Devising the “Writer’s Soul”In Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee’s The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail.

 

The poet, described in ideal perfection, brings the whole soul of man intoactivity, with the subordination of its faculties to each other, according to their relative worth and dignity.  He diffuses a tone and spirit of unity that blends and fuses, each into each, by that synthetic and magical power to which we have exclusively appropriated the name of imagination.—Samuel Taylor Coleridge[i]

 

A writer, a man writing, is the scribe of all nature.—Henry David Thoreau[ii]

 

            In every culture of every age, the ability to tell stories, to teach, to delight, to create poetry, to give nature voice through language, functions as an essential feature of human existence.[iii] Views concerning the creation of texts and the role of the storyteller as creator vary in different ages and cultures.  Roland Barthes contends that the “author” is essentially a modern phenomenon.  Previously, a comparable figure was extolled not as a creator but as “mediator, shaman or relater whose ‘performance’ may be admired—the mastery of the narrative code—may possibly by admired but never his ‘genius.’”[iv]  Indeed, the image of the author as a genius, as a gifted individual with the rare ability to create meaning, survives today primarily as a holdover from the Romantic Movement.[v]  This lasting portrait still influences contemporary perceptions.  For the person with the capability to create meaning must therefore know the meaning; and the person who knows the meaning, perhaps the only person who knows the meaning, achieves a form of omniscience.  In this view, the author holds god-like properties.

           

Early his career, famed literary biographer Leon Edel envisioned the figure of the author and the role of the literary biographer in idealized terms.  He states that literary biography provides for a read “every secret of a writer’s soul, every quality of a writer’s mind.”[vi]  The use of the phrase “writer’s soul” hints at a decidedly Romantic method of biographical construction, a reflection on the inherent greatness of teh subject and the sanctity of the creative process.[vii]  In the following investigation, I explore the “writer’s soul” idealism guiding Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee’s literary drama,[viii] The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail (TNT).[ix]  My examination divides into three sections.  Seciton one contains an overview of the unique production history of TNT.  Section two consists of identification and discussion of what Karen Mitchell refers to as “intrinsic” intertextuality.[x]  In section three, I examine the “extrinsic” intertextual implications[xi] realized when Lawrence and Lee’s biographical portrait of Thoreau was performed in the context of the 1970s.[xii]  Through this analysis of an important literary drama, I reveal the ways in which Lawrence and Lee transform a nineteenth-century author into anti-Vietnam sage, savior and activist.  This study also highlights TNT’s place among a dying breed of literary dramas that glorify and canonize the figure of the author as a laudable and sanctified individual.

 

TNT Production History

 

            The unique history of TNT begins with an organization known as the American Playwrights Theatre (APT).  IN 1962, at the annual conference of the American Educational Theatre Association, a panel addressed the question as to why college and university theatre seasons across the country produced such a high number of warmed-over, three-to five-year-old Broadway scripts.  An especially disturbing feature of this observation grew from the widely held belief by those in attendance that these scripts were often of low quality.[xiii]  Recognizing this dilemma prompted a determination that universities, ideally bastions of progress and new ideas, should serve as navigators, not passengers, in the course of the American stage.  The following year, the APT was formed dedicated to the belief that “new plays of ideas of superior caliber to those recently produced on Broadway can be written and produced in the American theatre” (Guernsey 39).

           

The founders of the APT were a distinguished mixture of academics and commercial artists.  In 1964, when the organization became incorporated, J. Osborn Fuller, Dean of Ohio State’s College of Arts and Sciences, served as chairman.  Trustees included W.H. Yeager, Chairman of Ohio State’s Speech Department; Roy H. Boweln, director of Theatre at Ohio Stage; John T. Bonner, Kenneth L. Graham,, president of the American Educational Theatre Association; Jerome Lawrence, playwright; and Stanley Young, executive director of the American National Theatre and Academy.  Edward Cole of Yale, John Morrison of UCLE, and Frank Whiting of Minnesota were appointed to the board for their outstanding work as directors of theatre in university settings.  Finally, additional board members included playwrights Robert E. Lee, Elmer Rice, and Robert Anderson.  As the organization continued to evolve, William Inge, Lillian Hellman, Arthur Miller, S.N. Behrman, Arthur Laurents, William Gibson, and Horton Foote sought involvement.[xiv]  Perhaps not since the days of George Pierce Baker had higher education exerted a more visible relationship with the American professional theatre.

           

Understandably, the involvement of Lawrence and Lee in tehAPT lent the organization considerable creative clout.  At that time, their resume included Inherit the Wind (1955), Auntie Mame (1965), and seven other Broadway productions.  However, the inaugural production of TNT in April and 1970 distinguished the duo as the most successful and significant dramatists in the fifteen-year history of the APT.  In the subsequent year and a half after the pilot production at Ohio State University, the APT approved 141 separate productions of TNT across North America.  In this relatively short time period, estimations suggest that more people saw the play than all Broadway performances of Inherit the Wind and Auntie Mame combined (Fink 7).  For the next several years, college and university theatre programs continued to mount a remarkable number of productions, making Lawrence and Lee’s drama the most produced American play of the 1970s.[xv]  By 1979, the APT’s inability to commission scripts to even remotely rival TNT’s astonishing success, coupled with the increased production of new plays in regional theatre settings, led to the disbanding of the organization.[xvi]  In retrospect, David Ayers describes Lawrence and Lee’s drama as “the zenith of the American Playwrights Theatre” (qtd. in Fink 1).

           

The enormous popularity of TNT is especially remarkable because the drama was deliberately never performed on or off Broadway.  In an anthology of Lawrence and Lee’s plays, Alan Woods contends that the playwrights’ decision not to make their play available to Broadway audiences vindicated the mission of APT by forcefully demonstrating that a living theatre could be born and continue to flourish outside of Manhattan.[xvii]  However, Woods also suggests a downside connected with the lack of professional exposure: “That TNT still has not attracted much scholarly attention must be seen as an ironic comment on the scholarly community’s lack of awareness of changes in theatrical production patterns during the past two decades, as well as on scholars ignoring evidence beneath their very noses” (Woods 452).  Subject of a very little critical investigation, TNT achieved its enormous popularity at the same institutions that currently ignore its significance with their silence.

 

Intrinsic Intertextuality Through Lifted Texts

 

            Lawrence and Lee’s preliminary notes for TNT contain several direct quotations from a number of Thoreau’s books, essays, journals, and poems. Mitchell identifies this common form of intertextuality as “lifted texts,” and defines them as those intertexts that “exist verbatim elsewhere and are incorporated into the new work” (48).  Lawrence’s notes alone include references and quotations from eighteen volumes by or about Thoreau (Fink11).[xviii]  The reappearance of these texts in TNT suggests that the playwrights relied heavily on Thoreau’s autobiographical manuscripts in their scripting process.  In most instances, Thoreau’s language does not make the transition from source text to theatrical text without undergoing modifications in syntactical order.  On a few notable occasions, however, Thoreau’s words life cleanly from his pages and land unaltered, although recontextualized, in the drama’s intertextual fabric.

