THE SPICE OF LIFE

Morsieur Perrin, according to his report on another page, appears to have been put in a quandary over American theatrical tastes by New York and its audiences. Having formed through many years of observation a theory that Americans feast delicately upon quiet and refined concoctions, what was his consternation to find that, after all, the Grand Guignol players must serve highly spiced preparations to attract a crowd. Moreover, he is struck by the oddity that staid American audiences "run wild" in Paris by going to see the somewhat strong repertoire which the Grand Guignol presents there.

Perhaps on both points M. Perrin has not looked deeply enough into the American character. Paris has, whether rightly or wrongly, through stage quips and La Vie. Parisienne, gained a world-wide reputation for naughtiness. This is no great wonder for in the summer, when emigration from the United States is at its peak, all good Parisians go to their watering places leaving Paris no longer French but almost American. The French who remain speak English, play up to the visitors, and give them at least half their money's worth. With such a reputation Paris naturally becomes a lode-stone to New Englanders heavily burdened with consciences, to Westerners fresh from their slavery on the farms, to New Yorke's anxious to be rid of their encumbrance of gold. On to the Grand Guignol, the Folies Bergeres, Monmartre and Zelli's! The Americans make the reputation, the reputation brings the American. And if one didn't "do" Paris, there would be no sense in going nor any tales to bear home.

As for the American audience in its rative habitat, it is not a homogeneous thing. For instance, lines and costumes which are all right in New York are far from all right in Boston. In fact the New York audience is a thing apart. Managers who have carried new plays successfully through preliminaries in Chicago or San Francisco tremble in their boots before the first night in New York. It could not be otherwise for cities which are famished for plays cannot be chooses, while the inhabitants of New York with forty productions of all kinds competing for their favor naturally assume the air of pampered darlings, whom often only the novel or the ultra-risque will force into enthusiasm. But let the Grand Guignol come to Boston then it can wear all of its refinement.