a couple of hours
in a world of gaiety and wit, where young lovers are divided only by problems
as insubstantial as smoke!

     The encounter between Cecily and Gwendolen is one of the most subtly
written sections of the play. Immediately after they meet, we feel between
them the antagonism of two pretty women who come together without preparation
or warning, and who cannot identify one another clearly. This is made worse
because Cecily knows this beautiful lady has something to do with her
guardian, and Gwendolen has the disagreeable experience of finding this pretty
girl living in the home of her fiance.

     Gwendolen handles her obvious dislike by expressing its opposite. She
insists that she likes Cecily the moment she sees her. Cecily, on the other
hand, is more reserved. She lets Gwendolen pour forth exaggerated sentiments,
but she responds with conventional politeness, no more. This throws Gwendolen
slightly off balance and puts her at a disadvantage.

     When the girls believe they are both engaged to the same man and become
openly hostile, we are amused to see how the battle goes. The underdog is
Cecily. She is only eighteen. She has grown up in the country, and has been
under the control of the dubiously intelligent Miss Prism for three years.
Gwendolen is older, and she is the product of sophisticated London society.
Yet Cecily emerges as the victor in the verbal battle. Almost every thrust of
Gwendolen's is topped by a successful retort by Cecily.

     For example, when it becomes apparent that Gwendolen was engaged to
Ernest Worthing before Cecily, Gwendolen says she has the prior claim. Cecily
replies that Ernest seems to have changed his mind since his engagement to
Gwendolen. Cecily also takes direct action when she gives Gwendolen four lumps
of sugar in her tea and a large slice of cake, after Gwendolen has requested
no sugar and bread and butter. But her most triumphant stroke is her final
comment: "It seems to me, Miss Fairfax, that I am trespassing on your valuable
time. No doubt you have many other calls of a similar character to make in the
neighborhood."

     The reversal of the quarrel is also most amusing. Within a moment, the
two wronged girls are full of passionate sympathy for one another. They decide
to call one another "sister," thus carrying out Algernon's observation in Act
I that women only call each other sister when they have called each other a
lot of other things first.

     The act ends at a point of thorough confusion. Each set of young lovers
has quarrelled. And in the background there is still the threat of Lady
Bracknell.

Act III

Summary:

     In the morning-room of the Manor House, Gwendolen and Cecily are looking
out of the window at Jack and Algy. They are rather disturbed at being ignored
by the young men, for they are now ready to receive apologies and be
reconciled. They are willing to look upon anything as a sign that the young
men are sorry. Cecily notices that they are eating muffins; she accepts this
as repentance.

     The men enter. The girls agree to be silent; they will not be the first
to speak. Accordingly, Gwendolen is the first to speak. She asks for an
explanation. Algernon explains that he pretended to be the wicked Ernest in
order to meet Cecily. Jack explains that he pretended to have a brother in
order to come to London and see Gwendolen. The girls are satisfied with these
explanations. They are beautiful, even if not true. As Gwendolen says, "In
matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing." (This
might well be the motto of the society Wilde is satirizing.)

     The girls, however, are still desirous of marrying men named Ernest. Jack
and Algy tell them they are each going to be christened Ernest later in the
afternoon. Cecily and Gwendolen are so moved by this self-sacrifice that they
forgive the young men. The two pairs of lovers fall into one another's arms,
just as Lady Bracknell enters.

     Lady Bracknell has followed Gwendolen, after bribing Gwendolen's maid to
learn where she has gone. She once more tells Jack that there can be no
engagement between him and Gwendolen.

     Now she turns to Algernon. What, she asks, has happened to his friend Mr.
Bunbury? Bunbury is dead, Algernon replies. Lady Bracknell is glad to hear
that Mr. Bunbury has at last done something definite about his illness. She
would also like to know whose hand her nephew is holding.

     Jack introduces Cecily to Lady Bracknell. Cecily and Algernon tell her
they are engaged. Lady Bracknell is disturbed at the high percentage of
engagements she has met with recently. However, she sets to work gathering
information about Cecily. She begins with an acid inquiry: is Cecily connected
with any of the London Railway stations? Jack is very angry at this indirect
thrust at him. But he controls himself. He gives full information about his
ward. As Lady Bracknell is about to leave, Jack tells her that Cecily has a
fortune of one hundred and thirty thousand pounds. Lady Bracknell sits down
again abruptly.

