THE PLAYGOER

A lank figure with a stove-pipe hat has been doing an inordinate amount of stalking through the American scene of late. In our time, when democratic theories are coming in for more than their share of doubt, Abraham Lincoln, hero of democracy par excellence, has become an important symbol at the expense of the man himself. Great eulogies and great debunkings have been poured over his faded memory, rearing him into some abstract, semi-divine legend. In the play, "Abo Lincoln in Illinois," two men--Robert Sherwood, playwright, and Raymond Massey, actor--have striven to bring him back to life.

Whether their interpretation is accurate or not, no one can really tell, but anyone who has seen the play can readily tell that they have brought a vivid personality to life. Mystic, tragic, almost pathetic, their Lincoln is haunted by a trauma of youth, heckled by a shrewish wife, driven into the White House almost against his will, yet ostensibly he is just a backwoods politician with canny horse-sense and a flair for fence-sitting. None of the rampant idealism usually attributed to Lincoln colors the Sherwood-Massey characterization, and for that reason the play might be considered derogatory, but "unemotional" seems to be a better word to describe their approach. Well polished by a year's experience on Broadway, "Abe Lincoln in Illinois" is on its way to becoming an American classic.