Elliot Ziwira @ The Book Store
There is so much to life than meets the eye, so much to pain and suffering than the soul can contemplate and so many skeletons in the closet of the man of fortune than he realises. There is so much going on and nothing really happening for the world is a battlefield where presumed victors take all and losers go away empty-handed, yet everyone remains a victim.

One sometimes wonders if the man of means is not poorer than the man of disjointed ends if all he can think of is gain, gain and more gain. The late reggae superstar Bob Marley once said: “Some people are so poor, all they have is money.”

He could not have been detached from the truth because money alone cannot make somebody rich, no! It can only make him or her poorer, for what suffers first is his or her soul; it becomes so disjointed from reality that it tells his psyche that he is a deity and he starts living like one.

It reminds one of the madman in Friedrich Nietzsche’s “The Parable of the Madman” (1882) who takes his lit lantern to a marketplace and cries, “Where has God gone. I shall tell you. We have killed him — you and I. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, murderers of all murderers console ourselves? Must we not ourselves become gods simply to be worth of i?”

The world has become so individualistic that it frightens the innocence out of all of us. The mighty fish of prey roams the shores in search of the smaller fish that forever ekes out a non-existent living from receding algae. The glaring gap between the rich and the poor keeps on widening as power in all its facets is used to choke them into submission. The class struggles which are as old as humanity itself show no signs of ebbing and continue to be a bane on societal regeneration, tranquillity and harmony.

But is there no hope yet dear gentle reader for our redemption? Is everything lost on our part? Who is to blame for the quagmire that we seem to be perpetually enmeshed in; the man of fortune who conceitedly keep on spewing on the downtrodden or the oppressed themselves who believe that they are powerless against their fate or destiny? Should we all wait for an inspector, literally and metaphorically, to jolt us into introspection instead of perpetually questioning our actions?

It is against this backdrop that the reading of J. B. Priestley’s play “An Inspector Calls” (1947) becomes not only apt but revealing, evocative and thought provoking.

Set in the industrial town of Brumley, North Midlands in the spring of 1912, the timeless play purveys the claustrophobic nature of the family unit, alienation, as well as the struggle between affluence and poverty, or as Arthur Birling puts it; the tiff “between Capital and Labour”.

Through, setting, characterisation and metaphor the playwright adeptly explores the nature of oppression; physical, emotional, psychological and mental through the eyes of the oppressors in juxtaposition with the travails of the oppressed. Capitalising on the elements of surprise, humour and whimsicality Priestley brings to a cirque the different aspects of expectation in a society sutured by avarice, hypocrisy and materialism.

As the play opens Arthur Birling, who is a wealthy industrialist, sits in the family dining-room with his wife Sybil, daughter Sheila, son Eric and his son-in-law-to-be Gerald Croft. Gerald and Sheila are newly engaged so a celebratory mood engulfs the air.

The conversations shift back and forth from business to social and politics to general fears about the impending war, but the general air is that of affluence and its disparaging flair against the wretched and downtrodden. Birling is portrayed as irritatingly arrogant and selfish as he tells Gerald and Eric of the need for a man to work for himself and not to be inspired by anyone else except himself.

The play takes a twist when Inspector Goole calls to inquire about the Birlings’ relationship with one Eva Smith, who has just committed suicide.

The audience is taken on a rollercoaster voyage of hilarity, intrigue and suspense through the Inspector’s wit and intelligent questioning which exposes the Birlings’ foibles which directly or indirectly leads to the death of the desperate 24-year-old woman.

Priestley advocates a classless society which caters for all with everyone bearing burdens for everyone else because as humanity we remain one, no matter our backgrounds or social standing.

The powerful should stand for the weak not only as employers but social pillars firmly rooted in our ethos as human beings. He effectively does so through the use of a metonymic affluent family whose happiness hinges on the suffering of others who to them are as detached as the North and South Poles.

However, the social standing that puts them at the upper echelon because of wealth fails to insulate them against claustrophobia and disintegration, which are both human weakness.

The use of both the literal and metaphorical inspector makes the play not only entertaining but poking and evocative as humanity is given a chance to introspect itself.

The circle of self-introspection begins when the Inspector gives Birling Eva Smith’s photograph, and he at once recognises her as “one of (his) employees . . . who had a lot to say — far too much — so she had to go” so he “discharged her”. The audience learns that her crime was asking for a living wage which later degenerated into a strike that subsequently claimed her scalp and those of three others for being the ring leaders.

When it is brought to him that he should be made accountable, Birling vehemently denies “responsibility”, “to this wretched girl’s suicide” to which the assertive Inspector says: “What happened to her then may have determined what happened to her afterwards, and what happened to her afterwards may have driven her to suicide.”

Pretence and shame are given new impetus as all the characters are linked to the girl’s ill fortune and ultimately her sad demise. All their shenanigans are exposed in a sizzling yet sad repertoire of suffering and hopelessness.

After her dismissal Eva Smith finds herself at the deeper end of suffering until she chances on a job at Milwards, a reputable shop for the well-heeled. She loses her job because a customer is so irked with her that she tells the manager of the shop that if the girl is not fired then she will never set her foot there again and that she would influence her mother to close their account. She is the power of wealth and the debilitating nature of poverty.

The customer who sends her packing turns out to be Sheila Birling because she is jealous of her beauty and the fact that the dress that looks grumpy on her suits the poor girl with large and beautiful eyes.

Thrust into the cruel world again and she decides to change her name to Daisy Renton believing that probably her misfortunes are linked to her name, and not specifically her class. She hooks up with Gerald at the Palace Bar who after rescuing her from the jaws of another predatory man of means, becomes yet another fish of prey. He uses her for sex when it suits him and discards her after about six months.

Holding on to flimsy hope she leaves Brumley for a quieter existence with the hope of prolonging her love for the man who plays around with her feelings and uses her because of her vulnerability and lack.

As her destiny is linked to the same people she attempts to runaway from and who are also running away from themselves she bumps into the now heavily drinking Eric who impregnates her. Naturally they cannot marry because of class restrictions, and she refuses to accept the money that Eric steals from his father and gives her.

Pregnant, dejected, disillusioned, frustrated and rejected she seeks help from a charity organisation, but as fate would have it Mrs Birling is the chairperson and because she refuses to buy her story the desperate young woman is denied help. With nothing more to fight for she commits suicide, because in all her split personalities, suffering, despondency, rejection and hurt remain etched to her hopes, thus pushing her to the edge.

There is hope, however, as Eric and Sheila epitomising the tolerant and self-correcting younger generation are redeemed, but Mrs Birling, Gerald and Arthur Birling remain in their cocoons because they believe that the assertive Inspector is bogus, for no policeman could be so “extraordinary; so — so rude — and assertive”, especially to the upper class.

That Birling offers “thousands — yes thousands” for the Inspector to sweep the scandal under the carpet, shows that he still believes that money is the ultimate winner. The fact that Eva Smith in all her different personalities commits suicide spells doom for the oppressed who remain gagged as they are robbed of their voice.

The Inspector tells them: “One Eva Smith has gone – but there are millions and millions and millions of Eva Smiths and John Smiths still left with us, with their lives, their hopes and fears, their suffering, and chance of happiness, all intertwined with our lives, with what we think and do. We don’t live alone. We are members of one body. We are responsible for each other.”

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