The Spanish Civil War of 1936-1939 provoked at least three important works of literature: Andre Malraux’s L’Espoir, Ernest Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls, and George Orwell’s nonfiction classic Homage to Catalonia. It’s not surprising that these fine writers thought the conflict worthy of their efforts: The divisions between the elected Republicans and the rebellious Fascists offered a clear good/evil distinction, and the aid that Hitler and Mussolini gave to General Franco just rendered the Republican cause all the more urgent. This also was a war in which nationals from other countries played a significant role. With America and most of Europe pledged (cravenly) not to intervene, would-be combatants like Malraux and Orwell had to employ devious means in order to join the anti-Fascists (Hemingway was there as a journalist). To fight for the Republic was to assert an ethical stance that transcended national politics.
George & Ruth: Songs and Letters of the Spanish Civil War attempts to return us to this historical watershed through the genuine exchanges between George Watt, who left America to join the International Brigade in Spain, and his new wife Ruth Rosenthal Watt, who back at home tirelessly worked to generate support for the fighters. The letters were selected and edited by Daniel Lynn Watt and Molly Lynn Watt (George and Ruth’s son and daughter-in-law), and they’re consistently loving and principled. What they aren’t is dramatic — that is, they don’t tell a story that builds to a climax, they don’t generate suspense, and they don’t even help us see the uniqueness of this conflict. As for the songs, well-accompanied on guitar by musical director Justin Medlen, they come across as randomly selected (by Tony Saletan), and give us nothing like a sense of progress or development. Fortunately the singing voices of the show’s two actors, Katherine Stenzel and Jeffrey M. Lukas, are first class (Stenzel’s is even of operatic quality), and Stenzel’s acting is moving and persuasive (Lukas seldom seems authentic). So there are elements to enjoy here. Just don’t go expecting to learn much about the Spanish Civil War.
The musical proceeds with too much simplicity: One character reads a letter, and that’s followed by a song; then the other character reads a letter, and that’s followed by another song. George’s letters are the more interesting. At the start he tells us (or Ruth) that he feels like a veteran after three days, but sometimes worries that he and his comrades are nothing but boy scouts playing at war. Later he affirms his intention to learn Spanish, notes that he’s been issued a machine gun, and informs us that he’s encountered his first fascist corpse. He gets a flesh wound, reports a funeral, attends officer training school, and is cited for bravery. Nowhere in these epistles do we learn anything about the ebb or flow of the Republican cause, or even of the evolution of George’s friendships with other combatants. Ruth’s best letters are about organizing a boycott against Japanese silk (but Japan’s relevance is never explained) or producing anti-Franco demonstrations. She goes to a huge meeting for Tom Moony (we’re never informed that Moony was a socialist militant imprisoned for a San Francisco bombing in 1916) or simply tells George how much she misses him and how she worries that he’ll stop loving her.
As for the songs, perhaps their strongest effect is to remind us that there was once a time when music was an important medium for expressing political will. Apart or together, George and Ruth sing “Death to the hirelings of the Fascists,” “Don’t buy anything Japanese,” and “The international working class shall be the human race.” Many of the songs are in English, but several are in Spanish, French, or Yiddish. As for the melodies, they’re seldom striking (though I’m curious why one anthem has the same music as “Red River Valley”). As for variety in the acting (direction by Jo Averill-Snell), it mostly consists of one character smiling lovingly at a sheet of paper while the other verbalizes a letter. The interesting set is dominated by an elegant blue wall at stage right, representing Ruth’s peaceful home, and a mottled stone wall at stage left, standing for George’s war-torn environments. Costumer Jennifer Longmuir puts Ruth in an attractive blouse and long skirt, but George’s khaki shirt with a belt around it doesn’t feel very 1930’s.
My final feeling about George & Ruth is that it’s a play still in development. There are a few eloquent letters, a few rousing songs; now someone needs to add plot and context. With more background, more canny selections, this could be a fascinating work of history — and art.
It’s just not there yet.
This article appears in Aug 17-24, 2017.