           

In his essay “Civil Disobedience,” Thoreau recalls that immediately after being released from jail he “joined the Huckleberry part.”[xix]  Likewise, Fink cites a reference to this eccentric ritual appearing in Lawrence’s notes from Henry Beetle Hough’s Thoreau of Walden.[xx]  Although published in Hough’s text, the following statement originated as one of Thoreau’s journal entries:

           

I remember how glad I was when I was kept form school half a day to pick huckleberries on a neighboring hill all by myself to make a pudding for the family dinner.  Ah, they got nothing but pudding, but I got the invaluable experience besides!  A half a day of liberty like that was like a promise of life eternal.  I was emancipation in New England. (qtd. in Fink 13-14)

 

A similar passage appears in TNT when Henry is tutoring Edward Emerson:

 

Huckleberry—hunting my boy!...Now, when I was your age—if I was ever your age—my mother used to bake Huckleberry pudding.  Best in Concord.  But all my Mama and Papa and Uncle Charlie and Aunt Louisa and my brother got—all they got—was the pudding.  I had the glory of discovering the huckleberries!  A half-day of wild adventure under the Concord sky.[xxi]

 

            Although the above passages clearly are not identical, their similarities nearly succeed in making the latter narrative an example of a lifted text.  Both narratives mention a “half a day” set aside for picking huckleberries; they both argue that the means of the occupation (huckleberry gathering) far surpass the ends (“pudding”); and they both express a sense of the personal joy connected with spending solitary time in nature. Predictably, the difference existing between the two passages are attributable to the manner in which the narrative is recontextualized.  In the TNT version, Thoreau directs his statement to his young student.  Gone, then, are the more mature phrases, such as “A half a day of wild adventure under the Concord sky.”  These subtle alterations reconfigure Thoreau’s original quotation, making it more appropriate as a monologue within the context of the drama; these changes occur, however, without greatly distorting the basic tone and integrity of the source text.

           

Another example of a lifted text in TNT, also identified by Fink, remains even closer to the syntax of Thoreau’s source text.  Lawrence’s notes on Milton Meltzer and Walter Harding’s A Thoreau Profile contain the following excerpt from on of Thoreau’ lectures:

 

I know this well, that if one thousand, if one hundred, if ten men whom I could name—if ten honest men only,--ay, if one HONEST man, in this State of Massachusetts, ceasing to hold slaves, were actually to withdraw from this partnership, and be locked up in the county jail therefore, it would be the abolition of slavery in America. (qtd. in Fink 16)

 

Likewise, a similar speech exists in TNT.  After being approached by the Concord constable about his unpaid taxes, Henry makes the following speech.  Throughout this address, the stage directions call for a crowd of townspeople to gather around him (TNT 66).

 

“I’ll tell you this.  If one thousand…If one hundred…If ten men…ten honest men, only…if one honest man in this state of Massachusetts had the conviction and the courage to withdraw from this unholy partnership and let himself be locked up in the country jail, it’d be the start of more true freedom than we’ve seen since a few farmers had the guts to block the British by the bridge up the road. (TNT 66; qtd. in Fink16)”

 

This passionate expression of “civil disobedience” eventually leads to Henry’s incarceration.

           

As is quickly evident, the similarities existing between these two passages, not only in meaning but also in vocabulary and syntax , make the TNT version an example of a lifted text.  For the most part, Lawrence and Lee’s attempts to update Thoreau’s 1850’s rugged, New England prose style to match 1970’s ears account for the minor differences existing between the two versions.  For example, “I know this well” is changed to, “I’ll tell you this.”  “Ay, if one HONEST man” is simplified to, “if one honest man.”  And, “were actually to withdraw from this partnership, and be locked up in the county jail therefore” is changed to, “had the conviction and the courage to withdraw from this unholy partnership and let himself be locked up in the country jail.”  The only blatant moment of literary license taken in the entire monologue comes at the end when the playwrights add a reference to the city of Concord’s involvement in the Revolutionary War (TNT 66).

 

Intrinsic Intertextuality Through Allusion

 

            Although both are forms of intertextuality, the study of “allusion” in literary drama offers a set of challenges different from the study of “lifted texts.” Rather than drawing from specific passages, allusions generally connote wider associations, such as a n entire book or a set of ideas (Mitchell 48).  Fore example, on several occasions in RNR, characters discuss issues of solitude, natural studies, transcendentalism, passive resistance, etc.  Although most of these moments do not correlate directly with specific passages in Thoreau’s writing, they clearly refer and defer to his overall body of work.  Admittedly, the limitations of performance condense many allusions to the point of superficiality.  Allusion therefore helps to express Barthes’ definition of biographemes.  They “reduce [themselves] to a few details, a few preferences, a few inflections” (9).  Since biographemes in the form of allusions do not always refer to a specific passage within a specific text their sources can remain blurred and difficult to pinpoint.

           

Even so, allusions to certain highly resonate texts dominate the intertextual fabric of TNT.  Predictably, three of the most prominent of these source texts include Walden, the essay “Civil Disobedience,” and excerpts from Thoreau’s journals.  It is no coincidence that copious notes from all three of these texts appear in Lawrence’s preliminary writing. A brief examination of a few of the connections between these important source texts and TNT illustrates the ability of allusion to fashion biography and enhance theatrical presentation.

           

Undeniably, ideas and locations expressed in Thoreau’s most iconic text, Walden, leave behind a definite signature in the performance of TNT.  For example, Thoreau’s Walden amplifies any reference within the drama to something as seemingly innocent as a “pond.”  In the opening moments of the drama, John Thoreau’s description of his brother as “Wild”…”Known to haunt the woods and ponds” (TNT 7) refers to more than eccentric behavior.  John’s reference only foreshadows a conversation near the end of act one precipitated by Waldo’s attempts to pay Henry for his work as a maintenance man and as a teacher:

 

                        WALDO:  You must have weekly wages…

HENRY:  But must it be money?  Could it be—(He breaks off.  HENRY pauses. WALDO and LYDIAN stare at him strangely, as he stares way off, toward Walden, far in the back of the auditorium and beyond)  How far does it extend , your back meadow?

                        WALDO:  To the woods

                        HENRY:  Including the woods?

                        WALDO: A section of it.  To the shore of the pond.  (The idea is accelerating inside his head.)

