15 October 1864
This sketch was Clemens' third consecutive weekly contribution to the Californian, and it continued (at least in the title) his rather lame joke about an unanswerable conundrum. Like the previous two sketches, its real subject was Mark Twain himself—here in the role of stuffed shirt, ostensibly showing the Californian editors how to write an opera review. His sketch is really a nonreview that concentrates on the fictional stagehand Signor Bellindo Alphonso Cellini—an “accomplished basso-relievo furniture-scout and sofa-shifter”—to the virtual exclusion of the real cast of Crown Diamonds, the members of Richings' Opera Troupe, who opened at Maguire's Academy of Music on 10 October 1864, the night Clemens attended.
By the time this sketch appeared in the Californian Clemens had left his post on the San Francisco Morning Call, for which he had earlier written several theater and opera notices. The basic joke in the present sketch may have been suggested by an item he had written for the Call in August 1864, a report on a recital at the fair of the Christian Commission:
The tableaux the other evening were gotten up in fine taste and gave great satisfaction, albeit while the one representing The Queen of Sheba at the Court of King Solomon, was before the house, the effect was unduly heightened by an assistant in citizen's dress rushing bald headed into Court, before he discovered that the curtain was still up. The Court betrayed surprise; and so would the original Solomon, if the same man, in the same modern costume, had ever appeared so unexpectedly before him. The intrusion was not premeditated; the gentleman was very deaf—so deaf, indeed, that he could not see that the curtain had not yet been lowered.1
Both in the Call item and in the present sketch Clemens commented indirectly on the dilemma of the local reporter, who was bound in duty to cover theatrical events. In 1906 he remembered that as a Call reporter he and his colleagues regularly
visited the six theaters, one after the other: seven nights in the week, three hundred and sixty-five nights in the year. We remained in each of those places five minutes, got the merest passing glimpse of play and opera, and with that for a text we “wrote up” those plays and operas, as the phrase goes, torturing our souls every night from the beginning of the year to the end of it in the effort to find something to say about those performances which we had not said a couple of hundred times before.2
Clemens' disquisition on the imaginary stagehand was, in some sense, a solution to this problem, and a better form of entertainment (if not of criticism) than what he called the “boshy criticisms on the opera” usually published in the Californian. Signor Bellindo Alphonso Cellini also anticipated, in obvious ways, Basil Stockmar, the book-agent character Clemens added to the plot of Hamlet, an idea that probably came to him in November 1873.3
In accordance with your desire, I went to the Academy of Music on Monday evening, to take notes and prepare myself to write a careful critique upon the opera of the Crown Diamonds Ⓔexplanatory note. That you considered me able to acquit myself creditably in this exalted sphere of literary labor, was gratifying to me, and I should even have felt flattered by it had I not known that I was so competent to perform the task well, that to set it for me could not be regarded as a flattering concession, but, on the contrary, only a just and deserved recognition of merit.
Now, to throw disguise aside and speak openly, I have long yearned for an opportunity to write an operatic diagnostical and analytical dissertation for you. I feel the importance of carefully-digested newspaper criticism in matters of this kind—for I am aware that by it the dramatic and musical tastes of a community are moulded, cultivated and irrevocably fixed—that by it these tastes are vitiated and debased, or elevated and ennobled, according to the refinement or vulgarity, and the competency or incompetency of the writers to whom this department of the public training is entrusted. If you would see around you a people who are filled with the keenest appreciation of perfection in musical execution and dramatic delineation, and painfully sensitive to the slightest departures from the true standard of art in these things, you must employ upon your newspapers critics capable of discriminating between merit and demerit, and alike fearless in [begin page 82] praising the one and condemning the other. Such a person—although it may be in some degree immodest in me to say so—I claim to be. You will not be surprised, then, to know that I read your boshy criticisms on the opera with the most exquisite anguish—and not only yours, but those which I find in every paper in San Francisco.
You do nothing but sing one everlasting song of praise; when an artist, by diligence and talent, makes an effort of transcendent excellence, behold, instead of receiving marked and cordial attention, both artist and effort sink from sight, and are lost in the general slough of slimy praise in which it is your pleasure to cause the whole company, good, bad and indifferent, to wallow once a week. With this brief but veryⒶalteration in the MS liberal and hearty expression of sentiment, I will drop the subject and leave you alone for the present, for it behooves me now to set you a model in criticism.
The opera of the Crown Diamonds was put upon the stage in creditable shape on Monday evening, although I noticed that the curtains of the “Queen of Portugal's” drawing-room were not as gorgeous as they might have been, and that the furniture had a second-hand air about it, of having seen service in the preceding reign. The acting and the vocalization, however, were, in the main, good. I was particularly charmed by the able manner in which Signor Bellindo Alphonso Cellini, the accomplished basso-relievo furniture-scout and sofa-shifter performed his part. I have before observed that this rising young artist gave evidence of the rarest genius in his peculiar department of operatic business, and have been annoyed at noticing with what studied care a venomous and profligate press have suppressed his name and suffered his sublimest efforts to pass unnoticed and unglorified. Shame upon such grovelling envy and malice! But, with all your neglect, you have failed to crush the spirit of the gifted furniture-scout, or seduce from him the affectionate encouragement and appreciation of the people. The moment he stepped upon the stage on Monday evening, to carry out the bandit chieftain'sⒶemendation valise, the upper circles, with one accord, shouted, “Supe! supe!” and greeted him with warm and generous applause. It was a princely triumph for Bellindo; he told me afterwards it was the proudest moment of his life.
