Theatre takes the reader into a world that W Somerset Maugham was intimately knowledgeable of. In 1933, he had written his last play – Sheppey – and announced his retirement as a playwright. Although best known for his novels and short stories, he was a prolific dramatist and between 1902 and 1933 he had 32 plays staged. Of his plays, his biographer Frederic Raphael noted that “his wit was sharp but rarely distressing; his plots abounded in amusing situations, his characters were usually drawn from the same class as his audiences and managed at once to satirize and delight their originals”. The same could be applied to this very entertaining, astute and absorbing novel.
Theatre focuses on big themes – love, art and self-awareness – but does so with a light touch. It centres on Julia Lambert, who, at 46, is the queen of the London stage. Considered the greatest stage actress in England, Julia seems to have it all – her choice of roles and a comfortable life with her handsome actor/ manager husband Michael Gosselyn and their son Roger. Self-absorbed, somewhat vain and more than a little bored with her husband, Julia is aware of her privilege and revels in her hard-won reputation.
Her comfort and stability is threatened by the arrival of a young accountant, Tom Fennell, who has been tasked with handling the theatre’s accounts. Tom is a fan and what starts out as an indulging of his interest, soon turns into a full-blown affair. Julia falls hard for Tom and her behaviour begins to affect not only her reputation, but her performances. Tom, for his part, seems enamoured with Julia too, but is also taking advantage of the financial support and contact with important people that a friendship with Julia brings. Events come to a head when Tom turns his affections to a younger actress Avice Crichton and tries to use his relationship with Julia to further her career. Julia’s heart may be turned by passion, but she is not a woman to be toyed with and she takes matters into her own hands.
The driving force of Theatre is Julia, a character of surprising depth and interest. Maugham has drawn her as delightful yet devious, charismatic yet self-obsessed. It would have been easy to present her as an aging actress looking for attention from a younger man to alleviate her fears of getting older, but instead he presents her as a complex figure whose bright intelligence and undeniable allure make her difficult to dislike. Tom is also given a level of complexity whereby his obvious pleasure at the benefits of having a wealthy, well-connected lover is balanced out by his genuine feelings for Julia.
Maugham also explores the nature of artificiality and how Julia has become so consumed with her life as an actress and become so versatile in playing many parts, that her performances continue into her everyday life. She is a different person with her each of her different friends and the only relationship that this trait is a detriment to is that with her son, Roger. The sharpest of all the characters, Roger is the only person who sees that Julia is a changing series of different personalities, performing what is expected of her in any given situation.
To me you act the part of the fond, indulgent, celebrated mother. You don’t exist, you’re only the innumerable parts you’ve played. I’ve often wondered if there was ever a you or if you were never anything more than a vehicle for all these other people that you’ve pretended to be. When I’ve seen you go into an empty room I’ve sometimes wanted to open the door suddenly, but I’ve been afraid to in case I found nobody there.
The book itself is an easy read, but that’s not because it is simple, but because Maugham is a consummate storyteller. There are strong themes throughout the book including the nature of art, politics and class, but they are there for the taking or leaving, depending on the reader. The real skill of the book is that Maugham has presented Julia’s story as either a tragedy or a comedy, depending on your point of view.
What shines through though, is his obvious deep-rooted love for the nature of theatre and what it can bring to our lives. For Julia, the playing of emotions may be fake, but the emotions she stirs in her audience are the things that are real, and important.
Roger says we don’t exist. Why, it’s only we who do exist. They are the shadows and we give them substance. We are the symbols of all this confused, aimless struggling that they call life, and it’s only the symbol which is real. They say acting is only make-believe. That make-believe is the only reality.
Theatre is a charming novel, incredibly funny, often thoughtful and always entertaining.
I read Theatre for Simon and Kaggsy’s 1937 Club and it is proving a popular choice with other reviews from Simon himself, Gareth at Somewhere Boy and Mallika at Literary Potpourri.