HENRY  Perhaps, some day, if my work has been useful to you, and if we remain friends, I may ask you fro a bit of your woods (Quickly)  A small square, no bigger than this room.  Not as a gift, I don’t’ want to own it!  Simply an understanding between friends—who know that the land really belongs to the woodchucks, anyhow! (TNT 53)

 

The deliberate and, one may argue, contrived manner in which Henry “stares way off, toward Walden” force fully signals the significance of this allusion within the drama.

           

In its final manifestation, the signature of Walden plays a key role the dramatic action of TNT.  Late in the drama, Henry reaches the agonizing decision to give-up his life on Walden Pond in order to pursue social change (110).  Woods argues that this realization constitutes the climax of the drama, a climax set-up earlier by Thoreau’s repeated please to Emerson to speak out against the institution of slavery and the war in Mexico. (450).  After much internal debate, Thoreau accepts the reality that his former idol does not possess the courage to stand against the mainstream.  As a result, Thoreau realizes that, although he cannot broker support for his convictions, he must actively protest his government’s policy.

           

The number of allusions to Walden found on TNT pales in comparison to the near saturation of material drawn from Thoreau’s famous essay “Civil Disobedience.”  A case could be made that the very idea for the drama is itself  an allusion to the famous essay.  One specific example centers on the guilt of Thoreau’s unfortunate cellmate.  Although he does not mention him by name in “Civil Disobedience,” Thoreau speculates as to the probable reasons for his cellmate’s captivity:  “As near as I could discover, he ha dprobably gone to bed in a barn when drunk, and ha dsmoked his pipe there” (“Civil Disobedience” 24).  In TNT, “Bailey” grudgingly tells Henry, “All I did was snuck in to get some sleep and I guess the sparks from my pipe fell in the hay” (TNT 12).

           

Other connections between “Civil Disobedience” and TNT exist.  For example, although the individual texts disagree as to whether Thoreau was picking up or dropping off his shoes, they both indicate that the writer’s arrest occurred while he was on his way to the cobbler (“Civil Disobedience” 26; TNT61). 

 

In “Civil Disobedience,” he decries the practice of paying local taxes to support a town priest (22).  Likewise, on numerous occasions, Thoreau takes aim at paying Federal taxes to fund an unjust war.  These two convictions come together in TNT to form Henry’s line:  Í wouldn’t pay the tithe to the church, so I signed off from the church!  Well, I’m ready right now to sign off from the government” (65).

           

But perhaps the most memorable allusion to “Civil Disobedience” found in TNT comes when the lights go out.  In his famous essays, Thoreau describes the sensation of lying in the darkened cell after his cellmate had drifted to sleep:

 

It was like traveling into a far country, such as I had never expected to behold, to lie there for one night.  It seemed to me that I never had heard the town clock strike before, nor the evening sounds of the village….It was to see my native village in the light of the Middle Ages, and our Concord was turned into a Rhine Stream, and visions of knights and castles passed before me.  They were the voices of old burghers that I heard in the streets.  I was an involuntary spectator and auditor of whatever was done and said in the kitchen of the adjacent village inn—a wholly new and rare experience to me.  It was a closer view of my native town.  I was fairly free inside of it.  I began to comprehend what its inhabitants were about. (“Civil Disobedience” 25)

 

Similarly, a definite allusion to Thoreau’s’ nighttime epiphany occurs in TNT.  The allusion begins with the audio cue of a clock striking eleven.  According to the stage directions, the sound “dilates, louder and louder, pulsing with standing waves” (TNT 42).  Visibly affected, Henry addresses the darkness:  “Thank you Concord!  Thank you for locking me up so I’m free to hear what I’ve never heard before.  You put me behind iron bars and walls four feet thick!  How do you know that I’m not the free one?  The freest man in the world! (TNT 40)”

 

            The similarities existing between these two passages, both in terms of context and content, theaten to overshadow what are some fairly significant differences.  Among the similarities are the fact that both narratives come as a result of the solitude of the jail cell, that the ringing of a church bell inspires both epiphanies, and, to different degrees, that both narratives describe a sense of personal freedom achieved through a heightened awareness of one’s surroundings.  In reducing the length of the passage to just a few lines, however, Lawrence and Lee alter the source considerably.  The passage shifts from a reflective, highly descriptive acknowledgement of a transcendent experience, to an exuberant and passionate expression of intellectual superiority.  In short, Lawrence and Lee’s allusion to the passage from Thoreau’s essay further contributes to their overtly favorable characterization of Thoreau.  He comes across as a superior individual with a singular capacity to achieve happiness, self-awareness and personal fulfillment.

            Throughout TNT, allusions to Thoreau’s work also appear in the form of visual and auditory symbols.  For the most part, these indicators are not blatant; they remain suggestive devices that only plant subtle clues as to the nature of Thoreau’s personality and contribute to the almost filmic, memory-play quality of the overall drama.  For example, a major thematic element of Walden is reduced to his plea, “Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity!”[xxii]  Recognizing the potential usefulness of this quotation, Lawrence and Lee include it in their early notes for TNT.[xxiii]  The quotation also literally appears as a line in the drama (TNT 91).  Indeed, Thoreau’s impulse to simplify carries into performance by providing the visual core of TNT’s production design.  Never is this strategy more apparent than the playwrights’ notes accompanying the script changes for the 1970 UCLE production:

 

For your production style, use Thoreau’s own words:  Simplify, simplify, simplify!  The more you can omit physically and leave to the audience’s imagination, the more your production will project Thoreau’s own sense of economy and uncluttered order.  There should be no scenes as such—they should overlap, happen simultaneously:  they are not merely inside the cell, but inside this man’s head—and his soul.  Time is awash.  Free your stage for history’s free-est human being.[xxiv]

 

As this statement indicates, Lawrence and Lee believe that the mise-en-scene of their production holds the potential to enhance the biographical essence of their protagonist.  In short, they express a production goal in which staging decisions enable an audience to experience Thoreau’s doctrine of simplification through exposure to visual metaphor.

           

Significantly, the impulse to simplify influences more than movement and staging choices of Lawrence and Lee’s drama; it controls other elements of design as well.  Perhaps the most obvious an immediate example is Thoreau himself.  In their stage directions, Lawrence and lee describe the writer as “29, clean shaven, with liquid eyes.”  The description goes on to state, “His clothes are simple, the colors of the forest” (TNT 4).  Aside from hinting at Thoreau’s attempts to achieve simplicity in living, Lawrence and Lee’s familiarity with these aspects of Thoreau’s personality is evident in their research.  Second among the eighty-five separate entries from Thoreau’s journals transcribed into Lawrence’s notebook is the quotation, “Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.”[xxv]  Moreover, the decision to costume Thoreau in “the colors of the forest” makes use of yet another commonly held biographeme of the writer:  Thoreau as a man of nature, a student of the earth.

