Building
Fund" is comedy. That is, it is comedy as Ibsen sees drama, or character
farce as Coleridge defines it. It is, in the Greek sense, perhaps even
tragedy; certainly, it is tragedy from the standpoint of Shan and
Sheila, for circumstances certainly get the better of them. From Mrs.
Grogan's standpoint it is comedy, for she, through her will, even though
she is now dead, has got the better of circumstances as represented by
the plotting of her son and granddaughter. If we look at "The Building
Fund" from the standpoint of Shan and Sheila, but without sympathy for
them, it is only character farce, for although circumstances get the
better of them, we do not then care for them, and a play in which
characters are overwhelmed by fate, but in which our sympathy is not
with them, is, if we follow Coleridge, really farce. Whatever "The
Building Fund" is, its characterization is admirable. Some might say its
men and women approximate to types, that Mrs. Grogan is the avaricious
old woman, Shan the sanctimonious miser, Sheila the sly minx, Michael
the benevolent old man, and Dan the gay blade. Types or not, you will
find all of them in Ireland, and all of them wherever human nature is
human nature. If they are types, however, each has a personality, but
whether all of them would stand out with such individuality had one not
seen them so fully realized on the stage, I cannot say. The tottering,
bitter old woman of Miss Allgood and the miserly, fearful son of Mr.
Sinclair are more memorable than the other impersonations only in that
they are fatter parts than Sheila, Michael O'Callaghan, and Dan
MacSweeney, played respectively by Miss McGee, Mr. O'Rourke, and Mr.
O'Donovan.

Mother and son are, I am sure, just as complete in the writing of Mr.
Boyle as in the acting of Miss Allgood and Mr. Sinclair. Both are,
indeed, as finely imagined and as faithfully realized as any characters
in modern English comedy. And you may have to go further afield than
modern English comedy to find such a minute study of resentful and
malevolent age as this portrait of Mrs. Grogan. We all know that
perversity that will not allow its possessor to be satisfied with any
effort to please. Here is an illustration of it as Mr. Boyle has seen
it:--

_Sheila_. Will I boil an egg for your breakfast, granny?

_Mrs. Grogan_ (_sarcastically_). Oh, to be sure! More extravagance.
You know very well I couldn't eat it, and you'll have it for