     She now finds Cecily most attractive, full of the solid good qualities
that last. She tells her frankly that Algernon has no money, but Lady
Bracknell does not believe in mercenary marriages! She adds that she had no
money at all when she married Lord Bracknell but she did not let that stop
her.

     Jack interrupts this happy scene. He will not give his consent. He
suspects Algernon of being untruthful by nature. All are astounded by this
charge. It is impossible! Algernon went to Oxford!

     But Jack is firm. And since, by the terms of her grandfather's will,
Cecily will not come of age until she is thirty-five, his objections are
serious. Lady Bracknell does not see anything wrong with waiting until Cecily
is thirty-five, but Cecily does not care for this idea at all.

     Jack does point out that if Lady Bracknell will permit Gwendolen to marry
him, he will permit Cecily to marry Algernon. This Lady Bracknell refuses to
consider. She and Gwendolen prepare to leave.

     Comment: At the beginning of Act III, the estrangements between the
lovers disappear in a cloud of nonsense. The scene has a comic-opera quality,
and is indeed in part a satire on popular comedies and operettas. In their
discussion, Gwendolen and Cecily tend to speak at the same time-which happens
very often in operettas. However, they recognize that this is a difficult
thing to accomplish. They talk it over beforehand and Gwendolen conducts them
as they speak. This is a genial joke at the expense of plays and operettas
where several characters speak the same words in perfect unison, apparently
without effort.

     Note that in this act, Algernon kills off his imaginary friend Bunbury.
This is in contradiction to what he says in Act I - that Bunbury is
particularly necessary to a married man. Algernon must be very much in love
with Cecily to have changed his mind.

     Lady Bracknell's reappearance gives new color and a change of tone to the
play. She is a creation so formidable that she carries a strong atmosphere of
her own. Her mental processes are not unlike those of the elderly society
ladies in Wilde's other plays, except that she is in no way muddleheaded, as
are Lady Hunstanton and Lady Markby. Her memory is competent and her intellect
strong, though it does operate according to a system of its own. For instance,
when she hears of Algernon's engagement, she remarks that the number of
engagements hereabouts seems "considerably above the proper average that
statistics have laid down for our guidance." This seems sensible until a close
examination shows us that it is a prime example of upside-down thinking.
Statistics do not guide behavior; they record it. Upon further consideration,
we realize that this is one of Wilde's most profound jokes. Many people do
behave as though they are supposed to try to conform to statistical averages;
they become upset if their wishes and thoughts are not the same as "the
average."

     This second scene between Jack Worthing and Lady Bracknell is amusing
because in part the tables are turned. Jack once more supplies Lady Bracknell
with vital information, this time about Cecily instead of about himself.
But as soon as Lady Bracknell learns of Cecily's substantial fortune, Jack is
in a position of power. Cecily is a most eligible young lady-especially for
the penniless Algernon. Lady Bracknell is anxious for the match to take place,
even if it means waiting seventeen years, until Cecily is thirty-five. But
since Cecily will not wait until then-which, to Lady Bracknell, shows "a
somewhat impatient nature" - Jack, as her guardian, controls the situation. He
obviously enjoys standing up to Lady Bracknell and telling her she must let
him marry Gwendolen before he will permit Cecily to marry Algernon. Otherwise,
as he puts it, "a passionate celibacy" is their future destiny.

     As Lady Bracknell looks Cecily over, she is critical of her appearance.
Her dress is "sadly simple." Her hair looks "almost as Nature might have left
it." No doubt, Wilde is referring satirically to society beauties who are so
artificial that they no longer bear much resemblance to women in their natural
state. Cecily's youth and prettiness are not good enough for Lady Bracknell
who wants her completely changed by a good French maid. She tells how she
recommended one to a certain lady of her acquaintance, and in three months her
own husband did not know her. Jack comments that, after six months, nobody
knew her. (That is, she had so disgraced herself by her behavior that she was
a social outcast.)

Summary:

     Dr. Chasuble now enters. He is much disappointed when he is told that
there will be no christenings. (Since nobody can get married anyway, the
christenings have no practical value.) He says he will return to the church,
where Miss Prism is waiting for him.

     At the sound of this name, Lady Bracknell is startled. When she learns
Miss Prism is Cecily's governess, she demands to see her. At this moment, Miss
Prism arrives, looking for Canon Chasuble. She is shocked when she sees Lady
Bracknell. Lady Bracknell demands to know where the baby is that was left in
Miss Prism's charge twenty-eight years ago. The baby's carriage was found, and
in it was the manuscript of a three-volume novel, but the baby was missing.

