The links between a work of art and the society in which it was conceived are not easy to determine. Some will argue that any work of art is a direct product of the society in which it came to life, while others would limit its influence or pay more attention to the person who created it. Strange Interlude, which was written by Eugene O'Neill in 1927, is in many ways an echo of the American society of that time; but it should also be studied in a broader perspective because, through this play, the author addresses a basic principle that was mentioned when the founding fathers wrote the Declaration of Independence. Any reader or member of the audience has at the back of his or her mind a famous sentence, "We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness." The constant use of the adjective happy in the play, the many definitions of happiness given by the characters, and their recurrent questioning about the way to reach it echo the words of the Declaration, but also call into question the very possibility and interest of such a quest.

O'Neill's concern lay mainly with Nina Leeds, and his intention when writing Strange Interlude was probably not to expose what had been wrong in the formative years of American society. The action is supposed to take place after the First World War, and O'Neill's criticism is aimed at the society in which he lived. In his famous but unfinished cycle, A Tale of Possessors, Self-Dispossessed, he traced the Harford family back to the eighteenth century in an attempt to demonstrate what had been wrong in American society ever since the very beginning. Strange Interlude is different though, in that the action actually moves forward in time to forge a link between the famous principles on which American society rests and what is happening in the lives of the characters, his contemporaries.[1]

To begin, one could try to define the concept of happiness and analyze how each individual character tries to reach that state. In so doing, one would soon discover that, in fact, each one has a definition of this concept and that it changes with the passage of time. Instead of trying to compare the proffered definitions, a study of a single character, Sam Evans, can paradoxically be considered a model. Sam does not spend his time defining what being happy means, since for him it corresponds to a precise reality. He will be happy when his demands are met. One could summarize what he asks from life in three wishes: first, he hopes to marry Nina; then he wants to have a son; third, he seeks success in business. His three wishes are granted, and one can learn a great deal about what this fulfillment implies for him, and for the very idea of happiness.

Sam's marriage is part of a life project that can only be achieved if he becomes a father. Although he is not aware of the reason why he cannot have a son, he interprets it as his own failure. The importance given to this event that he believes prevents both him and Nina from being happy is such that he comes to see it as a matter of life and death for himself: "But I don't know for certain . . . that that's my fault . . . (then bitterly) Aw don't kid yourself, if she'd married someone else . . . if Gordon had lived and married her . . . I'll bet in the first month she'd . . . you'd better resign from the whole game . . . with a gun!" (716). Evans differs from many O'Neill characters that commit suicide, insofar as he cannot be quite sure he is completely responsible for the failure of his marriage. What is remarkable in this extract is the importance granted to the possibility of reaching a state of happiness, knowing that, should it be proved that it couldn't be reached and that his wishes have no chance of being realized, suicide would then be the best action for him to take. This attitude is not simply justified by Evans's state of depression. It corresponds to a common and prevalent idea of happiness as an invaluable thing that is shared by all the other protagonists.[2]

Evans's misery is short-lived because as soon as he learns about Nina's pregnancy he becomes another man, ready to meet the challenges that he had thus far been unable to face.

EVANS: (tenderly) Ned told me—the secret—and I'm so happy, dear! (he kisses her again.)

NINA: (stammering) Ned told you—what?

EVANS: (tenderly) That we're going to have a child, dear. You mustn't be sore at him. Why did you want to keep it a secret from me? Didn't you know how happy that would make me, Nina? (730)

To Sam, Darrell's words (referred to as Ned above) are a kind of "declaration of happiness." In the rest of his life he will change, get richer, and eventually become the successful businessman he had hoped one day to be. Strange Interlude is no light comedy, and Evans is not made fun of for his marital misfortune. Readers and spectators know about the illusory nature of his paternity. Exposing his blindness thus becomes a way of creating distance from the idea according to which being happy should be considered an enviable state. Indeed, in this scene, one finds an echo of Nina's earlier conversation with Charlie, when she had told him that living meant lying, the difference being Evans's genuine ignorance of what had actually happened between Nina and Darrell.[3] Marsden will occasionally make fun of Evans's naive beliefs; however, the latter is not presented as a fool, but rather corresponds to the portrait which had been drawn when he had first appeared on the stage.[4]

