grounded. Instead, he says, although this reputation is probably deserved,
if we were to treat actors with more respect, then perhaps they would
behave a little better.^51 One wonders whether actors would have been
grateful for this defence. So far, we have considered two claims made on
theatre’s behalf–that it brings pleasure and that it can be morally instruc-
tive. In both cases, the arguments concern the effect that the plays have on
the audience. But, as D’Alembert’s remarks should serve to remind us,
there is an equally long and well-established tradition, at least among
critics of theatre, of targeting not the audience, but the actors. We are
certainly not thefirst generation to accuse actors of being shallow, self-
important, attention-seeking hypocrites, prone to histrionics, any more than
we are thefirst to accuse philosophers of being useless, bearded, impractical
dreamers.^52 We should recall, as noted in Chapter 1, that theatre is possible
without actors, perhaps without human performers too. Not all theatrical
performers impersonate, so criticisms relating to impersonation simply
would not arise under those circumstances. Nonetheless, acting–in the
sense of an actor playing a character–is familiar enough that concerns
about the ethics of acting shouldfind their place here.^53
When D’Alembert speaks of the barbarous prejudice against actors, he
might be looking to Greek sources for support. Plato (as we shall see)
speaks of the dangers, for actors, of engaging inmimesis. Even Aristotle,
for all his desire to defend theatre, acknowledges the vulgarity of acting
and of performance in general.^54 His response to this is to downplay
the actors’ importance: tragedy is fundamentally a matter of plot and
character–so it has its most significant effects when read. Thus in an
important sense, it needn’t be performed at all, and playwrights who rely
on the‘spectacle’of theatre are inferior.^55 In fact, the Greek disdain for
actors is, by later standards, relatively mild. Rousseau, feeling the need to
excuse this mildness, suggests that because the Greek actors were respected
citizens (as opposed to the Roman slaves or contemporary professionals),
male (as opposed to contemporary mixed troupes), and taking part in a
sacred festival (not an evening entertainment), there was less room for
contempt. However, the Romans treated actors with disdain, not only by
reputation, but also by law.^56 With the increased hostility from the
church towards theatre in general, the lot of the actor hardly improved. A
mediaeval English play specifically designates actors as agents of Satan,
and some Tudor townsfolk were so fearful of the corruption brought in by
actors that visiting troupes were quite often paid not to perform at all.^57
But for some of the more aggressive tirades against actors, D’Alembert
could look much closer to home–no further, in fact, than his fellow
Encyclopaedia editor, Denis Diderot. InThe Paradox of Acting, Diderot
claims to have great respect (in principle) for the profession of the actor;
but, he goes on to say:
114 From the Stage to the World