[begin page 83]I watched Alphonso during the entire performance and was never so well pleased with him before, although I have admired him from the first. In the second act, when the eyes of the whole audience were upon him—when his every movement was the subject of anxiety and suspense—when everything depended upon his nerve and self-possession, and the slightest symptom of hesitation or lack of confidence would have been fatal—he stood erect in front of the cave, looking calmly and unflinchingly down upon the camp-stool for several moments, as one who has made up his mind to do his great work or perish in the attempt, and then seized it and bore it in triumph to the foot-lights! It was a sublime spectacle. There was not a dry eye in the house. In that moment, not even the most envious and uncharitable among the noble youth's detractors would have had the hardihood to say he was not endowed with a lofty genius.
Again, in the scene where the Prime Minister's nephew is imploring the female bandit to fly to the carriage and escape impending wrath, and when dismay and confusion ruled the hour, how quiet, how unmoved, how grandly indifferent was Bellindo in the midst of it all!—what stolidityⒶalteration in the MS Ⓐemendation Ⓐtextual note of expression lay upon his countenance! While all save himself were unnerved by despair, he serenely put forth his finger and mashed to a shapeless pulp a mosquito that loitered upon the wall, yet betrayed no sign of agitation the while. Was there nothing in this lofty contempt for the dangers which surrounded him that marked the actor destined hereafter to imperishable renown?
Possibly upon that occasion when it was necessary for Alphonso to remove two chairs and a table during the shifting of the scenes, he performed his part with undue precipitation; with the table upside down upon his head, and grasping the corners with hands burdened with the chairs, he appeared to some extent undignified when he galloped across the stage. Generally his conception of his part is excellent, but in this case I am satisfied he threw into it an enthusiasm not required and also not warranted by the circumstances. I think that careful study and reflection will convince him that I am right, and that the author of the opera intended that in this particular instance the furniture should be carried out with impressive solemnity. That he had this in view is [begin page 84] evidenced by the slow and stately measure of the music played by the orchestra at that juncture.
But the crowning glory of Cellini's performance that eveningⒶemendation was the placing of a chair for the Queen of Portugal to sit down in after she had become fatigued by earnestly and elaborately abusing the Prime Minister for losing the Crown Diamonds. He did not grab the chair by the hind leg and shove it awkwardly at her Majesty; he did not seize it by the seat and thrust it ungracefully toward her; he did not handle it as though he was undecided about the strict line of his duty or ignorant of the proper manner of performing it. He did none of these things. With a coolness and confidence that evinced the most perfect conception and the most consummate knowledge of his part, he came gently forward and laid hold of that chair from behind, set it in its proper place with a movement replete with grace, and then leaned upon the back of it, resting his chin upon his hand, and in this position smiled a smile of transfigured sweetness upon the audience over the Queen of Portugal's head. There shone the inspired actor! and the people saw and acknowledged him; they waited respectfully for Miss Richings to finish her song, and then with one impulse they poured forth upon him a sweeping tempest of applause.
At the end of the piece the idolized furniture-scout and sofa-skirmisher was called before the curtain by an enthusiastic shouting and clapping of hands, but he was thrust aside, as usual, and other artists, (who chose to consider the compliment as intended for themselves,) swept bowing and smirking along the footlights and received it. I swelled with indignation, but I summoned my fortitude and resisted the pressure successfully. I am still intact.
Take it altogether, the Crown Diamonds was really a creditable performance. I feel that I would not be doing my whole duty if I closed this critique without speaking of Miss Caroline Richings, Miss Jenny Kempton, Mr. Hill, Mr. Seguin and Mr. PeakesⒺexplanatory note, all of whom did fair justice to their several parts, and deserve a passing notice. With study, perseverance and attention, I have no doubt these vocalists will in time achieve a gratifying success in their profession.
I believe I have nothing further to say. I will call around, to-morrow, after you have had time to read, digest and pass your [begin page 85] judgment upon my criticism, and, if agreeable, I will hire out to you for some years in that line.
Mark Twain.Ⓐtextual note
P. S.—No answer to that conundrum this week. On account of over-exertion on it the old woman has got to having fits here lately. However, it will be forthcoming yet, when she runs out of them, if she don't die in the meantime, and I trust she will not. We may as well prepare ourselves for the worst, though, for it is not to be disguised that they are shaking her up mighty livelyⒶtextual note Ⓐalteration in the MS.
The first printing in the Californian 1 (15 October 1864): 1 is copy-text. Copies: Bancroft; clipping in Scrapbook 4, pp. 17–18, MTP; PH of the Yale Scrapbook, pp. 30–31. Since Mark Twain preserved a clipping of the Californian in the Yale Scrapbook (YSMT), where he revised it, he must have considered reprinting the sketch in JF1. The revised clipping remains intact in the scrapbook; the sketch was not reprinted in JF1, or during Clemens' lifetime.