pass before them long processions of tired
and oppressed people. The latter, also, have been generated by the
strong sun; but the light has gone out for them, and they travel on
life's highway without joy or faith, among those who are proud of
their beauty or learning. The "children of the sun" are the
aristocrats of the soul. They have but one end: to make life
beautiful, good, and agreeable for all. They continually think of
making it easier, of soothing suffering, and of preparing a better
future. Their mission is a large one. They are not idle, but are men
who have the most elevated ends in view.
Between "the children of the sun" and "the children of the earth"
there is a deep abyss. They do not understand each other. The
"children of the sun" cannot admit the miseries and ugliness of
daily life. They have compassion for the people who work below them.
The "children of the earth" feel the superiority of the "children of
the sun," but their narrow-mindedness, continually absorbed by the
necessity of finding shelter and food, cannot rise to the
preoccupations of so elevated an order. However, life brings these
two worlds together in a common work; but their mere meeting on the
ground of practical interests produces a collision.
A third category constitutes the intermediary link. This is made up
of the university people, the representatives of the liberal
professions. As "intellectuals," they cannot equal the "children of
the sun," but they can understand them. They conceive the grandeur
of their moral activity. At the same time, these men are close to
the people. They are often obliged to mingle in the life of the
people, and more than the "children of the sun," they are capable of
enlarging their minds and ennobling their duties. But, while they
know and understand the duties of the people completely, they are
not yet strong enough to help them. This, then, is the general
meaning of the play.
* * * * *
Although this play is cleverly constructed, with a last act which is
pathetic and moving in its intensity, and produces a profound
impression, on the whole, unfortunately, it has the general
harshness of problem plays. Under its lyric vestments, its solid and
massive character appears too often. Gorky, a born observer,
inheritor of the realistic traditions of his country, could not help
turning aside, one day, from this ideological art, visibly
influenced by Tolstoy's dramas. T
|