From the moment he thinks of himself as a father, Evans will embody fulfillment. Still, one must bear in mind that omniscient spectators cannot accept this portrait of a happy man. Generally O'Neill used thought asides to show what was going on in the characters' minds. Evans's case is different. His relatives and friends are the ones who disclose his misfortune because he himself does not know the truth. It cannot be revealed for reasons that are explained at length; but while in most cases the protagonists feel what is wrong, they dare not or cannot say it. Evans's case is unique since he impersonates a successful businessman who will never know that his life is built on a lie. That he should not be described as a simpleton is important as well, insofar as it proves that his naive attitude and his blindness are not presented as consequences of his stupidity. He is apart because he never guesses that something is wrong. However, his ordinariness causes him to become a symbol of humanity. Therefore, his dim-sightedness shows that human beings lack foresight and that they are often lured into believing that their vision of the world is the right one. In that way O'Neill resorted to a classical device of letting the audience know what is really going on, while the main protagonist is not aware of it. At the same time, O'Neill does not use it as a way of bringing comedy into the play. On the contrary, this aspect foreshadows another stage in his career, when he will lay stress on people's pipe dreams and will expose their willingness to be deluded in order to survive.

From this point of view, one can say that, contrary to what often happens in comedies, Evans is not turned into a fool because Nina committed adultery. It seems that the playwright's aim was not to present him as an exception. O'Neill once referred to Nina as an exceptional woman. In the play, Evans corresponds to the opposite insofar as he represents an ordinary man. This portrayal of ordinariness through a character should not come as a great surprise to O'Neill readers or spectators since one can trace a direct continuity to what he had expressed at the end of The Great God Brown (1925), when he made it clear that what had been shown was not simply the story of a man, but that it had wider implications.[5]

Even at this early stage of the play, Evans's fulfillment casts a shadow not simply on the pursuit of happiness, but on the very possibility of reaching a genuine state of well being which would not simply be the result of a more or less enduring state of blindness on the part of the person concerned. When I referred to Evans's desires at the beginning of this study, I said that they could be limited to three wishes. The first two have to do with his becoming a husband and a father. The third one is connected to the society he lives in, and is associated with the notion of success as defined in the following quotation:

EVANS: (embarrassed) Oh—me—I'm the boob of the family. (then hastily) Except when it comes to business. I'll make the money. (confidently) And you can bet your sweet life I will make it! (742)

The rest of the play will show Evans's financial development, but the shade that had appeared with his false belief in his fatherhood remains in the background. What is the value of his financial achievement? At the beginning of the play, the disorder and lower-class aspect of his home, Nina's father's house, reflected his inability to succeed, and stage directions clearly indicated the point O'Neill wished to make.[6] Hence the following question: Should wealth be considered a valid criterion by which to judge a character's success? Under the circumstances, the answer is no. If there is no doubt that poverty was linked with Evans's failure, wealth, on the other hand, is in no way to be considered as proof of his success. Still, there is an obvious difference from his pseudo-fatherhood since his financial achievement cannot be denied. Through the scenery and his speech, one comes to understand that Evans is not childishly boastful about the money he has made. In the beginning, even if the audience did not look down on him for his boyish naiveté, they did know that his happiness was not as real as he thought. Can one expect the same attitude from people when it comes to evaluating Evans's conquest of the business world? Judged by traditional American standards, he is a success; but O'Neill does not share this point of view. What follows Evans's speech to Marsden, in which he explains what his aims are, indicates that the author does not approve of this ambition. If one were to put a label on it, one might go so far as to call it "the pursuit of emptiness." As opposed to what happened with Nina's adultery, O'Neill did not seem to think that audiences would automatically level a similar judgment at Evans. This is the reason why he has Marsden criticize Evans, showing that his becoming rich is not necessarily something of which to be proud.

