The Royal Family by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber

Source of book: I own this

 

George Kaufman was arguably the biggest name in Broadway comedy during his lifetime. I have previously discussed two of his plays, You Can’t Take It With You (with Moss Hart), and The Cocoanuts, which became a Marx Brothers smash. 

 

I ran across a Library of America edition of Kaufman’s comedies, and decided to read through them over time. These are all co-written, with Moss Hart and others. I decided to start at the beginning, with The Royal Family, which is one of three in this collection co-written by Edna Ferber. 

 

My previous experience with Edna Ferber was Giant, which was one of the most disappointing and frustrating classics I ever read. Not that it was bad - quite the opposite. It was a fine story while it lasted, but then it just…ended. It’s like Ferber got tired of it and just stopped writing. This was made more frustrating by the fact that the book opens with the big, dramatic scene, then has to go back in time to explain how we got there. And then once the explanation is complete, “The End.” 

 

The Royal Family is a “backstage” comedy - a behind the scenes look at actors and playwrights. In this case, it is the Cavendish family, an old acting family going back generations. There are three acts, the first two taking place over two days, and the third a year later. The central conflict is the decision of Gwen, the youngest female Cavendish, to give up acting [gasp!] so she can marry a man who would like to see her sometimes rather than be a stage-widower. [double gasp!]

 

This coincides with another crisis: young Tony, having run off to Hollywood, suddenly re-appears, pursued by a Breach of Promise suit [lawyers nerd out here] from a Polish actress. He sneaks into the house just ahead of the paparazzi, and needs to make an immediate escape to Europe. 

 

This triggers a third crisis for Julie, as she herself reconsiders whether the stage life is fulfilling for her. When her one-time beau reappears, now a businessman with interests in South America, she considers marrying him and taking her own departure. 

 

These crises are deeply upsetting to Fanny, the matriarch of the family, whose identity is tied up in being The Royal Family of the stage. Doing anything else is unthinkable. 

 

Kaufman takes this basic plot as the vehicle for poking fun at all facets of the stage, from egotistical playwrights to agents to modern staging to, well, everything. Nothing is sacred. 

 

I may have to give a few spoilers along the way, so sorry about that. A few of the best lines are a bit revealing, unfortunately. 

 

Kaufman doesn’t write endless and philosophical stage directions like George Bernard Shaw, but he does give detailed instructions for the set and costumes. The opening of the play is practically chaos, with people entering and exiting, offstage noises and voices, the doorbell and both phones ringing off the hook. Yes, TWO phones - one with an outside line, the other internal, to communicate with the servants. A running joke is that the person at the door is never the one the characters think it is. 

 

Tony turns out to already have a reputation about him, so his punching a director and being pursued by a lawsuit are no surprise to the family. This exchange is fun:

 

Julie: We’ve got to keep the newspapers off him. You know Tony and the papers. They’ve been laying for him ever since that Mauretania thing. 

Kitty: I must say I don’t blame them.

Dean: Yes, he never should have thrown that reporter overboard. 

Wolfe: It was a big mistake.

 

There is also a great line in the scene where Julie and Fanny are discussing Julie’s old beau, Gilbert, who is returning. 

 

Julie: I wonder what he’s like now. He may have grown very charming. South America, and millions, and perhaps a little grey here. (Touches her temple.) Sounds rather romantic.

Fanny: No more romantic now than he was nineteen years ago! Ah! What a siege that was!

Julie: And what a demon you were!

Fanny: I had to be. You thought because he looked serious and didn’t say much that he was doing a lot of deep thinking. I knew it was because he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

Julie: You certainly acted like a mother in a melodrama. 

 

As we find out in Act Three, Julie has decided to run off with Gilbert….after she finishes her epic run in a successful play, which is why we are a year later. We also learn that Gwen has married Perry, and they have a son. Fanny is in ill health, even if she won’t admit it, and the children want her to retire. Wolfe, the family’s long-time agent, realizes he is at risk for losing his best clients. 

 

Wolfe: So. You - Gwen - Fanny - that ends it, huh? And for you there’s no excuse. 

Julie: I’m going to be married, Oscar. That’s a pretty good excuse.

Wolfe: Tell me, what do you talk about when you’re with this fellow? The theatre he says he don’t care about. Imagine!

Julie: There are other things in the world beside the theatre.

Wolfe: Sure! But not  for you.

Julie: I want to relax, and play around, and have some fun.

Wolfe: Fun! Fun is work! It’s work that’s fun. You’ve had more fun in the last twenty years than any woman in America. 

It shouldn’t be a big surprise that the stage draws everyone back in by the end. Gwen finds she is bored by her baby, and misses the lights. Perry, fortunately, has come around. 

 

Gwen: Perry, you do feel alright about it, don’t you? Because if you don’t, I just won’t do it, that’s all.

Perry: Why, of course you’ll do it. What do a few weeks matter!

 

I can see a bit of my own marriage there. Three months after each kid was born, Amanda went back to work part time on night shift. She would have gone totally stir crazy if home had become her entire life. And, like Perry, I backed her up. 

 

At the very end, even baby Stewart is dragged in for a bit part. Fanny keeps referring to him as Aubrey, the historic family name associated with the greatest Cavendish of all time. 

 

Fanny: To Aubrey Cavendish!

Gwen: Stewart!

Fanny: That won’t stop him! He’s a Cavendish, and he’s going to carry on. We always have, and we always will. When one drops out there’s always another one to take his place. (A pause. She starts to repeat the last phrase, but in a different tone.) When one drops out, there’s always another - 

 

And this portends the ending a bit, which is darker than the preceding play would cause you to expect. But perhaps it is in the spirit after all: the people may change, but the Cavendish family lives on. The queen is dead. Long live the queen.