Personal Reactions to George Benard Shaw's "Candida"

This is the final copy of a response paper I handed in today from my Intro to Drama class.  It deals with my reactions to the titular character of George Bernard Shaw's "Candida".  This is my intellectual property and I mean it to contribute an anecdotal and personal encounter I had with this play to the current discussion.  This is not intended for someone to steal it and hand it in as their own work, and I do not condone that behavior.  With that said, enjoy:

 

One of the points of difficulty I have encountered in this class came when I read George Bernard Shaw’s Candida.  My feelings and perception of the woman Candida had been turned on their heads by the time I had finished reading the play.  I went into the play with a sort of grudge against Candida, and I came out full of respect and admiration for her.  This essay explores my thought-process for approaching her character.

            When I read this play, my expectation of a strong woman was different than the strength that Candida has—which is pretty ironic because in a lengthy past relationship, I was very much like Candida is to Morrell, and I thought that was the height of strength.  I engaged in a fair amount of self-sacrifice for the boy I loved, which I feel is what Candida does, but the sacrifice of one’s personal ambitions for someone you love is much less of a painful thing because you love them.  It was a fair trade in my mind.  This relationship ended painfully, however, and it presented an enormous challenge to my perception of the sacrifices I had made for him—I decided that it was absolute folly to make someone other than myself the priority in my life.  It simply doesn’t make sense to have anyone else at the center of your world, because you can’t ever be certain that they’re going to always be there.  So, because of my newfound attitude towards relationships I was less inclined to respect Candida as a servile type of partner.

            Another thing that affected the mindset in which I approached the character Candida is that the play I had read just before I came to Candida was Ibsen’s Hedda Gabbler.  Now, it doesn’t take much to see that Candida and Hedda are two vastly different women, polar opposites even.  In comparison with Hedda’s incredible boldness and self-centered manipulation—which I hold in great admiration—a woman like Candida pales.  Hedda’s character fell more in line with my perception of what a woman’s strength is, or should be. 

            The things Candida says in the beginning of the play, like “ten shillings for a three minutes drive!  Oh dear!”, and “Yes, onions.  Not even Spanish ones; nasty little red onions.” made me feel like she was just a shallow woman who spoke only trivial little things and was oblivious to the events in her own house.  For example, after the blowout between Morrell and Eugene, she comes back into the room after Morrell has almost struck the boy, and doesn’t appear to detect a whiff of the incredible tension that exists in that room.  Instead, the only thing she sees is the disheveled state of Eugene’s clothing; “Well, dear me, just look at you, going out into the street in that state!”  Candida seemed to me like a dumb little bird, just flitting around and spouting happy little chirps, and I can’t really respect someone like that. 

            My feelings for her started to change when she reveals that she is not unaware of Eugene’s infatuation with her.  She speaks to Morrell very wisely;

“Ah, James, how little you understand me, to talk of your confidence in my goodness and purity!  I would give them both to poor Eugene as willingly as I would give my shawl to a beggar dying of cold, if there were nothing else to restrain me.” (p. 165) 

Candida would give the same amount of immense love she provides for her husband to Eugene if not for her obligation to Morrell.  She makes no explicit mention of whether or not she loves Eugene—her only concern is “the sort of woman that will teach it [love] to him.”  This struck me as quite selfless.

            What cemented my respect for Candida was her speech to Eugene and Morrell when she chooses her husband over the poet and explains all that she does for Morrell.  This reminded me of what I used to think strength in a woman was, and I saw that Candida was absolutely full of it.  She says of Morrell;

“I build a castle of comfort and indulgences and love for him, and stand sentinel always to keep little vulgar cares out.  I make him master here, though he does not know it, and could not tell you a moment ago how it came to be so.” (p. 181)

I feel that this attitude is very much in line with the Victorian sentiment that women belong in the domestic world, and I also think Shaw is showing his audience that even in a domestic sphere, women can be incredibly powerful.  This play, or at least this scene, is an acknowledgement of the power of women that most men do not ever see or think about.  After reading this, I came to see that Candida, in her own way is just as much of a strong woman as Hedda Gabbler, and perhaps, more so.

            Candida is the height and ideal of traditional feminine strength, and now that I understand this, she is my favorite character in the play, and I understand Shaw’s reasoning behind making her name the title.  Candida is the behind-the-scenes power that fuels the play.