I preferred him the old way . . . futile but he had a sensitive quality . . . now he's brash . . . a little success . . . oh, he'll succeed all right . . . his kind are inheriting the earth . . . hogging it, cramming it down their tasteless gullets! . . . and he's happy! . . . actually happy! (735)

In this extract Marsden plays the part of a judge. It is not an uncommon role for him, as he often comments on other characters' deeds. In doing so he launches a very strong attack against what one may consider a key figure in American society, the successful businessman. O'Neill had already tried to show the limits of a society based on greed in Marco Millions (1924), establishing a simplistic dichotomy between Eastern spirituality and Western materialism. One could also find an echo of this opposition in the contrasting attitudes of Marsden and Evans. But what the author put forward here is a misreading of the Declaration of Independence, by a man who impersonates a perfect American businessman. Success should not be thought of in those terms. Although Evans is not a main character, the judgment that is passed on him is very important. Apparently, he abides by the rules that are set by society, but in the course of the play he ends up being presented as a failure because, like most of his fellow citizens, he misinterpreted the rules, confusing material gain with success. Strange Interlude is no plea for idleness either, but what is praised is selflessness, when the individual manages to get rid of egotism and stops acting solely for personal profit.[7]

Contrary to Evans, Darrell tries to work for the common good and finds a personal satisfaction in his selfless action. Evans's involvement in the community is of a different nature, but neither of them is seen as being taken in by a general social movement that would be profitable for them. In other words, society as such cannot be expected to bring happiness to the individual.[8] This is consistent with Nina's opinion, given later in the play, when she rejects the possibility of anyone or for that matter anything bringing happiness to an individual:

And I'm going to be happy! I've lost everything in life so far because I did not have the courage to take it—and I've hurt everyone around me. There's no use trying to think of others. One human being can't think of another. It's impossible. (gently and caressingly) But this time I'm going to think of my own happiness—and that means you—and our child! (726)

The possibilities of a universal state of happiness are but slender, and Nina heavily stresses the impossibility of a general definition of that universally but eclectically sought-after state. Individualism becomes the key word, since throughout the play each character tries to find a way to obtain what he or she wants and attempts to obtain that result without always behaving in what would usually be called a fair way.[9]

The varied, never-ending search for happiness is a constant reminder of the words of the Declaration, and all the characters try to reach that stage where they can claim to have found happiness. If one finds it hard to offer a uniform definition of this concept because of its unending changes in the course of the play, one has to note that many protagonists feel they have discovered what it means at various times in their lives. In Sam's case, we saw how deluded he was about the very reasons that made him believe he had reached his goal. However, Nina's project is different. She is aware that she will have to act in order to change her life, which in the beginning is characterized by suffering. In this respect, she illustrates Schopenhauer's point of view that man's estate is defined by permanent suffering. According to Schopenhauer, a state of happiness is not natural; so it can only be achieved for a short duration. Therefore, Nina's struggle consists of finding a way to reach that dynamic state. Although we noted earlier that the outside world per se could not bring ready-made bliss to individuals, the fact that people are members of a community with its own laws, which have to be respected, must be taken into account.

In Strange Interlude, once the characters have decided that they are entitled to their own happiness, they are confronted by the rules of the society in which they live. However, the relevance of these laws is determined by their compatibility with the basic principle of the pursuit of happiness. There is no clash with liberty as it is implied in the Declaration since the protagonists insist on their right to make choices. On the other hand, abortion becomes a key issue in the play (not that Strange Interlude should be seen as a starting point for a debate on pro-life vs. pro-choice issues). What is striking is that it helps show that the laws and principles respected by people who would oppose such drastic behavior are irrelevant. Still, not all moral values are rejected; the fact that Nina's suffering should be taken into account is very important for her future redemption. Indeed, from an O'Neillian perspective, since the loss of her child is not presented as an easy way out, the result is that she is not completely crushed by guilt after the abortion has been performed; and this will enable her to gradually return back to life.

MRS. EVANS: (with decision) Being happy, that's the nearest we can ever come to knowing what's good! Being happy, that's good! The rest is just talk! (690)

The issue is not really discussed at length. Mrs. Evans sympathizes with Nina, but her speech is very assertive and the basic values upon which society rests are considered simply irrelevant. O'Neill had already dealt with that topic in 1914, in a play called Abortion; but through that theme he had not intended to call into question the validity of the whole social system. The assertiveness of Mrs. Evans's speech shows that hers is not simply a passing or casual remark.[10] Her authority comes from age and from her desire to see her son happy in his marriage.[11] Like Professor Leeds at the end of act 1, she is speaking for Nina and Sam's good. Although what she says is unexpected, it is all the stronger for her position, and it is a very forceful attack on the basic values of society.