           

On a scribbled floor plan accompanying a 1969 draft of TNT, Lawrence reveals the influence of Thoreau’s environmentalist beliefs on his visual conception of the play.[xxvi]  Calling for a theatre with a thrust stage, this outline consists of four main acting areas.  Three include a semblance of a jail cell, an area for scenes involving Ralph Waldo Emerson, and an area for scenes involving Thoreau’s immediate family.  Significantly, these three areas are located upstage, leaving the entire thrust available for what Lawrence labels as “Walden and Nature and Reality.”[xxvii]  Since large portions of TNT are set at Thoreau’s famous cabin, on or near Walden Pond, or in fields and meadows in the Concord area, the decision to place these scenes, and only these scenes, on the thrust clearly separates them from the rest of the drama.  Presentational portraits of natural settings literally become injected into the audience’s habitat, emphasizing their importance.

           

Predictably, lighting design represents yet another tool used to further emphasize Thoreau’s relationship with nature.  Before collaborating with Lee, Lawrence composed an early draft of the play entitled “A Different Drummer.”  This version contains the following scenic description:

 

Leafy projections of trees in spring, summer and autumn, the bare branches of the limbs hung with the snow in winter.  Dawns, sunsets, starry nights alive with milky-way made close by the forest’s darkness—all will be suggested subtly by lighting.  These are the moods of a man’s mind, the free-est mind ever.[xxviii]

 

As was his practice, Lee edited Lawrence’s scene descriptions in later revisions.  Nonetheless, Lawrence’s initial description illustrates a desire to use lighting to suggest a number of organic locations while simultaneously reinforcing the aesthetic that the entire drama exists inside Thoreau’s mind.  Evidently, individual productions took advantage of the benefits of visually integrating elements of nature settings into performance.  Jonathan Lennebach’s projector notes from the 1970 production at UCLA call for rear-screen projections of Walden Pond, Heywood’s Meadow, and a wide assortment of trees.[xxix]

           

Finally, costume, scene, and lighting are not the only intertextual design elements with the potential to create character and enhance theatrical presentation.  The closing moments of TNT provide a powerful example of how a sound may serve as an audio biographeme.  Arguably, no quotation from Thoreau’s writing is more identifiable than his famous defense of non-conformity:  “If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.  Let him step to the music which he hears, whoever measured or far away.”  Ironically, Lawrence and Lee’s use of this statement, generally interpreted as a “live and let live” anthem, underscores Thoreau’s decision to leave Walden in order to more aggressively pursue social change.  As he exits his prison cell, the final stage directions describe his reaction:

 

In the doorway, HENRY stops, looks up sharply.  From a distance, he hears an eccentric, non-military drummer.  He moves into Concord Square ablaze with morning light.  Suddenly, the drumbeat comes from a different direction, growing in volume.  It is like thunder all around him.  His eyes follow the arc of the sky.  He seems to grow in stature, lifted and strengthened by a great challenge.  He waves to BAILEY, who waves back warmly from the cell window.  With determination, HENRY leaps from the stage and strides up the aisles of the theatre to the sound of his own different drummer.  No curtain falls.  The lights do not fade, but grow brighter.  During the curtain calls, and as the audience leaves the theatre, HENRY’s distinctive and irregular drum-cadence builds and resounds.  (TNT 110-111)

 

Significantly, this is the first and only direct reference to “a different drummer” in the entire text.  Clearly, Lawrence and Lee recognize the importance of the allusion and deliberately make it the final experience of the production.  Transformed into a sound cue of a sporadic drum beat, Thoreau’s quotation supplies the denouement of the drama; in doing so, it provides a clear example of intertextuality’s ability to shape and influence literary drama.

           

As should be increasingly clear, visual and auditory allusions fulfill many important functions in a performance of TNT.  Seamlessly integrated into the performance event, these allusions reinforce widely held biographical views of Thoreau.  Staging, costume, scenic, and lighting choices only strengthen the writer’s overall status as a seeker of simplicity, a naturalist, and a nonconformist with a social conscience.  Any incongruities and inconsistencies lurking behind these portrayals go unexplored and untouched.  The writer emerges as the embodiment of his texts, a figure of esteem and bardolarty. 

 

Intrinsic Intertextuality Through Found Discourse

 

            Entries from Thoreau’s private journals represent the third dominant source text leading to the creation of TNT.  Texts such as journal entries fall into the category of what Mitchell refers to as “found discourse.”  Similar to lifted texts but unlike allusion, found discourse consists of quotations taken from documents surrounding an author’s life.  Found discourse differs from lifted texts in that the source of the intertext usually is not a document originally intended for publication of public consumption (Mitchell 50).  The publication of edited volumes of Thoreau’s journals in the late nineteenth century drastically hastened the growth of the writer’s reputation as the “Poet-Naturalist.”[xxx]  No surprise should be taken, then, that Lawrence and Lee recorded over seventy-two individual entries from Thoreau’s journals into their preliminary notes on the play.  Clearly the playwrights recognized the importance of these entries as a biographical tool in the creation of Thoreau’s theatrical persona.

           

Of all of Thoreau’s journal entries that influence TNT, none does so more prominently than an entry dated 1 October 1851.  The following quotation comes from Lawrence’s notes:

 

Just put a fugitive slave, who has taken the name of Henry Williams, into the cars for Canada….  Intended to dispatch him at noon through to Burlington, but when I went to buy his ticket, saw one at the depot who looked and behaved so much like a Boston policeman that I did not venture that time.  Williams, a mulatto, an intelligent and very well-behaved man.  (“Notes on Thoreau’s Journals” 15:4)

 

Lawrence indicates his belief in the theatrical potential of this journal entry by interjecting a capitalized phrase into the middle of the passage.  The phrase reads, “WHATE A DRAMATIC INDICENT HERE!”

           

Occasionally, Thoreau volunteered his home as a station along the Undergroudn Railroad.[xxxi]  Likewise, anti-slavery sentiments permeate much of his writing and are referred to on a number of occasions in TNT.  By far the most direct allusion appears in a scene involving the same “Williams” mentioned in Thoreau’s journal entry.  Set near Thoreau’s cabin on Walden Pond, the scene depicts the runaway slave stumbling upon Henry as he is working in his bean garden.  After getting over their mutual surprise, the two men have a conversation in which Henry offers the terrified Williams food an pity platitudes about achieving personal freedom.  In one line he states, “I welcome you here, but…you’ve got to find your own Walden where they don’t have sickening laws which keep the black man in suppression” (TNT 91).  Williams is so impressed bye their conversation, he decides to take the first name “Henry.”  The scene ends with Thoreau putting his hand on Henry Williams’ shoulder and telling him to “Go to Canada,” the point being that true freedom is impossible under the United States’ current policies.

