Posts Tagged ‘Thomas Huxley’
The opening of my play, “The Debate,” about Charles Darwin was this past Saturday night. I’m playing the role of Darwin in it. That’s me, hamming it up in the picture.
When Madge Montgomery, the Artistic Director of the Theater Company of Lafayette, spoke to me about submitting a script for their Lincoln/Darwin play festival (Lincoln and Darwin were both born on February 12th, 1809), I knew relatively little about either man. Having lived 20 years in England, I was more intrigued with the idea of writing something about Darwin, and I had a feeling that more of the submissions were going to be about Lincoln. So I went on-line and spent about 15 hours reading everything I could find on Darwin, his family, his colleagues, Victorian England, …. Then I headed off to the University of Colorado library and got out Darwin’s autobiography, as well of that of Thomas Huxley, Darwin’s protege and self-proclaimed “bulldog.”
When I started the research, I didn’t have any idea what I was going to write about. One thing that I was certain of was that I didn’t want to write about the controversy over whether or not evolution is scientifically valid. (Of course it is. Sorry, Creationists.)
But since I’ve started as a playwright, I’ve found that when I immerse myself in a subject, something invariably presents itself that has to be written.
In this case, I soon became caught up in Darwin’s description of his relationship with Huxley. Darwin had formulated the bases of the theories of evolution and natural selection by the time he was 29, but he realized what social, religious and political dynamite he was dealing with. So he spent the next 20 years gathering more evidence and biding his time. Then a colleague named Wallace sent him a letter with many of the same ideas, and Darwin rushed “Origin of Species” out in a few months. A year later an impromptu debate occurred at the Oxford Museum of Natural History pitting the supporters of evolution against the Creationists. Darwin, who was ill and house-bound most of his life, wasn’t at the debate, but Huxley was and defended Darwin’s theories.
In Darwin’s autobiography, he talks about how he would constantly chide Huxley for being so aggressive in attacking everyone who dared to question his (Darwin’s) theories. In contrast, Darwin was deeply into being a gentleman scientist and believed in dealing civilly with everyone.
The action of my play occurs a few weeks after the Oxford Debate, when Huxley comes to Darwin’s house to tell him about what had transpired. And the “Debate” of the title refers to both the Oxford Debate and the heated debate that Darwin and Huxley engage in on a scientist’s responsibility to take into account the potential impact of his discoveries before making them public.
Thoughtful stuff for a loose cannon like me, who has a habit of deciding what he thinks needs to be done and declares “Full speed ahead,” huh?
The next day, I did a gig as Darwin at a Unitarian Universalist service in the area. The Unitarians, and the Universalists in particular, claim Darwin as one of their own. After speaking with the Reverend, I made up an extract from the play that seemed relevant to the theme of their service. In costume and with my phony British accent coming and going, I addressed the congregation. They seemed to enjoy it, and it was a real kick for me.
I’d never been to a Unitarian service before, and I must say that it was a revelation for me. Much of what I heard was what has been going through my head for the last 50 years. It was a lot like coming home after a lifetime away.
After the service, a woman came up to me and said that she thought she’d worked with me many years earlier. It turned out that we had trained together in Chicago in January, 1974 (!!!) before flying together to Iran and teaching English as a Foreign Language in Tehran for the Iranian army. (See “Up close and personal — with your chicken thighs” and “Banging on doors, yelling ‘Those Bastards.’ “)
Small world, huh? Amazing that she’d recognize me after all these years. I guess it’s because I’m succeeding in my obligation to live forever and stay young and beautiful all that time. On the other hand, I do have a painting in the attic that’s getting old and ugly!