"In God we trust." Mrs. Evans considers this belief, which is at the very root of American society, a thing of the past. Fate, or more simply the lives of people, are presented as sad illustrations of the harshness of this god.[12] One should not forget that Mrs. Evans's radical move—rejecting God—does not mean that the characters are living in a godless universe. It is important, however, to note that this quest for happiness will be linked with the definition of a new god. In fact, Mrs. Evans is not asking Nina not to believe in God. She is merely telling her that the moral prison, which is built around those who believe, need not be accepted.

This criticism of commonly held Puritan principles, which ruled American society, is an indirect assertion that people are blind, since paradoxically—if one bears in mind the sayings of the Declaration of Independence—following these rules can only make them unhappy. Mrs. Evans's refusal to consider standard moral principles as valid is a first stage. After her abortion, Nina explains to Darrell that he had suggested the wrong remedy. At that stage, Nina is still divided about what she should do. Her mother-in-law's advice is not easy to follow, and when Darrell comes to see her she explains that her present state of unhappiness is due to her inability to get rid of her moral scruples.

NINA: But she is ashamed. It's adultery. It's wrong.

DARRELL: (moving away again—with a cold sneering laugh of impatience) Wrong! Would she rather see her husband wind up in an asylum? Would she rather face the prospect of going to pot mentally, morally, physically herself through year after year of devilling herself and him? Really, Madame, if you can't throw overboard all such irrelevant moral ideas, I'll have to give up this case here and now! (711)

In his speech, Darrell is the representative of a new era. Without mentioning what Mrs. Evans had said about God, he agrees with her insofar as he rejects Nina's vision of good and evil because, according to him, the means of getting what she wants do not really matter. What is important is reaching the goal, which will enable Sam and Nina to be happy. Here again tradition is rejected as irrelevant. Moreover, Ned's point of view is reinforced by the fact that he does not advocate a rejection of all moral order; he merely says that she should abide by the rules which science has defined.[13] Using the French word "Madame" may also be an indirect way of stressing that other countries do not adhere to the same moral principles, which helps to show that those insisted upon by Puritanism may not be the right ones.[14]

It is important to note that in making his characters act and live, O'Neill does not simply try to write another political play in which to expose the fallacy of what one might call the American Dream. Their very lives will illustrate what had been asserted at the beginning of the play, that the moral laws, commonly thought of as being the right ones for the good of humanity, prove destructive to the individual. At the same time, the playwright shows the limits of beliefs put forward by some characters, and little by little revises their definitions of both desire and happiness.

After showing the hindrances to individual happiness, it seems necessary to devote some attention to the evocation of what were considered periods of fulfillment by the protagonists.

DARRELL: Christ! . . . touch of her skin! . . . her nakedness! . . . those afternoons in her arms! happiness! (720)

There is a gap between Darrell's first scientific speech, in which he had advocated Nina's mating with a healthy male (treating people like guinea pigs, or trying to do so), and his current thoughts. His hedonist speech signals the end of what had been a more or less feigned indifference. The initial reasons for their meetings have long since been forgotten. What prevails now is the remembrance of a physical union in which they were able to reach a state of happiness. Love is not mentioned. Darrell only remembers the union of their bodies and carnal pleasure without guilt or shame.[15] Nina's nakedness symbolizes the success of their union. One need only remember The Great God Brown and Dion's attempt at taking off his mask when Margaret comes next to him to see how important Nina's nakedness becomes.[16] Not every member of the audience had seen The Great God Brown, and what probably prevailed was another important element—the fact that adultery, far from being condemned, is valued in this extract.

Even if some people found this matter shocking, one may assert that O'Neill did not wish to meet with success for the wrong reasons, and that keeping censors busy was not his main target.[17] What is stated in the play is that fulfillment can be positive, even when reached in ways condemned by traditional moral values. In the previous quotation what remained latent was that the lovers were able to find unity, to form a whole that, in the O'Neillian view, is the sign of happiness. Both of them remember these scenes, but they now belong to the past, and they are unable to regain their previous state of harmony. Not that this should come as a surprise. There is no need of a Schopenhauerian background to consider that happiness cannot last, and that its main characteristic lies in its ephemeral nature.[18] However, one should also bear in mind that if unity is the goal, it is no easy task since the personality of the individual is generally divided, and fulfillment implies that various demands be satisfied.