           

Within the context of the overall drama, the “Henry Williams” scene serves several theatrical function.  The pivotal scene depicting the fracture between Henry and Waldo immediately follows Henry’s scene with Williams.  Ii fact, it is the news that Williams has been recaptured by a “Boston policeman”[xxxii]  that pushes Henry to make demands upon his mentor, Emerson.  These demands eventually lead to the rift between the two men and one of TNT’s central conflicts.  Moreover, aside form contributing to a sense of rising action, the allusion to Thoreau’s journal entry also provides yet another example of how intertexts from Thoreau’s writing are used to portray the writer in the best of possible lights.  He comes across in the scene as daring abolitionist who selflessly shares his food, his home, and his ideas with those less fortunate than himself.

           

Regrettably, however, Thoreau’s glorification comes at the expense of Williams’ characterization.  Similar to the character of Thoreau’s cellmate, Bailey, Williams’ depiction makes him a poor makes him a poor candidate to carry on a conversation with the great Thoreau; he becomes instead a foil for the writer’s racial and social wisdom.  Unlike Bailey, however, William’s deficiencies in  intellect carry with them a racially motivated stigma.  Rather than functioning in the scene as “intelligent” and “well-behaved,” as he is described in Thoreau’s journal entry (even this obviously sympathetic description is slightly troubling by contemporary standards), Williams comes across as the stereotype of the run-away slave: silly, malleable, unintelligent and comically skittish.  The manner in which Lawrence and Lee depicts Williams’ desire to take Thoreau’s first name is as contradictory as it is misguided.  Henry spends much of the scene affirming the benefits of self-expression and nonconformity.  After hearing this, Williams inexplicably asks the writer if he can take “Henry” as a first name.  Only more absurd is the fact that Henry agrees, but tells him that “David” might be a better choice because he doesn’t use it much (TNT 90).

 

Extrinsic Intertextuality:  Thoreau in the Context of the 1970’s

 

            In his review of the 1970 Washington, D.C. production of TNT, Clive Barnes prophetically concludes, “It is a play that I think will find a strong empathy in college and high school students.”[xxxiii]  To this point, my study has dealt exclusively with intrinsic intertextuality.  This term designates intertextual material exclusively with intrinsic intertextuality.  This term designates intertextual material transcribed directly form its source text into the performance text, or, to be colloquial, from the page the stage (Mitchell 45).  In order to appreciate the remarkable accuracy of Barnes’ prediction, the focus of my study must now shirt to a discussion of “extrinsic” intertextuality.  This classification does not specifically pertain to what exists on the printed page or what appears in the visual language of performance but deals primarily with the audience response and social context in which a text finds performance (Mitchell 46).  In short, an extrinsic intertextual analysis provides a means to better understand an dinvestigate the unprecedented popularity of TNT on American colleges and universities throughout the 1970s.  It also sheds light on the play’s current lack of appeal in both the academic and professional theatre.

           

A description of the tumultuous social context in which the majority of performances of TNT occurred serves as the first step towards understanding the remarkable appeal of the drama.  It is no coincidence that the height of TNT’s popularity corresponded with the United States’ highest level of involvement in the Vietnam War.  In large part due tot the military draft, colleges and universities throughout the country swelled to record enrollments.  In turn, the influx of new students strongly opposed to military service helped to make settings of higher education the front-lines in the anti-war movement against the government’s Vietnam policy.  TNT’s development as a script of the National Playwrights’ Theatre necessitated that the vast majority of its performances occur within these politically aggressive environments.  Of all the campus demonstrations and riots of the early 1970s across the U.S., arguably the most egregious conflict took place on 4 May, 1970, on the campus of Kent State University.  IN this fateful instance, four students died and nine were wounded when National Guardsmen shot into a crowd of demonstrators.  It is of more than passing significance that the inaugural production of Lawrence and Lee’s drama took place on the campus of another major university ain the state of Ohio only months after the Kent State massacre. 

           

Indeed, many scenes, lines, and images from TNT take on added force when viewed through the social context of 1970s college life.  The most obvious association likely to provoke audience response are the inevitable comparisons between the Vietname War and Thoreau’s efforts to discredit his government’s involvement in the Mexican-American War.  In a conversation with bailey occurring early in Act One, Henry compares the qualities of a bird with the bureaucracy of federal government:  “A loon doesn’t wage war, his government is perfect, being nonexistent” (12).  Later, in a conversation with his jailer, Henry expresses similar views referring to the Mexican American War:  “What the government of this country is doing turns my stomach!  And if I keep my mouth shut, I’m a criminal.  To my Conscience.  To my God.  To Society” (67).  The anti-war theme continues later in the drama during the pivotal scene between Henry and Emerson.  Desperate to inspire his mentor to action, Henry pleads, “Can you lift your right hand to your mouth while your left hand—which is also you—your government—is killing men in Mexico?”  (94).  As is quickly evident from these examples, a 1970’s student audience could easily perceive parallels between TNT and the United States’ military actions in the Vietnam.

           

But never are parallels between the Mexican-American and Vietnam Wars more directly apparent than in TNT’s climatic dream sequence.  In this bizarre scene, described in the stage directions in the unmistakable vernacular of the 1960’s and 1970’s drug culture as “a bad trip” (101), Henry confronts many horrifying images of war.  Significant figures from his past play the roles of soldiers on their way to battle.  Refusing to go, Henry endures a barrage of insults from his drafted Concord neighbors, such as “Coward,” “Slacker,” “Traitor,” “Deserter,” “Heathen,” and “Vagran6t” (101).  Even more disturbing statements occur when the soldiers march in unison to cadences of “Hate-two-three-four!” and “Learn to kill!” (102).  The stage directions record the punctuation of this disturbing scene:

 

Deafening artillery fire peaks in volume.  There are great flashes of light, the arcing of mortar shells, the staccato splattering of bullets.  The Federal troops form into a ragged line of attacking infantrymen.  They point their muskets front and move slowly forward, advancing on the audience as if they were the enemy. (104)

 

            With no attempts at subtlety, Lawrence and Lee design Henry’s hallucination to play on a number of images from student life during the Vietnam era.  Obvious examples include friends forced into military service, harsh accusations on those who refuse to fight, and horrific scenes of battle (images made disturbingly real during the 1970s by the practice of showing gruesome footage nightly on the evening news).  But by far the most inciting image in the dream sequence takes place when the band of soldiers threaten to attack innocent civilians sitting passively in the audience.  In the context of the Vietnam War in general, this action feeds off popular perceptions that the citizens of the Southeast Asian country suffered as innocent victims of American diplomacy.  But, in the smaller context of a performance of TNT in a university setting, the image of “Federal Troops” firing weapons into a crowd of students evokes definite comparisons to the Kent State incident.

