Pygmalion

In the 10th book of Ovidio's Methamorphosis, I heard that a Cypriot sculptor fells in love with an ivory woman he himself has carved. Before, he is on the side of Venus, but has decided not to be interested in women; after finishing his work, he is in deep love with the sculpture, and asks the Great Goddess in the Temple to grant him the sickening wish of having her of bone and flesh. Back home, he kisses the lips of the stone and feel warm; he touches the breasts of rock and feel soft and welcome.

The name of the young sculptor (one might imagine) is Pygmalion, and got this wish granted from Venus.

Rupert Everett and Kara Tointon have the main roles in Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion, being showed now in the Garrick Theatre. However, the story of Shaw, as seen on the London stage last Saturday, resembles very poorly to the original myth: the transformation seems not to be radical, as Eliza keeps speaking with a very thick accent (the voice of the actress is warm, by the way, great), and I cannot imagine Mr. Henry Higgins asking Venus to fell in love with her.

In fact, it seems that the story runs away from the pureness of the myth, from its innocence. The relationship between the characters at the end has become poisonous, is sick to death. The final scene before the wedding is well-constructed. The two characters, each in one corner, sit and talk poison to each other. It is a powerful design on the stage but, however, one had the impression that somehow, somewhere, through a third corner, energy was leaking.

Yes, I think the nasty reality in Shaw's play overcomes the crystalline and childish myth. Indeed, the play uncovers at the end the true message, that the important transformation is not done, nor even commenced. Mr. Higgins remains unchanged, he is the same cold-hearted, the barren iced-scientist, a vault empty of human kindness.

Much has been said about phonetics. In his preface to the play in 1912, Shaw himself writes: "The English have no respect for their language and will not teach their children to speak it (...). German and Spanish are accessible to foreigners: English is not accessible even to Englishmen". And despite his flare for correct speaking and phonetics, and his being well-involved in down-to-earth initiatives to make English "accessible to all", I dare say that he deluded all with Pygmalion.

The main, fundamental transformation to achieve is that out of human kindness. In one of the dialogues towards the end, Eliza asks Col. Pickering: "please, call me Eliza. You have done much to me... All details like standing before me, taking your hat off, or the first day I came here when you called me Miss Doolittle. Of course, you were not aware of such details: they all came naturally to you, from your generosity". Beautiful, isn't it?

Looks like that, right? It's delusion: the main transformation is under cover, all the phonetics stuff, a mere decoy. The important change is to be naturally generous men and women. And so, I think, this story can play an important role in transforming society (oh, the longed transformation of society): let's begin by being civil creatures. Let's start by recovering the value of genuine "please", "thank you" and "sorry"... Go ahead, you can start tomorrow in the tube and in the bus. In this sense, Pygmalion is fiercely active.

Oh, Lord, in this night with the scent of change and the smell of unsettleness, I say, like the Prophet Ezequiel: Take away my heart of stone and give me one made of flesh.

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