Pygmalion is a play that I read. It was a read, that’s for sure. I did not hate consuming it, nor did I particularly enjoy either. I don’t think there’s ever been a book that I’ve felt so little towards in my literary history. So when it comes to writing out my personal feelings toward it, I’m stuck. As I’m writing this late, I read some of the other responses from my classmates. Some compared it to A Doll’s House and I thought maybe I’d write about that. I even began to plan out a discussion about the inherent power of men, and how Mr. Higgins has no respect for the people around him. These texts I could write would not be very personal though, and I’d get caught up in the analytical practices of writing, which isn’t the goal. After reflecting over a couple of days, I think I know why I didn’t have much of an opinion on it; there wasn’t time for me to collect my thoughts.
The time skip that cuts Eliza’s vocal process out of the story bothered me. If Shaw wanted to show portray a story of mistreatment and lack of cultural respect, then he should’ve shown her training. The sudden change to already testing her skills at Mrs. Higgins’s at-home day left no room for deliberation, and it felt like I had a chapter or two missing. The lack of directly seeing Eliza being taught, and the rude nature Henry approaches her with really left me confused. In their argument they toss around the importance of Eliza’s clothes and her ring, these objects had meaning to Eliza as we watch her and Higgins ramble on, “HIGGINS: Hand them over. If these belonged to me instead of to the jeweller, I’d ram them down your ungrateful throat. / LIZA: This ring isnt the jeweller’s: it’s the one you bought me in Brighton. I don’t want it now” (pg. 53). On a stage, how could we have known that out of the various rings Eliza was wearing that one of them had special significance? I’d be more invested in these discussions if perhaps we’d been shown these moments of Higgins buying her the ring, and then that could provide more emotional depth to the fact that he chucks it in the fire, and then subsequently how Eliza goes to desperately retrieve it. It just felt like the story was incomplete while I was reading it.
I had no bonds with the world of Pygmalion. Which left me an uncaring reader. I couldn’t relate to Eliza, nor could I relate to Henry or anyone. I understand there are certain timeframes that are expected for plays, and maybe I’m completely in the wrong while writing this. All I know is, Pygmalion didn’t have much of an impact on me personally, and that I’m excited for the next book and set of excerpts that we get to read.