           

Aside from references to the Vietnam War, other extratextual allusions to social action in the form of student protests abound in TNT.  One of the most persistent of these allusions deals with the ways the drama questions, discredits, and eventually discounts all symbols of authority.  Examples include the many caustic references to government; the open disrespect for organized systems of religion, education, and justice; and the gradual devaluation of the status of Emerson.  The harsh portrayal of these institutions and Thoreau’s gradual separation from them contribute to a depiction of the writer as the physical embodiment of a popular 1960s counter-cultural anthem:  “question authority.”

           

Similar to the allusions to Vietnam, the many anti-establishment allusions reach fruition in the drama’s climactic dream sequence.  In this scene, Emerson is depicted as the president of the United States; he soon engages in a conversation with the chairman of the Concord Board of Education, Ball, who is depicted as a military general.  As the mortar shells fly, Ball confronts Emerson with the statement, “Mr. President, the military advises that we conquer the entire territory.  Level them all to rubble!  Are you prepared to go along?” (102).  Emerson eventually fumbles the following response:

 

I wish more time to collect my thoughts.  So I am going to appoint a committee to appoint a committee to appoint a committee. (Cheers.)  Get to the bottom of this, so the top will know what to do! (102).

 

The symbolism of this exchange is as blatant as it is biting.  Within the context of TNT, Emerson and Ball represent the two most identifiable symbols of authority and the establishment.  By the end of the drama, neither of them is portrayed in an even remotely positive light.  Their theatrical metamorphosis into highly powerful political and a military figures systematically decries far reaching symbols of authority.  Furthermore, Emerson’s depiction as an incoherent pawn of the military meshes nicely with 1960s and 1970s views of American presidents as poorly equipped to function effectively and objectively as commanders-in-chief.

           

Finally, Lawrence and Lee’s attempts to deal with issues of slavery and race resonate with undeniable parallels to the civil rights and passive resistance movements in the 1960s and 1970s.  Two moments in the drama stand out in particular.  Henry’s statements advising Williams to “Go to Canada” (91) could easily be interpreted both as a denunciation of social inequality, and as validation of the practice of draft-dodging in order to avoid living in the confines of what many young people believed to be an oppressive government.  Williams’ reappearance as a Mexican soldier during Henry’s dram sequence only further contemporizes issues of race.  As American soldiers shoot at his fleeting figure, one of them shouts, “Dirty Nigger-Spic!  He got away!” (103).  Judging from these remarks, Williams fulfills the role of the ridiculed other, an object of racist aggression and discrimination.  The fact that the soldiers attempt to shoot him as he fleas forcefully illustrates the racial divide of a society breaking apart by defamatory prejudices.

           

The many allusions in TNT to the Vietnam War, anti-establishmentism, and racial injustice are by no means coincidental or accidental phenomenon.  In a transcript of a 1968 meeting between Lawrence and Lee and the board of the APT, Lawrence recites to the board a statement made by Thoreau:

                       

The whole country is unjustly over-run and conquered by a foreign army and subject to military law, and in that case, I think it’s not too soon for honest men to rebel and revolutionize.[xxxiv]

 

In itself, this quotation seems consistent with Thoreau’s other statements against the Mexican-American War expressed in numerous intertexts in TNT.  However, Lawrence’s statement directly preceding this quotation emphasizes contemporary parallels.  He plainly admits, “I read a quote, which Thoreau said, that sounds as if he’s writing about Vietnam.”  Lawrence’s statement, made two years prior to the final revisions of TNT, proves a conscious desire on the part of the playwright to capitalize on existing parallels between Thoreau’s writing and the Vietnam War.

           

Indeed, throughout the development of TNT, Lawrence and Lee emphasized the contemporary relevancy of their concept in the drama.  In the very first sentence of the preface to the Hill and Wang publication, the playwrights openly state, “The man imprisoned in our play belongs more to the 1970s than to the age in which he lived” (vii).  Likewise, the program notes to the 1970 production at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre contain similar sentiments.  Although they claim to be “scrupulously accurate” in their portrayal, Lawrence and Lee admit to throwing their “own light onto the shadow of the man” in order to allow “the spirit of Henry David Thoreau” to be “more alive in the Seventies than it was in the middle of the last century, when he lived.”[xxxv]  Lawrence and Lee take their biographical task even further than admitting similarities between Thoreau’s writing and their turbulent age.  In their preface tot eh play, they state:

 

Time is awash in the jail cell.  We are not trapped in happenings past, but are concerned about THE NOW THOREAU—the explosive spirit who addressed himself to the perils of our time with more power and clarity than most angry young men writing about it now. (viii)

 

            By admitting the fact that they are “not trapped in happenings past,” Lawrence and Lee indicate that their interpretation of Thoreau, or, as they put it, “THE NOW THOREAU,” may be more influenced by the events of 1960s and 1970s than by social context of the middle 1800s.  Ultimately, the clearest indication of the playwrights’ desires to heighten and redirect Thoreau’s political agenda may be found in minutes of an APT board meeting.  In an attempt to express the urgency of their project, Lawrence states, “We need a Thoreau who is more like Thoreau than Thoreau” (qtd. in “Meeting with APT Board” 16:1).  Aside from helping with practical concerns of dramatization, this degree of dramatic license enables the playwrights to use Thoreau unabashedly as a mouthpiece for their contemporary political causes.

 

 

Conclusions:  Seamless Intertexts and the Author as Sage, Savior, and Activist

 

            As this study of TNT indicates, Lawrence and Lee’s use of intrinsic intertextuality to create a biographical depiction of Thoreau corresponds with Edel’s idyllic “writer’s soul” objective for literary biography.  Lawrence and Lee’s “NOW THOREAU” exists as a blameless idealist and a tireless social avenger.  Rarely does the essayist/poet/naturalist’s mouth fail to spring forth the perfect phrase, the right idea, or the appropriate indictment.  Cursed with being the only person with the foresight and courage to change the wrong-headed and destructive policies of his community and government, Henry resolves to struggle against the system.  Granting his listeners wisdom, fighting for those too weak or ignorant to fight for themselves, and sacrificing his lifestyle for an ideal, Thoreau becomes the theatrical embodiment of the talented, enlightened, selfless author:  a visage of Romantic expectation.

