Today’s guest blogger is The Rev’d Dr. Paul F.M. Zahl. Paul is the former dean of Trinity School for Ministry and the author of Who Will Deliver Us? The Present Power of the Death of Christ, The Protestant Face of Anglicanism, A Short Systematic Theology, and Grace in Practice: A Theology of Everyday Life.
AN INTERESTING VOICE
William Inge (1913-1973) was an American playwright who achieved great success during the 1950s and ’60s. He wrote popular plays, and movies, such as “Picnic”, “Bus Stop”, “The Dark at the Top of the Stairs”, and “Splendor in the Grass”.
Inge came from small-town Kansas and knew its pre-Depression prosperity, based on oil, as well as its ‘dust-bowl’ poverty after 1929. He grew up within the conventional Christianity of the period and was interested by it, tho’ not an adult participant in it. In 1958, in a preface to an edition of his plays, he wrote, concerning “The Dark at the Top of the Stairs”, “I felt that maybe I was drawing a little on Christian theology to show something of the uniting effect human suffering can bring into our lives.” (xi)
William Inge became known, through his Broadway and also his Hollywood success, as an observer of intimate family life — wives and husbands, fathers and daughters, sons and mothers. He underlined certain core themes in relationships that had previously been suggested but not stated. Almost all of his plays depicted family routines that experience a crisis which reveals the true state of things. The crisis ends up becoming positive, we might say, in its effects, for most of the characters grow to a richer and credible hope as a result of the crisis.
Inge was actually accused of being over-optimistic, even tho’, when you read his plays today, they seem extremely true to life while at the same time offering credible hope and meaningful victories. I love William Inge.
Two quotes from Inge are especially apt for Christian readers. There are others, but these two are standouts. One is from his late novel My Son is a Splendid Driver (1971). In this passage, a thoroughly conventional 62-year-old married woman and mother of adult children has contracted a ‘social disease’ from her husband. It is small-town Kansas during the Great Depression. Her humiliation, shame, and misery are beyond words.
“Mother had stopped going to church. ‘Church isn’t the place to go with your troubles. Church is just a place to go when you’re feeling good and have a new hat to wear.’ There was a little bitterness in what she said, a little self-pity, but there was also truth. Our minister would have been the last person in the world she could have talked to, to have lifted the curse she felt upon her and saved her from feeling damned. She would have embarrassed the man into speechlessness had she gone to him with her story. He would have been unable to look at her or my father without coloring. Most of our morality, I was beginning to think, was based on a refusal to recognize sin. Our entire religious heritage, it seemed to me, was one of refusal to deal with it.” (153)
That is one amazing passage.
It catches an impression that many would have even today, that church is not a place for sinners but a place for overcomers. The writer has put his finger on a defect of understanding that still affects many churches. They do not always see themselves as hospitals for sufferers and sinners — especially Christian sinners!
In another place William Inge talks about what he is doing in his work. This is from his 1960 preface to the play “A Loss of Roses”:
“I feel that A Loss of Roses is a timely play. To be sure, it deals only with individuals, not representing any class or race struggle, not living with any consciousness of the atom bomb or of rockets to outer space. But it deals with individuals who, like people today seeking an inner peace in the midst of terrifying social change, must come to deal with evil in their lives, either to be destroyed or to find themselves strengthened. And I purposely set the play in the Depression because I feel that underneath our inflated prosperity today, there is a serious depression which we are struggling not to face. I feel that in A Loss of Roses, I have been able to make clearer than in any of my other plays a … view I have come to adopt during the last ten years, that man can only hope for an individual peace in the world; and like Whitman, ‘I swear nothing is good to me now that ignores individuals.’ All attempts to deal with men in groups, or as objects of time and environment, I think, fail.”
Note that Inge does not offer a solution to the problem of ‘individuals’ which he understands to outweigh in significance the problem of ‘groups’. But he does say, with humble clarity, that peace can only be achieved one person at a time. You may not agree with this fully, but I find it refreshing in an era when powers-that-be often seem to speak as if social engineering can make the world an intrinsically better place.
I recommend William Inge’s work to Christian readers.
Finally, I would recommend a masterpiece from this writer that the whole world admits to be one. It is the 1960 movie “Splendor in the Grass”, with Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty. Elia Kazan directed it, but it was Inge’s project and screenplay through and through.
There is an extra touch to this movie which makes it especially moving for me. William Inge requested that he play the part of the Episcopal minister in “Splendor in the Grass”. It is a small part but a revealing one. In one scene, Inge, as ‘The Reverend Whitman’, is conducting Morning Prayer in his church, to which most of the characters belong. He quotes the Offertory Sentence, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt and where thieves break through and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through and steal.”
The minister’s meaning is clear: these pre-Depression oil-rich Kansans are ‘making hay while the sun shines’, but they are wrong, wrong, wrong. The movie spells this out later.
In a short cameo a little later on, Inge, again as Mr. Whitman, seeks to comfort the Natalie Wood character, as she is praying in the church for her high-school sweetheart, who has become extremely sick.
The minister encourages the girl to pray as her heart tells her; and looks at her compassionately and almost wistfully. The camera set-up emphasizes the compassion of this well-intentioned minister.
That’s all you need to know to start on William Inge. He was not a genius. He was the victim of depression throughout his life, and at its end. He occasionally ‘trimmed his sails’ to avoid criticism or confrontation. But his heart was good, and much of his work is very good.
I close with the quote with which Inge prefaced his late novel My Son is a Splendid Driver. He wrote on the ascription page the following sentence from The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis:
“… woe to those who do not know their own misery and woe to those who love this wretched and corruptible life.”
Ladies and Gentlemen: I give you William Inge.







