I’ve just come back from seeing a 21st century production
of a 19th century operetta by the late, great Gilbert and
Sullivan. The reason for my attendance
at this event was because my oldest granddaughter, at university in St Andrews,
was directing the show, so of course we went to support her, and had a
thoroughly good time. We were most impressed
by the talents and professionalism shown by the cast and the small group of
musicians, and felt that our granddaughter had done a grand job in this, her
first, directorial role. (Of course, we
weren’t a bit biased!)
However, we couldn’t help wondering how relevant the story is today.
Princess
Ida
opened at the Savoy Theatre on 5 January 1884, the eighth of Gilbert
and Sullivan’s fourteen collaborations. The
opera satirises women’s education and Darwinian evolution, which were
controversial topics in conservative Victorian England, but Gilbert was also
aiming his satire squarely at Women’s Emancipation. When Princess Ida was revived in 1926, The Times said: “It was after the fairies of Iolanthe had wrought havoc in the British Constitution that Gilbert
turned to the companion task of showing how fatal it would be if women ever
presumed to be anything but fairies, and cocking a cynical eye at Tennyson’s Princess, wrote Princess Ida, or Castle Adamant.”
The Times was
right, in that the story is based on a narrative poem by Alfred,
Lord Tennyson called The
Princess (1847), written following the founding in the same year of
the first college of women’s higher education, Queen’s College, London. In 1870, when women’s higher education was
still a radical concept, Gilbert wrote a farcical musical play, based on
the poem, also called The Princess,
and subsequently lifted much of the dialogue of Princess Ida directly from his 1870 farce. However, Girton College, Cambridge, had been
established in 1869, and by the time Gilbert and Sullivan collaborated on Princess Ida in 1883, the idea of a
women’s college was no longer considered revolutionary. Indeed, Westfield College, the University of
London’s first women’s college, which had opened in 1882, is cited as the model
for Castle Adamant, and certainly women’s higher education was very much in the
news in London at the time.
Based, as several of Gilbert’s
plots are, on misunderstandings, children married or affianced at an early age
and brought up with no knowledge of each other, and a certain amount of
cross-dressing, mistaken identities and so on, at first sight Princess Ida would seem to have little
relevance to the world of today. (Mind
you, some of Shakespeare’s plays, such as Twelfth
Night, involve similar problems, so maybe we shouldn’t blame Gilbert too
much!)
It is hard to tell the story of Princess Ida simply, but I
will try. The story concerns the young
Prince Hilarion, who was married at the age of one to Princess Ida, a few
months younger than he. Since then they
have never seen each other, but now Hilarion is 21, his father, Hildebrande,
insists that it is time he claimed his bride.
However, when Ida’s father, Gama, arrives with his three sons, he tells
Hildebrande that Ida has forsworn the world of men and formed an all-female university
at Castle Adamant. Indeed, he says, “No
men are allowed within its walls, and it is so feminist an establishment that
although the ladies rise at cockcrow, every morning the crowing is done by an
accomplished hen”.
Naturally, this being G&S, Hilarion and his friends, Florian
and Cyril, decide to break into Castle Adamant dressed as women and impersonate
female students, hoping to persuade Ida to change her mind. Princess Ida is intrigued by these three “new
students” and feels a strange connection with Hilarion. However, Florian’s sister Psyche recognises
them and explains the philosophy of the university to them: namely, that women
are superior to men and should rule the world in their stead. But having by now taken a fancy to Cyril she
promises to keep their secret, and warns them to avoid Lady Blanche, who
originally helped Ida form the university but now wishes she was in charge
herself. Then Melissa, Lady Blanche’s
daughter, arrives, discovers their secret and falls in love with Florian, so
that when Lady Blanche sees the boys and guesses their secret immediately, Melissa
convinces her that if she helps Hilarion to gain his love, Ida will leave
Castle Adamant to marry him and leave the university to Lady Blanche. This is music to Lady Blanche’s ears, so she
agrees to help the boys.
But just as all is about to go well, Hildebrande arrives with
his army and threatens to kill Ida’s father unless the princess agrees to marry
Hilarion. Ida refuses, and rousing her
students to fight the male invaders, declares that she will die before she will
be Hilarion’s wife.
As the army lays siege to Castle Adamant, Ida prepares her
students to fight them, but soon discovers that the girls are not too keen on
the idea of fighting all these young men.
She is distressed by her students’ betrayal of all she has taught them, so
when her father, Gama, and her three brothers arrive, Ida agrees to allow them in.
Her three foolish brothers, having just
removed their armour as being too heavy and uncomfortable, challenge Hilarion,
Florian and Cyril to a battle to decide Ida’s fate, but are roundly
defeated.
Hilarion then makes an
emotional appeal to Ida, pointing out all he has learned about women and
marriage during his time at Castle Adamant, and declaring his love. Moved, Ida admits that she does love him, so
she accepts him as her husband and, along with Psyche and Melissa, leaves the
university, leaving a delighted Lady Blanche to rule over Castle Adamant.
It remains one of Gilbert and Sullivan’s less frequently
performed operettas, but retains much of their perennial charm. However, I do wonder what Gilbert would have thought
of it being performed by students of both sexes at a mixed university!
2 comments:
I had a little chuckle at the cross-dressing of the men, to gain admission to an all-female institution. With gender identity issues so much in the news, perhaps it's more relevant than you think!
You could be right, Michelle Ann!
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