           

The selection and method of placement of intertextuality play a key role in the theatrical creation of Thoreau as Romantic hero.  Nearly every instance of intertextuality in TNT—whether lifted, allusion, or found—conforms to what Mitchell refers to as a “seamless” method of placement.  Seamless intertexts, according to Mitchell, furnish a playwright with the ability to conceal and expunge otherwise glaring incongruities in the triangular relationship between text, intertext, and author (47).  This is to say that, although minor and expected alterations do occur between text and intertext in TNT, the intertexts themselves always affirm and never negate or question the integrity of their source text.  Likewise, the integrity of Thoreau’s carefully crafted literary persona never comes into question in Lawrence and Lee’s drama.  Even the extrinsic metaphorical parallels between Thoreau’s writings and the cultural climate of the 1970s accentuate and elevate the positive expectations of Edel’s “writer’s soul.”  By choosing only the most upbeat and flattering of intertexts, Lawrence and Lee leave no room in their idealized portrait for the often stodgy, disillusioned, and cynical figure also apparent in much of Thoreau’s writing.  With no apologies, their “NOW THOREAU” exists as a purification of what we might guess to be the “THEN THOREAU.”

           

In terms of issues of characterization and theatrical effectiveness, TNT’s highly Romantic depiction of the author poses some problems to the skeptical sensibilities of a contemporary audience.  While today’s theatre-goers may still delight I Thoreau’s noble attempts to change the system, they never really get an opportunity to see him change.  Always witty, intelligent and indomitable, Henry displays no chinks in his armor.  He is almost completely immutable.  Despite his charisma and intelligence, Lawrence and Lee’s Thoreau border the terrain of the stock figure, the stereotype of the one-dimensional character.  To use an analogy from popular culture, the Thoreau in TNT suffers from the same disadvantage as Superman.  With all his powers, intelligence, and goodness, Superman makes a predictable protagonist.  Lawrence and Lee might have been well served to follow the lead of the creators of the man of steel and inject a little Kryptonite into their drama.

           

Still, part of me is saddened by the fact that the Romantic image of Thoreau as expressed in TNT now seems contrived and in need of revision.  The enormous and unprecedented popular appeal of the drama during the 1970s clearly indicates that the original audience did not view Thoreau’s moral perfection as a problem.  The relative obscurity of the play in 1980s and 1990s points to a hardening of the arteries of our collective idealism.  Whether this disillusion comes as a result of a failed social revolution or as a component of the diminished reverence given to authors in society is unclear.  What is clear, however, is that Lawrence and Lee’s “NOW THOREAU” no longer rings true.  Far from expressing Edel’s image of “the writer’s soul,” many of today’s literary dramas instead seek to indict or crucify our authors.  Tom Dulack’s lacerating depiction of Ezra Pound in Incommunicado, Michael Hasting’s freezing portrait of T.S. Eliot in Tom and Viv, and Joan Schenkar’s  monstrous parody of Henry James in Signs of Life exist as three examples.  Although our fascination with authors survives into postmodernity, our desire to emulate and celebrate them at times seems as far away as the night Thoreau spent in jail.

 

 

 



Notes

1              Coleridge, Samul Taylor.  Biographia Literaria.  The Norton Anthology of English Literature.  Fifth Edition.  Ed.  M.H. Abrams (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1987), 1600.

 

2               Thoreau, Henry David.  The Heart of Thoreau’s Journals.  Ed. Odell Shepard (New York:  Houghton Mifflin Company, 1927), 84.

 

[iii]              Lord, Albert Bates.  The Singer of Tales(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960), viii.

 

[iv]              Barthes, Roland.  Image, Music, Text (New York:  Hill and Wang, 1977), 142.

 

[v]               Watson, George.  "Are Poems Historical Acts?"  Contexts of Criticism .  Ed. Donald Keesey (Mountain View CA:  Mayfield, 1994), 30.

 

[vi]              Edel, Leon.  Literary Biography  (Garden City, New York:  Doubleday, 1959), 43.

 

[vii]             Approximately twenty years later, in his essay "The Figure Under the Carpet," Edel tellingly modifies his Romantic terminology of the "writer's soul" to something more reflective of modern and postmodern distrust of the author's significance.  In this later texts, he states that the primary tast of the literary biographer is to identify the "mask" of the biographical subject.  "In doing this," he writes, "we have won half the battle.  The other half is his real battle, the most difficult part of his task—his search for what I call the figure under the carpet, the evidence in the reverse of the tapestry, the life-myth of a given mask."  Edel, Leon.  "The Figure Under the Carpet."  Telling Lives: The Biographer's Art (Washington: New Republic Books, 1979), 24-25.

 

[viii] I use the term “literary drama” to designate a collection of briographical performance texts in which actual authors serve as primary characters.  To date, I’ve located over eighty such dramas.  Recent examples include John Hare’s The Judas Kiss and the Oscar winnign film, Shakespeare in Love.  For a detailed definition and discussion of Literary Drama, see Hubbard, Rober.  “The Author on the Boards:  Intertextuality, Biography, and Literary Biographical Drama.”  Dissertation.  Blowling Green State University, 1995.  Ronald Shields, Advisor.

 

[ix] Lawrence and Lee commonly abbreviate the titles of their plays for reference purposes.  For example, their correspondences contain references to ITW (Inherit the Wind), GAH (The Gang’s All Here), TIM (The Incomparable Max), etc.  In one letter, Lee comments, “Imagine our delight the fisr time we referred to The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail as TNT!  It was accidental, so help me—but we think it fits the play:  explosive!”  (qtd. In Gerrard, Gene. “New Play Has World Premiere.”  The Columbus Citizen Journal , 22 April 1970: 12.)

 

[x] Mitchell, Karen.  “Seamless Intertexts:  Extrinsic and Intrinsic Intertextuality and Emily Mann’s Execution of Justice.”  Text and Performance Quarterly 13 (1993):  44-60.  “Intrinsic” intertextuality, according to Mitchell, describes intertextual material transcribed directly from its source text into the performance text.  Mitchell provides four categories of intrinsic intertextuality: lifted texts, allusion, found discourse, and cultural discourse (48).  The first three are especially useful for the needs of this study and warrant a brief explanation at this time.  “Lifted texts” are those intertexts that “exist verbatim elsewhere and are incorporated into the new work” (48).  The ost common example of lifted texts within literary drama are excerpts of poetry or prose taken from an author’s work.  Mitchell describes the intertextual properties of “allusion” as “the tacit references of one text oto another in which the referene signals the text’s previous context” (48).  In these moments of intertextuality, the primary text is present, but only as a referent.  As a biographical tool, the effects of allusoin may very greatly.  Allusoin may serve as something as innocent as a look into the futre.  For example in TNT, the title character repeatedly refers to the theories associated in his writing, even though the theatrical persona has not yet written much of the source material to which he is “alluding.”  Finally, intertexts in the form of “found discourse” compose a powerufl tool in the creation o fbiogrpahy in LBD.  Examples include recorded interviews, speeches, trial transcripts, private letters, and other documentation.  Mitchell describes this form of intertextuality as “extremely covert” because it is virtually impossible for audience members to “distinguish ‘found discourse’ from ‘fictionalized discourse’ without the help of extratextual sources” (50).