NINA: My three men! . . . I feel their desires converge in me! . . . to form one complete beautiful male desire which I absorb . . . and am whole . . . they dissolve in me, their life is my life . . . I am pregnant with the three! . . . husband! . . . lover! . . . father! and the fourth man! . . . little man! . . . little Gordon! . . . he is mine too! . . . that makes it perfect [. . .] Why, I should be the proudest woman on earth! . . . I should be the happiest woman in the world! (756)

Unity is what really matters, and Nina's quest consists in reaching it forever. However, for obvious reasons such harmony cannot last, and the characters soon find themselves deprived of what had enabled them to achieve what they had been looking for. Nina's definition of her needs is very O'Neillian in that it corresponds to those of her male counterparts. In other words, O'Neill has often been reproached for being a male chauvinist because he considered that a man's ideal companion had to be at the same time his "wife, mistress, mother and friend." One can see here that he believed this heterogeneous desire corresponded to people's basic needs, and that in this respect, their being male or female did not really matter. Here again, however, a lover as one of Nina's legitimate needs goes against traditional family values and Puritan principles. Even if the goal was not to shock, but rather to show that happiness could only be reached through a feeling of unity, the way it was presented could not but be felt as an attack against standard American values.

However, one should not interpret the play solely in terms of conflict with society. It seems to me that it aims to give a new interpretation of what one should understand by the word happiness. There is no denying that O'Neill's vision clashes with what was commonly understood as "the pursuit of happiness." He pays no heed to appearances, and claims that what matters is deep unity, union with the whole, and that humanity's relationship with the world cannot be satisfactory unless harmony prevails.

NINA: . . . my child moving in my life . . . my life moving in my child . . . the world is whole and perfect . . . all things are each other's . . . life is . . . and this is beyond reason . . . questions die in the silence of this peace . . . I am living a dream within the great dream of the tide . . . breathing in the tide I dream and breathe back my dream into the tide . . . suspended in the movement of the tide, I feel life move in me, suspended in me . . . no whys matter . . . there is no why . . . I am a mother . . . God is a Mother . . . (715)

It would be hard to be any more explicit or emphatic about stressing the importance of unity than that. Through what is being described here, one gets a clearer view of what O'Neill had in mind; and this extract should help us understand the ending of the play.

Indeed, whenever Nina was fulfilled she broke away with the notion that she was an individual, separated from the rest of the world, but was united with someone or something which went beyond the limits of her own personality. Here, bliss is the result of her pregnancy. Becoming a mother enables her to reach a state of harmony. This unity with a whole is akin to a pantheistic vision; and the protagonists can only be happy when they understand that they are part of a whole. Nina's allusions to the tide, to a kind of superior movement, have a very strong Taoist touch as well. What she says—"life is," reminds one of Kukachin's words in Marco Millions.[19] These Taoist undertones are not opposed to the previously mentioned pantheistic vision—the Eastern view, whether Buddhist or Taoist, shares the idea of unity with a whole—and adds that the specific existence of the ego is a misconception. Putting an end to one's desires and accepting selflessness should, from a Buddhist perspective, too, be the way to happiness, but most critics see in Nina's final behavior a wish to die more than a lesson learned.

Nevertheless, O'Neill's solution involves divorcing oneself from the cosmic ruling principle, the Will, to find peace. This causes the fatalistic resignation of Strange Interlude's last act, where the pursuit of happiness is sacrificed in order to achieve contentment. In oriental mysticism, however, happiness and peace both reside in the serenity that lies at the center of the cosmos. Obviously the play's characters never achieve this bliss; and O'Neill's own inability to maintain contentment identifies him and this play as tragically typical of our modern occidental world.[20] James Robinson's pessimistic interpretation is close to that of Doris Alexander's.[21] It is not surprising that it should be so, since both of them refer to Schopenhaeur's philosophy even though Robinson underlined some specifically Buddhist elements in the play.