     Miss Prism explains that in a moment of absent-mindedness she put the
manuscript of her novel in the carriage and the baby in a black leather
handbag. She put the handbag in the cloakroom at Victoria Station.

     Jack, much excited, rushes upstairs to get the handbag. Miss Prism
identifies it as hers. Jack embraces her and call her "mother," to her great
indignation. She is unmarried. Jack tells her it does not matteraand tries to
embrace her again.

     Lady Bracknell tells Jack that Miss Prism is not his mother. He is the
child of General and Mrs. Moncrieff and thus is Algernon's older brother. What
is his name, then? Jack asks. Why, Lady Bracknell answers, he was named for
his father. She cannot remember the General's Christian name. Jack looks up
the General in a military directory and learns that his name was Ernest John
Moncrieff. Jack has told Gwendolen the truth after all. His name really is
Earnest.

     At this news, Canon Chasuble embraces Miss Prism (for no logical reason),
Algernon embraces Cecily, and Jack embraces Gwendolen. Jack says that for the
first time in his life he realizes The Importance of Being Earnest. With this
purposely dreadful pun, the play ends.

     Comment: Lady Bracknell's description of Miss Prism ("a female of
repellent aspect, remotely connected with education") is a famous line from
this play. However, it is only part of a very funny dialogue between Lady
Bracknell and Canon Chasuble. Canon Chasuble is angry at this description. He
says that Miss Prism is a most cultivated and respectable lady. To this, Lady
Bracknell replies grimly: "It is obviously the same person." Lady Bracknell
has, so to speak, translated the Canon's remark and found that it checks with
her own description. If the lady is cultivated, she is no doubt a governess,
and if she is very respectable, she is probably very plain in appearance.

     When Lady Bracknell confronts Miss Prism, she acts as if no time has
elapsed since she saw her last. "Prism! Where is that baby?" cries Lady
Bracknell, as if she were taking up an interrupted conversation.

     Miss Prism's story of her confused actions twenty-eight years before,
which results in Jack learning who he is, is a satire on a whole mass of
dramatic literature. In this literature, children are mixed up in infancy and
only learn who they are when they are grown up, usually at a crucial point in
their lives. Plays using this device are found as far back as the work of the
Roman Plautus (died 184 B.C.).

     This device is still to be found in the plays and operas of the
nineteenth century. It is not very likely that Miss Prism would put a baby
into a handbag instead of his carriage and then check the handbag at a railway
station. But it is not more incredible than what is seriously shown in Verdi's
opera Il Trovatore (1852): the gypsy woman Azucena, holding both her own baby
and the child of her enemy, throws the enemy's child into a fire-only she
finds out a moment later that she has incinerated her own child by mistake.
Wilde is amiably making fun of this type of nonsense.

     William S. Gilbert also satirized it in his libretto for the operetta
H.M.S. Pinafore (1878); here Little Buttercup describes how she mixed up
two babies when she was a nursemaid. One is now a sea captain and one a common
sailor. As soon as they learn of the error, they dutifully switch positions
and accents; the former cockney sailor now speaks a cultivated English and the
former captain talks like a cockney sailor. Gilbert, unlike Wilde, was acutely
aware of the absurdities of class distinction. Wilde only notices the
absurdities of second-rate plays.

     In fact, Wilde has crowded a surprising amount of literary satire into
the recognition scene of the Importance of Being Earnest. Not only do we have
the long-lost baby and the absent-minded nursemaid, we also have the
illegitimate child and the unmarried mother, whom he recognizes at long last
and defends against the world. Among the numerous plays of this kind which
Wilde laughs at is A Woman of No Importance, by Oscar Wilde. Jack says to
Miss Prism (mistakenly): "But after all, who has the right to cast a stone
against one who has suffered? Cannot repentance wipe out an act of folly?
Why should there be one law for men and another for women? Mother, I forgive
you." This could have been taken straight out of Wilde's earlier play. Miss
Prism's indignation at this familiar and well-meant speech makes it all the
funnier.

