If this is a criticism of the acting profession, then it is a much milder
one than those of Plato and Rousseau (as Diderot no doubt would
acknowledge). In combination, these claims about the actor amount to
(1) that the purpose to which he is tied is, like that of the courtier, one
offlattering and bringing pleasure and (2) that he has little room for
independence beyond the pen of the poet and the whims of his audience;
hence, like the courtier, he is a kind of puppet. As for (1), we should
question whether the comparison with the courtier is really appropriate.
The point about courtiers is that they areuselessflatterers–and, even
more, that they might be damaging to the ruler, by constantly telling
him how good he is and how everything he does is right. This is not
exactly the actor’s role. As we’ve seen, the theatre does provide pleasure,
but this is hardly an objection in itself, without some further background
views; and, indeed, for many it is an advantage. Furthermore, many of the
most famous and popular plays, although bringing pleasure of a certain
kind, tell dark, unpleasant stories, which (to say the least) don’t tell us
flattering, unambiguously positive things about what it is to be human.
There’s no clear analogy with the courtier making the king feel good
about himself. As for (2): not many of us, in our working lives, have
complete independence in what we do. Whether it’s the demands of a boss,
of a company or institution, or even just of the market, complete freedom
to offend or please whomever we like sounds like a far-off dream. And
despite the frequent (and often unfavourable) comparisons made between
the actor and the puppet (or marionette), a successful or lasting substitu-
tion seems a long way off.^87
Conclusion
Even to pose questions about theatre and morals is to walk into a mine-
field of shifting moral belief and cultural practice; it is unlikely that we
would get to afinal message about theatre and morality, and it’s unclear
why we would want one. Theatrical performances don’t happen in isola-
tion–moral or otherwise–from our everyday experiences and our deep
cultural attitudes. But many ambitious claims have been made about the
ethics of theatre, from the rather grandiose defences of the school of
morals, to Rousseau’s savage attacks. We have now had a chance to look
at some of the main lines of argument. For the reasons we have discussed,
it is just as unlikely that theatre, taken as a whole, corrupts or improves:
where the moral message of a play is clear (which, often, it isn’t), that still
leaves the question of whether an audience will approve of that message
or be provoked into challenging it further–and, even if they approve,
there’s the question of whether their approval will translate into any
meaningful change. As for the charges against actors, we have seen that
A school of morals? 123