Nihilist is that kind of word that we all misuse and love at the same time. In order to set my mind clear about the term I went back to the good old dictionary (Google) for a clearer definition. Strictly speaking, nihilism is the doctrine of negation of all or many aspects of life. The definition becomes more interesting when Russian politics gets involved. Nihilism then became a political movement, developed in a time of unrest, to reject all authorities, it was a movement close to anarchy in its use of violence and bombs in aiming to stir social change. However, what does Oscar Wilde, the nation’s most famous late Victorian playwright, have to do will all those definitions?
Well, Oscar Wilde’s The Nihilists (or Vera as it is sometimes known), does not come even close to the expectations raised by a dictionary definition of the title. Written in 1880 this melodramatic tragedy set at the Russian court was both the author’s first play and his first theatre fiasco: ‘Never mind, Oscar; other great men have had their dramatic failures!’ stated Alfred Bryan at the time. Indeed as all great men sometimes fail, it is all the more interesting to observe the good and the bad they have produced. Matthew Perkins, the director, has certainly decided to take on a challenging play for St Anne’s Art Week. But why did the author not strike a success with his first show? Maybe because the text is over-literary and the writing not adaptable to the stage? That perhaps doens’t seem too bad a fault now when many, including myself, are addicted to the mythical figure of the most famous English dandy. If you are under the spell of Wilde, the epitome of wit and literary talent, you will love The Nihilists and affectionately forget about the unsuccessful monologues just as you would do with an old friend who tells you the same story over and over again.
The Nihilists as a play is not just the exotic story of a Russian court, it is the mirror of Wilde and he is everywhere in it, showing himself in different characters, from the paranoid Tsar, to the puns of the machiavellian prime minister who states: ‘To make a good salad is to be a brilliant diplomatist – the problem is so entirely the same in both cases. To know exactly how much oil one must put with one’s vinegar.’
What would the playwright himself feel about his first play being lovingly undertaken by a ambitious group of students daring to stray off the map? He once stated ‘Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.’ Let’s hope that the audience of The Nihilists isn’t too tempted to join the revolution, drawn in by great sentiments, beautiful slogans and invectives. Towards the end of the play Vera Sabouroff, our protagonist and hero, eventually chooses the path she is going to try to walk as a nihilist and a woman. What will you decide to do? Will you follow Wilde for better or worse, through his very first steps?