     General Remarks On The Play: The Importance of Being Earnest is one of
the great comedies of the English language. In it, Oscar Wilde has created a
complete world, entirely light and frivolous. This world is inhabited by
unreal people who converse in a manner more witty, more elegant, and more
absurd than that of everyday human beings. Their normal method of expression
is the paradox, or upside-down statement. ("A girl with a simple, unspoiled
nature, like Gwendolen, could hardly be expected to reside in the country,")
They also talk sheer nonsense. ("When I am in really great trouble, as anyone
who knows me intimately will tell you, I refuse everything except food and
drink.") They employ a strange brand of logic. ("I have lost both my parents."
"Both? That seems like carelessness.")

     Nothing of any real importance happens in the world of this comedy. The
events are incredible. They are brought to a conclusion by the most fantastic
kind of coincidence.

     But any descriptive effort is likely to be a failure with this play. It
is a complete and perfect whole; the events, the characters, the dialogue all
blend into one another to form an indescribable experience, not the less
significant because it is pleasurable and easy to grasp. Those examples of wit
and style which are given here are arbitrarily chosen. A completely different
assortment, every bit as good, could easily have been assembled. Each reader
is amused by the play in a slightly different way. As each person gets to know
it, he gathers his own selection of favorite moments and favorite lines.

     Oscar Wilde seems to have come to this remarkable work via a gradual
development. Similar characters and dialogues are found scattered through his
earlier plays, but they are usually subsidiaries of a rather ordinary main
plot, and they are not fully developed. Eventually, Wilde tossed away the
ordinary people and events and worked only with the gay caricatures and witty
nonsense he had previously experimented with. The Duchess of Berwick became
Lady Bracknell, and Lord Goring was turned into Gwendolen Fairfax.

     There is nothing else in English literature quite like The Importance
of Being Earnest. However, in the late seventeenth century, there was a group
of comic dramatists (often known as Restoration playwrights) who produced
comedies which were light, artificial, and polished in style. The greatest
of these was William Congreve. His plays, Love for Love (1695) and The Way of
the World (1700) have a gay brilliance of style which is not dissimilar to
Wilde's.

Characterizations

     At no time in his career does Oscar Wilde show much talent for profound,
believable character portraits. His interest in his fellow men is always
superficial rather than analytical. He does not belong with those who reveal
to us our fellow human beings and thus increase our understanding and our
sympathy. He does not belong with Shakespeare, Chaucer, Browning - nor with
Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, and similar writers of our own time.

     In The Importance of Being Earnest, a play which is all polished surface,
the character portraits are also concerned only with surfaces. This is to
be expected. But in this limited kind of portraiture, Wilde is very skillful
at differentiating the characters and giving them distinctive characteristics.
The two young men, Jack and Algernon, are clearly distinguishable from one
another. There is little danger of confusing Gwendolen with Cecily.
Shakespeare himself was not as successful at differentiating the young lovers
in his early comedies.

     The other roles too, are clearly drawn, though with the clarity of
cartoons - the imposing Lady Bracknell, the respectable Miss Prism, and Canon
Chasuble, the likeable though boring clergyman.

     Jack Worthing: Jack is the older and more serious of the two young men.
He is also a worrier, but tends to be rather passive. He is treated haughtily
by Lady Bracknell and teased constantly by Algernon. Gwendolen takes the
initiative in their courtship, even directing the way he should propose. In
Act III, he takes a more active role; he enjoys being able to blackmail
Lady Bracknell, and we enjoy watching him stand up to her.

     Gwendolen: The more sophisticated of the two young ladies, Gwendolen
has been trained to follow the dictates of fashion. She is the essence of
artificially. She takes tea without sugar and bread and butter instead of cake
because it is fashionable to do so. She uses a lorgnette (a type of
spectacles) because her mother has taught her to be nearsighted.

     It is interesting to note Gwendolen's relations with her mother, who
orders her about constantly. There is nothing of rebellious youth about her.
She does not object to her treatment; she simply says, "Yes, mamma," and then
does as she pleases. In this, she is like Lord Goring in An Ideal Husband. He
handles his overbearing father, Lord Caversham, in exactly the same way.

     Gwendolen repeats most of the cliches of romantic heroines-but usually
with a difference. She tells Jack she will always love him, even though her
mother will not let her marry him. "But although she may prevent us from
becoming man and wife, and I may marry someone else, and marry often, nothing
that she can possibly do can alter my eternal devotion to you." Jack has no
complaints over this odd expression of everlasting loyalty. He only says:
"Dear Gwendolen."

