The following is typical of the older generation’s response to the new order. It is a perfectly consistent letter, a perfectly sincere one, and a perfectly impossible one. But it is not to be taken so lightly as it deserves: first, because it has all the poison the younger generation hates most; second, because its perplexities are perfectly natural ones; and third, because education, in order really to be effective, must begin upon just such attitudes. It may be as well to answer at least one of the writer’s arguments by quoting Shaw. In his new preface, in a chapter called The Risks of Ignorance and Weakness, he says very neatly: “The difficulty with children is that they need protection from risks they are too young to understand, and attacks they can neither avoid nor desist. You may on academic grounds allow a child to snatch glowing coals from the fire once. You will not do it twice. The risks of liberty we must let everyone take; but the risks of ignorance and self-helplessness are another matter. Not only children but adults need protection from them.” Following the mother’s letter is one from a boy which ought to throw some light on the subject from the young generation’s standpoint.
Margaret Pixlee, Indianapolis:
I feel impelled to reply to your article entitled The Renaissance of Parenthood. I wonder what could have been the home-life of such a girl as you quote from, that she should write that kind of a letter. Shaw says, “there is nothing so futile or so stupid as to try to control your children.” Your opinion that Shaw’s ideas are “glorious” shows at once that you have only touched the surface of what motherhood is. Can you honestly believe that a parent is doing his duty if he allows a child to rush in front of a moving automobile attracted by the bright lights, knowing nothing of the danger ahead—which certainly would mean death if the child had its own way? Irrespective of what Shaw or Ellen Key write, it is the parents’ absolute duty to train and educate a child until he is capable of using his own reasoning powers. And, too, there is but one way. Principle and Truth with Love and Charity are the only way. Let me here quote from your article on Emma Goldman. If you do not agree with Emma Goldman, you say in effect, let us at least be broadminded and see both sides. But are you doing this? From my point of view, you seem to take the side only of free thinking, and, as you call it, independent thought. There is no independent thought, except doing right. I can see your point of view. As we look about us among the people of the social world, many are indeed selling their children in marriage to some man for the petty consideration of high social position and money. Many times when an engagement is announced the first question is how well off is the man, instead of what are his principles and is he worthy of the girl. These poor children are indeed the offspring of foolish parents, and are to be pitied. If as they advance on life’s highway they are given to see what principle means, then is it right to separate and go their own way? We all must develop the spiritual within; but to break loose from home ties, as this girl seems to desire, from selfishness alone, will lead to a worse death than that of being crushed by the automobile. I have admitted that to sell a child in wedlock to a man whose only attraction is a fat bank account and social position is crime of the blackest. But taking the other course is equally as bad, for passionate love is always selfish and soon burns out. Let us consider for one moment a child born out of wedlock. As I understand it, so-called free thinkers consider this right. They disregard the law, and honestly think they have done a fine thing. “All for love and the world well lost.” A daughter is born, and from some remote ancestor she inherits a love of the conventional. Can you picture to yourself what the suffering would be to see the daughter you love an outcast always from the things she cares for through what you call the grand passion—nothing more or less than the supreme selfishness of two human beings, no matter what you and the girl you are privileged to quote from “think you believe”? It will not be possible to do the deeds you write about as they are portrayed by free thinkers. Truth will be revealed to your innermost self. You cannot do otherwise than follow the Divine Revelation, which alone leads to real happiness, for all material pleasures are swept away sooner or later.
A boy reader, Chicago:
In the preface of his latest Quintessence of Ibsenism, Shaw expresses his astonishment that the book changed peoples’ minds. He has perhaps by now collected abundant evidence that his books really have changed peoples’ minds and whole life courses. What would, perhaps, be more astonishing to him is the fact that the first hearing of one of his plays did it—and without the aid of a preface.
Fanny’s First Play started me thinking about family relationship. Long before the play was published, with the lengthy preface on parents and children, the very things he advises were happening. The preface was undoubtedly written after long contemplation of the play—as was my action; proving that the generalizations he makes are not as impossible or absurd as the family egotist so pathetically argues.
I do not doubt that this play, the beginning of my knowledge of Shaw, was the most important event of my youth. It is, of course, most important as a woman’s play, but why Margaret Knox’s revolt could not be mine I do not see.
The family in which I was being “brought up” was all that Shaw says the present day family is—and worse, for there were also brothers and a sister to aid in the “bringing up.” These were all brought up in dutiful submission to mother’s influence and father’s care. They had “arrived” or gone just as far as they ever thought of going just as I was starting for my goal. Their present condition had received parental commendation; but what I saw, on looking about me, made me shudder—and think. I would find out the reason for their condition and see if their fate was to be mine. Of one thing I was certain:—if “family duty” or “filial piety” were responsible for the state of things I would have none of it—and I said so.
“You’ll see—you’ll bump your head some day; you’ll see what good it does to have foolish visions or dreams; you just do what you’re told and you’ll be better off. Mother and father know more than you—they’re older.” All this I had patronizingly handed out to me. Somehow all this was horrible to me—this idea of contemplating a future such as theirs—a colorless life built on “doing what you’re told” and not “having foolish dreams.” For it struck me as an existence that mocked the very system that was responsible for it. The only thing by which I could judge the worth of the advice was the finished result.
Of course when I presented my case to my parents I was met with that attitude always displayed toward youthful self-assertion. To make my case clear to their somewhat bewildered minds I drew up a list of grievances: there were thirty-three concrete faults in the existing order that must be stamped out or radically changed.