However, one should not overemphasize the negative aspects of the last scene. Indeed, by renouncing selfish desire, Marsden has reached his aim—that of becoming Nina's husband—without trying to reach it. He does not want to possess her, to "own" her, if we remember Darrell's words.[22] Even though Schopenhauer influenced O'Neill, it seems to me that the ending of the play shows some first steps towards happiness. In fact, what had been condemned in the "pursuit of happiness" was mainly the pursuit itself: people's wish to get hold of something or someone. This was illustrated in various ways. "Contentment," for instance, was used to characterize Evans's misunderstanding, showing that what he mistook for happiness was only vulgar and down-to-earth satisfaction. However, if O'Neill's project were to call attention to the fact that the pursuit of happiness could not be reached when people understood this quest only in personal and selfish terms, he also pointed out that once selfish desires were abandoned and unity with one's partner or with the world as a whole was reached, there was room for a more optimistic vision of life.[23] Showing his characters deprived of greed, he gives the audience a hint: there is indeed a way to happiness, but it can only be found once one has renounced selfish urges, which lead first to delusion and eventually to disillusion.

NOTES

1. I partly agree with Travis Bogard's statement that no more revealing evidence is needed to demonstrate O'Neill's tendency to look at life without reference to a society; to tell his story only in terms of personality. See Travis Bogard, Contour in Time: The Plays of Eugene O'Neill, rev. ed. (New York: Oxford UP, 1988) 306. There is no denying that he does not pay attention to everyday life. On the other hand, I feel that the characters' quest for happiness echoes the words of the Declaration.

2. Darrell also insists on this point of happiness, in a way which, in other circumstances, would look like an exaggeration: [T]here are things one may not do and live with oneself afterwards . . . there are things one may not say . . . memory is too full of echoes! . . . there are secrets one must not reveal . . . memory is lined with mirrors! . . . he was too happy! . . . to kill happiness is a worse murder than taking life! (754). Previously, Marsden's thoughts reveal his devotion to Nina: "I'd give my life to make her happy!" (740). Nina, too, agrees that happiness is uppermost, as seen in her refusal to take into account common moral principles concerning abortion and adultery: "I've written his mother I'm making him happy . . . I was proud to be able to write her that . . . how queerly things work out! . . . all for the best . . . and I don't feel wicked . . . I feel good" (734).

3. Nina says to Charlie: "With you the lies have become the only truthful things. And I suppose that's the logical conclusion to the whole evasive mess, isn't it? Do you understand me, Charlie? Say lie—(She says it, drawing it out) L-i-i-e! Now say life. L-i-i-f-e! You see! Life is just a long drawn out lie with a sniffing sigh at the end!" (668).

4. Marsden appraises Evans: "This is certainly no giant intellect . . . overgrown boy . . . likeable quality though" (657).

5. The police discover the body of Billy Brown:

CAPTAIN: (comes just into sight at left and speaks front without looking at them— gruffly) Well, what's his name?

CYBEL: Man! (533)

6. In the professor's old study at the beginning of act 4: "The table has become neurotic. Volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica mixed up with popular treatises on Mind Training for Success, etc., looking startlingly modern and disturbing against the background of classics in the original, are slapped helter-skelter on top of each other on it" (692). Three months later, at the beginning of act 5, the scene shifts to Evans's rented suburban house outside New York: "Nina has tried to take the curse of offensive banal newness off the room with some of her own things from her old home but the attempt has been halfhearted in the face of such overpowering commonness, and the result is a room as disorganized in character as was the Professor's study in the last Act" (714).

7. Darrell explains what the ultimate aim ought to be:

NINA: (forcing a smile) So tell me what fountain of youth you've found.

DARRELL: (proudly) That's easy. Work! I've become as interested in biology as I once was in medicine. And not selfishly interested, that's the difference. There's no chance of my becoming a famous biologist and I know it. (785)

8. This point of view will be illustrated by Simon Harford's aborted project in More Stately Mansions, when he tries to draw the plans of an ideal society. When it comes into existence he becomes a tycoon and it assumes a nightmarish outlook.

9. At the very beginning of the play, Marsden states this very clearly: "(thinking) The square thing! . . . but we must all be crooks where happiness is concerned! . . . steal or starve!" (640).

10. What she says is very Zarathustrian. I mentioned Schopenhauer already, but she is not the only one who has Nietzschean characteristics! As Darrell says, "happiness hates the timid!" (711).

