More Portmanteau Plays

In Short

This collection showcases the work of a dramatist central to the "independent theater" movement, which sought to bring intimate, imaginative, and repertory-style plays to American audiences. Featuring three distinct pieces—The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree, The Very Naked Boy, and Jonathan Makes a Wish—the book balances mythical beauty with sharp, contemporary human observation. It remains an essential document of its era, preserving the artistic philosophy of an auteur who believed that the stage should be a space for both profound emotional truth and simple, honest storytelling.

The Story

The collection opens with The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree, a Japanese-inspired legend centered on Obaa-San, a lonely, elderly woman mocked by her village for her appearance. Her isolation ends when she finds the Lady Aoyagi, who manifests as a spirit of her beloved tree. Their bond creates a sanctuary of peace until Riki, a poet, enters their lives. Aoyagi falls in love with Riki, but their happiness is poisoned by the Gaki of Kokoru—an eater of unrest—who uses their pride and insecurity to sow doubt between them. Riki and Aoyagi quarrel after a misunderstanding involving a mysterious woman at Ishiyama, leading Aoyagi to question her own worth. Obaa-San eventually intervenes, teaching them that true connection requires speaking from the heart rather than from wounded pride. The play concludes with a reconciliation, emphasizing that love is fragile but capable of bridging even the deepest misunderstandings.

The second piece, The Very Naked Boy, shifts the tone to a light, pointed comedy of manners. It follows a young, lovesick man, Henry, attempting to woo Genevieve while they are both trapped in a room. Their conversation is a clumsy, repetitive dance of attraction and feigned indifference. As Henry desperately tries to express his devotion, an unexpected, disruptive element appears: a boy hiding behind curtains who interrupts their romantic posturing. This physical intrusion exposes the absurdity of their social pretenses, forcing the characters to confront their true feelings beneath the layers of polite conversation.

Finally, Jonathan Makes a Wish tells the story of an artistic, sensitive young man living under the thumb of his rigid, authoritarian brother, John. Having run away years ago and returned with a physical deformity, Jonathan finds himself once again trapped in a household that values commercial success and engineering over his passion for theater. His uncle Nathaniel, a man of worldly understanding, returns to the family home and recognizes the boy's creative spirit. Nathaniel encourages Jonathan to pursue his true self, challenging John’s oppressive, "monarchical" grip on the family. After a confrontation that lays bare the history of their strained household, Jonathan finds the courage to reject the path laid out for him. By the end, he resolves to leave the stifling atmosphere of his brother’s house, choosing the uncertainty of his own artistic path over the safety of a conventional life.

How It Unfolds

The legend emerges In the first act of the opening play, Obaa-San lives in solitary rejection by her neighbors until she discovers a supernatural companion in Aoyagi. This quiet beginning establishes a world where the boundary between the natural and spiritual is thin and filled with yearning.

The corruption of peace The Gaki of Kokoru introduces discord, exploiting the lovers' pride to replace their joy with suspicion. This middle phase demonstrates how small, external doubts can dismantle the most sincere human bonds.

The restoration of truth Obaa-San bridges the gap between Riki and Aoyagi, guiding them back to one another through honest communication. The play ends on a note of emotional clarity, showing that love must be defended against the "stranger" of doubt.

The comedy of manners In The Very Naked Boy, the focus shifts to the awkward, circular dialogue of young lovers trapped by their own social masks. The beat relies on the contrast between high-flown romantic declarations and the intrusive, grounding presence of a hidden witness.

The family conflict Jonathan Makes a Wish introduces a household dominated by an austere authority figure and a young man longing for creative freedom. The narrative moves from the stifling weight of familial tradition to the liberation found through mutual understanding.

The final assertion Nathaniel challenges the head of the household, affirming that a person’s worth is found in their own chosen path rather than in someone else's mold. The story closes with the promise that Jonathan will finally pursue the artistic life he has secretly nurtured.

The People

Obaa-San is the anchor of the first play, a woman whose isolation hides a profound capacity for love. She serves as the wise observer who sees past the cruelty of the village. Aoyagi, the spirit of the willow tree, represents pure devotion, while Riki, the poet, embodies the idealism of youth; both must learn to set aside the "petty, festering egoism" that threatens their relationship.

In the second play, Henry and Genevieve are archetypes of young, bashful, and defensive lovers. They are defined by their inability to speak directly, relying on rituals of social avoidance until they are forced into honesty.

Jonathan is the heart of the final drama, a young man who has been physically and emotionally constrained by his brother, John. John acts as the embodiment of rigid, unyielding tradition, viewing art as a useless pursuit. Their uncle, Nathaniel, acts as the catalyst for change. Having lived his own life as a wanderer, he provides the necessary perspective to help Jonathan realize that his life is his own to define. Each character in this final act must decide whether to continue playing an inherited role or to step forward as an individual.

In Its Own Voice

"It is the human heart with its passions, its fears, its regrets, and its aspirations that concerns us here; not the human mind with its essentially microcosmic point of view, and its petty, festering egoism."

The editor introduces the thematic focus of the plays, arguing that emotional sincerity is more vital than intellectual distance.

"She passes through the soft blue curtains, but unless you are willing to follow her, turn back now."

This invitation appears in the introduction, warning the reader that these plays require a leap into a world of imagination.

"Almost every unhappiness comes because we speak too much of our pride and speak too little of our hearts."

Obaa-San offers this counsel to the lovers in the first play, identifying the core conflict of human communication.

What It's Really About

The collection explores the tension between the individual’s inner life and the pressures of external society. Whether through the lens of folklore, social comedy, or domestic drama, the book examines how pride, fear, and rigid expectations stifle the human spirit. The central argument is that happiness is a choice one makes by prioritizing the "heart" over the "head" or the "monarchy" of others' opinions. It asks difficult questions: What is the true value of a life? Can someone truly be happy while living out someone else's design? The plays serve as a gentle, persistent argument for personal authenticity, suggesting that the most meaningful path is the one that allows for both individual expression and honest connection with others.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the quiet, deliberate pace of early twentieth-century drama will find much to admire in these pages. There is a delicate, almost fragile quality to these plays—an insistence that the theater should be a place of beauty and emotional resonance rather than just loud performance. It feels like stepping into a theater where the lights are dim, the curtains are velvet, and the focus is entirely on the inner lives of the people on stage.

The book is not without its challenges. The language, particularly in the dialogue of the Japanese-inspired fable, reflects a period style that may feel stylized or overly formal to modern ears. Additionally, the social attitudes of the time—the rigid gender roles and the notions of "useful work"—are present in the domestic conflicts of the final play. However, these period characteristics serve as a window into a specific moment in American history when artists were first beginning to break away from commercial, plot-heavy plays to explore more symbolic and interior themes. It is a thoughtful, sincere, and beautifully crafted book that reminds us that the most important theater is the kind that helps us understand, and perhaps forgive, ourselves.