     In Act III, when Jack goes to get the handbag and show it to Miss Prism,
he says: "Gwendolen, wait here for me." She answers: "If you are not too long,
I will wait here for you all my life." In short, Gwendolen is a perfect
romantic heroine, except that she does not care for personal inconvenience.

     Algernon: He is a young man full of adventurous high spirits. Being in
debt does not worry him; he tears up his bills quite cheerfully in Act I. Even
the temporary anger of Cecily does not depress him. The fact that he pretends
to be Ernest and invades Jack's house to meet Cecily shows how enterprising
he is, and how fond of escapades.

     Algernon has a marvelous appetite. He eats up his aunt's cucumber
sandwiches in Act I and devours all Jack's muffins in Act II. Even when he
falls in love with Cecily, he does not forget his stomach. He tells her
that the first necessity for reformation of character is a good meal. His
appetite emphasizes his youth and vitality.

     Cecily: Though Cecily is young and naive, she exhibits a strong
personality. With innocent charm, she causes Algernon to fall in love with her
and propose to her, something she has had in mind for some time, since she has
been engaged to him in her imagination for three months. She has even written
a great number of letters to herself on his behalf!

     This simple girl is able to take the honors in a verbal combat with
Gwendolen, who is older and more experienced. This is another measure of her
capabilities.

     Cecily is gay, pert, and coy. She thus shows some relation to Mabel
Chiltern in An Ideal Husband. But Mabel is rather difficult for a modern
reader to enjoy. We must take her charm on trust, figuring that tastes
change with time. Cecily, though, is authentically charming. When played by a
skillful actress, she is entirely delightful.

     Lady Bracknell: She is the final development of a long line of society
matrons portrayed in Wilde's plays. She is certainly the most impressive of
all. As Jack sadly describe her, she is a monster who is not a myth. Her will
is of iron; so is her assurance. She never doubts her own ideas or standards.
She runs the lives of her family as a matter of course. She is relentlessly
logical, though her logic is of a kind only found in Wilde's plays. Speaking
of her nephew Algernon as an eligible young man, she says: "He has nothing,
but he looks everything. What more can one desire?"

     Lady Bracknell is a capable trader in that marketplace where marriages
are arranged among the upper classes. Her business-like instincts contrast
amusingly with her social elegance.

     Miss Prism: Miss Prism is the author of a very sentimental three-volume
novel (this was the usual length of popular Victorian fiction), but her own
attitudes are realistic. She keeps fact and fiction strictly separated. She is
thoroughly unsentimental about the mythical Ernest. Upon hearing of his death,
she comments that it will be a good lesson for him. She expresses honest
dismay when it turns out that he is not dead after all.

     Miss Prism is amusing in her awkward pursuit of Dr. Chasuble, a stubborn
bachelor, in which she is successful at the end of the play.

     We must conscientiously note also her mixing up a baby and a manuscript,
a piece of absent-mindedness of classic proportions. However, Miss Prism shows
no actual absent-mindedness during the play.

     Dr. Chasuble: This conscientious elderly clergyman is the object of Miss
Prism's respectable affection. He expresses suitable sentiments for each
occasion during the play. We get the impression that he is not exactly a
fascinating preacher. He plans to preach a sermon commemorating Ernest's
death. It is a sermon he has used innumerable times. He adjusts it each time
for the specific occasion, happy or sad. Everyone sighs when he mentions it.
They have obviously sat through it many times; they do not look forward to
hearing it once more.

     Lord Bracknell: Lord Bracknell, father of Gwendolen and husband of Lady
Bracknell, makes no appearance in the play. But from the references of his
wife and daughter, a portrait emerges. Lady Bracknell does not tell him where
Gwendolen has gone when she flees to visit Jack. She lets him think that
Gwendolen is at a particular long university extension lecture. Earlier, she
tells Gwendolen that her father will let her know when she is engaged, if his
health permits. Gwendolen remarks that nobody has ever heard of her father;
his proper place is in the home.

     Perhaps the most vivid little picture is created by Lady Bracknell in Act
I. She says that if Algernon does not come to dinner, it will spoil the
symmetry of the dinner table. In that case, Lord Bracknell will have to dine
alone upstairs. Luckily, he is used to it.

     The absent Lord Bracknell is sketched as a feeble, ineffectual man,
managed by his wife and ignored by his daughter. Though he is the host, he has
to eat upstairs by himself during dinner parties, if his wife finds this
convenient.