11. Indeed, Mrs. Evans's radical vision of society has many points in common with that of Richard Miller in Ah, Wilderness! His views are presented as those of a teenager who is trying to assert himself and therefore should not really be taken seriously. Her point of view, on the contrary, is presented as a valid one, her age and past suffering indicating that at the end of her life she has reached a wisdom that is only given to those who have gone through the harsh vicissitudes of life.

12. Mrs. Evans states forcefully: "And I don't believe in Him, neither, not any more. I used to be a great one for worrying about what's God and what's devil, but I got richly over it living here with poor folks that was being punished for no sins of their own, and me being punished with them for no sin but loving much" (690).

13. Darrell claims: "This woman's duty is to save her husband and herself by begetting a healthy child!" (711). The word "duty" used here is important because it shows that she can act without feeling guilty.

14. Perhaps one should not overemphasize this matter, but one can note that in More Stately Mansions, France is associated with illegitimate relationships, and that in All God's Chillun Got Wings French people transgress another sexual taboo, since they are said not to object to interracial marriages.

15. His feelings are shared by Nina at the end of act 5, the last lines of the first part of the play: "Oh, afternoons . . . dear wonderful afternoons of love with you, my lover" (732).

16. In an inverted way, Evans and Nina's relationship is very close to that which exists between Margaret and Dion:

MARGARET: Dion! (she comes running in, her mask in her hands, He springs toward her with outstretched arms but she shrinks away with a frightened shriek and hastily puts on her mask Dion starts back. She speaks coldly and angrily) Who are you! Why are you calling me? I don't know you! [. . .]

DION: (with a final pleading whisper) Margaret! (but she only glares at him contemptuously. Then with a sudden gesture he claps his mask on and laughs wildly and bitterly.) Ha-ha-ha! That's one on you, Peg!

MARGARET: (with delight, pulling off her mask) Dion! How did you ever—Why, I never knew you! (481)

17. For a detailed analysis of O'Neill's relations with censorship concerning Strange Interlude, see Madeline C. Smith and Richard Eaton, "Everything's Up to Date in Kansas City," Eugene O'Neill Review 16.1 (Spring 1992): 71-84.

18. Nina's quest for happiness throughout the play, and Darrell's throughout a large portion of it, their inability to retain it once they have experienced it, is a component of the atmosphere of futility, disillusionment, exhaustion, and impotence that pervades the last act. But, like the discoveries that passion diminishes, that one grows old, the realization that happiness is a product of the imagination is of neither philosophical nor of tragic significance. See Edwin Engel, The Haunted Heroes of Eugene O'Neill (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1953) 223. The fleeting specificity of happiness is shown. However, I feel that Edwin Engel's interpretation of the conclusion of Strange Interlude does not correspond to what occurs when the play draws to a close.

19. At the end of act 2, Kukachin speaks in verse: "(her face now a fatalistic mask of acceptance) / I am not. / Life is" (448).

20. See James A. Robinson, Eugene O'Neill and Oriental Thought: A Divided Vision (Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, 1982) 161.

21. For Schopenhauer there is only one way to escape from, one way to triumph over, the meaningless striving of the will to live, and that is by the denial of the will to live. It is with a denial of that will on the part of his principal characters that O'Neill concludes Strange Interlude. See Doris Alexander, "Strange Interlude and Schopenhauer," The Critical Response to Eugene O'Neill, ed. John H. Houchin (Westport CT: Greenwood Press, 1993) 110.

22. Halfway through the play, Darrell fears that his admission of love for Nina will lead to her domination of him. He resists: ". . . but I don't love her! I won't! . . . She can't own my life!" (721).

23. The fact that Nina and Charlie should be together, outside, makes one think of the ending of Beyond the Horizon, when Robert can finally feel he belongs with nature; or, in a different way, of Desire Under the Elms, when in the last scene unity is found at last. What Nina says could seem paradoxical, because despite appearances, at the end of the play, happiness is at hand, as she says: "Peace! . . . yes . . . that is all I desire . . . I can no longer imagine happiness" (814-15). In fact, there is logic behind this apparent paradox, which makes one think of the characters' attempts at fleeing from truth. When they think they have safely secured a lie (pipe-dream), they unexpectedly meet with reality, and have to build new defenses again.

WORKS CITED

O'Neill, Eugene. Complete Plays 1920-1931. Ed. Travis Bogard. Vol. 2. New York: Library of America, 1988.