 

[xi] “Extrinsic” intertextuality derives from the reader-centered theories of John Fiske, Robert Scholes, and Roland Barthes and is used to predit and explain the personal reactions a reader carries for a text (Mitchell 46).  This is to say that extrinsic intertextuality only exists in the response of the audience; it appears nowhere on the printed page or in the visual language of performance.  As an example of this condition, Mitchell refers to audience/text dynamics occurring when a film set in the 1960s, such as Oliver Stone’s JFK, is performed in the context of the 1990s.

 

[xii]  All three sections of this investigation are aided greatly by time spent in the Lawrence and Lee Collection held exclusively within the Jerome and Lawrence and Robert E. Lee Research Institute at The Ohio State University.  A gift from Lawrence and Lee to their alma mater, this collection contains 672 plays (man signed and inscribed), 221 other books, 691 playbills, 7 original manuscripts, 145 photographs, 324 journal and magazine articles, 2 video tapes, one cassette tape, several transcipts of interviews, personal letters, clippings, etc.

 

[xiii] Guernsey, Otis L., ed. The Best Plays of 1969-70 (New York: Dodd, Mead, and Company, 1971), 40.

 

[xiv] Fink, Lawrence E. “From Thought to Theatre: Creation, Development, and Production of The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail by Jerome Lawrene and Robert E Lee.” master’s thesis.  Allen Woods, Advisor. 3-4.

 

[xv] Berkowirtz, Gerald. New Broadways: Theatre across America, 1959-1980 (Totowa, N.J.: Rowana dn Little fiel, 1982), 80.

 

[xvi] O’Reily, William.  “The Office of Advanced Drama Research Closes.”  TCG Newsletter (Octover 1977): 1.

 

[xvii] Woods, Alan., ed. The Selected Plays of Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee (Columbus, Ohio:  Ohio State University Press, 1995), 452.

 

[xviii] The information  used form Fink’s study draws from a variety of news releases and memos located in the American Playwrights Collection housed at The Ohio State University.  Fink deserves credit for indexing this information into a usable format, thus saving an immense amout of time tracking down individual sources.  Although indebted to it, my study builds and goews beyond Fink’s investigation.  Whereas Fink’s work is primarily descriptive of the source texts comprising TNT, my analysis draws conclusions as to how the placement of these texts influences the overall theatricality of the play and hleps to fashion a Romantically inspired biographical person.

 

[xix] Thoreau, Henry David.  “Civil Disobedience.”  Henr David Thoreau: Selected Writings. Ed. Lawrence Leary (Arlingotn Heights, Illioniose: AGHM Publishing Corporation, 1958), 26.

 

[xx] Fink identifies a number of quotations taken from Thoreau’s writing that appear in TNT.  BY his own admission, his access to Lawrence and Lee’s preliminary notes for the play made Fink’s location of lifted texts considerably easier.  Aside form famous quotations such as “a different drummer” and “Simplify, simplify, simplify,” the detetion of lifted texts oin TNT would otherwise come down to scanning large numbers of pages in hopes of identifying syntactical similarities with passages from the drama.  But by recording their source material in their notebook, Lawrence and Lee greatly reduced the difficulties of locating seamessly placed lifted texts.

 

[xxi] The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail (New York:  Hill and Want, 1970), 78.  also qtd. In Fink 14.

 

[xxii] Thoreau, Henry David.  Walden (Garden City, NY:  Anchor Press/Double Day, 1973), 80.

 

[xxiii] Lawrence, Jerome and Rober E. Lee.  “Thoreau Plums.”  Lawrence and Lee Collection 17:11. n.p.:  The Ohio State University, 1970: n. pag.

 

[xxiv] Lawrence, Jerome and Robert E. Lee.  “Preliminary Directing Notes.”  Lawrence and Lee Collection 16:11. n.p.:  The Ohio State University, 1970:  n. pag.

 

[xxv] Lawrence, Jerome.  “Notes on Thoreau’s Journals.”  Lawrence and Lee Collections 15:4. n.p.:  The Ohio State University, n.d. n. pag.

 

[xxvi] Since this early draft was written almost excluseively by Lawrence, I am estimating that he is responsible for the scribbling on the preliminary floor plan.

 

[xxvii] Lawrence, Jerome.  Lawrence Floor Plan.”  Lawrence and Lee Collection 16:1 n.p.:  The Ohio Staet University, 1969. n. pag.

 

[xxviii] Lawrence, Jerome.  “A Different Drummer” (typed manuscript).  Lawrence and Lee Collection  16:1 n.p.: The Ohio State University, 1968.

 

[xxix] Lennebach, Jonathan. “Projector Notes.”  Lawrence and Lee Collection 16:17. n.p.:  The Ohio State University, 1970: n. pag.

 

[xxx] Shepard, Odell.  Introduction.  The Heart of Thoreau’s Journals (New York:  Houghton Mifflin Company, 1927), v.

 

[xxxi] Whicher, George F. Walden Revisited:  A Centennial Tribute to Henry David Thoreau (New York: Packard and Company, 1945), 91.

 

[xxxii] Note that the words “Boston policeman” are taken directly from Thoreau’s journal entry.  The journal entry does not, however, provide any indication that Williams was ever apprehended by the policeman.

 

[xxxiii] Barnes, Clive.  “Lawrence and Lee Cull Action from a Night.”  New York Times  2 Nov. 1970, natl. ed: 66.

 

[xxxiv] Lawrence, Jerome and Robert E. Lee. “Meeting with APT Board.”  Lawrence and Lee Collection 16:1. n.p.:  The Ohio State University, 1968. n. pag.

 

[xxxv] Lawrence, Jerome and Robert E. Lee.  “Goodman Program Notes.”  Lawrence and Lee Collection 17:2. n.p.:  The Ohio State University, 1970. n. pag.

 

 

Taken from:

Hubbard, Robert.  “Devising the “Writer’s Soul” in Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee’s the Night Thoreau Spent in Jail.”  The Concord Saunterer.  ed. Schneider, Richard J.  New Series Volume 9, 2001. 15-38