Augustus Does His Bit: A True-to-Life Farce — A Closer Reading

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In Category - Fantasy Juvenile Worlds

Authors: Shaw, Bernard, 1856-1950 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2002 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: English drama (Comedy); World War, 1914-1918 -- Great Britain -- Drama Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 10,177

Reading time 45 min

Text sections 2

Augustus Does His Bit: A True-to-Life Farce — A Closer Reading can be approached with a clearer sense of reading commitment from its source measurements: 10,177 words, 45 min estimated reading time, and 2 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 13.1 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “English drama (Comedy),” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #3487

Shaw's farce follows Lord Augustus Highcastle, a pompous colonel, as he mismanages war duties in a small town, revealing bureaucratic absurdity through sharp dialogue and farcical situations.

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File: pg3487

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Produced by Eve Sobol

AUGUSTUS DOES HIS BIT

By George Bernard Shaw

I wish to express my gratitude for certain good offices which Augustus secured for me in January, 1917. I had been invited to visit the theatre of war in Flanders by the Commander-in-Chief: an invitation which was, under the circumstances, a summons to duty. Thus I had occasion to spend some days in procuring the necessary passport and other official facilities for my journey. It happened just then that the Stage Society gave a performance of this little play. It opened the heart of every official to me. I have always been treated with distinguished consideration in my contracts with bureaucracy during the war; but on this occasion I found myself persona grata in the highest degree. There was only one word when the formalities were disposed of; and that was "We are up against Augustus all day." The showing-up of Augustus scandalized one or two innocent and patriotic critics who regarded the prowess of the British army as inextricably bound up with Highcastle prestige. But our Government departments knew better: their problem was how to win the war with Augustus on their backs, well-meaning, brave, patriotic, but obstructively fussy, self-important, imbecile, and disastrous.

Save for the satisfaction of being able to laugh at Augustus in the theatre, nothing, as far as I know, came of my dramatic reduction of him to absurdity. Generals, admirals, Prime Ministers and Controllers, not to mention Emperors, Kaisers and Tsars, were scrapped remorselessly at home and abroad, for their sins or services, as the case might be. But Augustus stood like the Eddystone in a storm, and stands so to this day. He gave us his word that he was indispensable and we took it.

Augustus Does His Bit was performed for the first time at the Court Theatre in London by the Stage Society on the 21st January, 1917, with Lalla Vandervelde as The Lady, F. B.J. Sharp as Lord Augustus Highcastle, and Charles Rock as Horatio Floyd Beamish.

AUGUSTUS DOES HIS BIT

The Mayor's parlor in the Town Hall of Little Pifflington. Lord Augustus Highcastle, a distinguished member of the governing class, in the uniform of a colonel, and very well preserved at forty-five, is comfortably seated at a writing-table with his heels on it, reading The Morning Post. The door faces him, a little to his left, at the other side of the room. The window is behind him. In the fireplace, a gas stove. On the table a bell button and a telephone. Portraits of past Mayors, in robes and gold chains, adorn the walls. An elderly clerk with a short white beard and whiskers, and a very red nose, shuffles in.

AUGUSTUS [hastily putting aside his paper and replacing his feet on the floor]. Hullo! Who are you?

THE CLERK. The staff [a slight impediment in his speech adds to the impression of incompetence produced by his age and appearance].

AUGUSTUS. You the staff! What do you mean, man?

THE CLERK. What I say. There ain't anybody else.

AUGUSTUS. Tush! Where are the others?

THE CLERK. At the front.

AUGUSTUS. Quite right. Most proper. Why aren't you at the front?

THE CLERK. Over age. Fifty-seven.

AUGUSTUS. But you can still do your bit. Many an older man is in the G.R.'s, or volunteering for home defence.

THE CLERK. I have volunteered.

AUGUSTUS. Then why are you not in uniform?

THE CLERK. They said they wouldn't have me if I was given away with a pound of tea. Told me to go home and not be an old silly. [A sense of unbearable wrong, till now only smouldering in him, bursts into flame.] Young Bill Knight, that I took with me, got two and sevenpence. I got nothing. Is it justice? This country is going to the dogs, if you ask me.

AUGUSTUS [rising indignantly]. I do not ask you, sir; and I will not allow you to say such things in my presence. Our statesmen are the greatest known to history. Our generals are invincible. Our army is the admiration of the world. [Furiously.] How dare you tell me that the country is going to the dogs!

THE CLERK. Why did they give young Bill Knight two and sevenpence, and not give me even my tram fare? Do you call that being great statesmen? As good as robbing me, I call it.

AUGUSTUS. That's enough. Leave the room. [He sits down and takes up his pen, settling himself to work. The clerk shuffles to the door. Augustus adds, with cold politeness] Send me the Secretary.

THE CLERK. I'M the Secretary. I can't leave the room and send myself to you at the same time, can I?

Continue Reading →

Shaw's preface to Augustus Does His Bit sets the play's satirical target: the 'well-meaning, brave, patriotic, but obstructively fussy, self-important, imbecile, and disastrous' figure of Augustus. Written in 1917 and first performed by the Stage Society, the play is a 'True-to-Life Farce' that mocks bureaucratic incompetence during wartime. The opening stage direction places Lord Augustus Highcastle in the Mayor's parlor of Little Pifflington, reading The Morning Post with his heels on the desk—a posture that immediately signals his complacency and self-regard.

The Preface as a Key to Reading

Shaw's preface is not merely a historical note; it directly informs how the play should be read. He recounts how the Stage Society performance of this 'little play' opened doors for him when dealing with wartime bureaucracy, because officials recognized themselves in Augustus. The preface identifies Augustus as a type, not an individual: 'We are up against Augustus all day.' This framing encourages readers to see the farce as a critique of systemic ineptitude rather than a personal attack. The play's subtitle, 'A True-to-Life Farce,' underscores Shaw's claim that absurdity and reality coexist in wartime administration.

Augustus's Voice and Self-Importance

From his first line—'Hullo! Who are you?'—Augustus's speech reveals his assumption of authority and his disdain for those beneath him. He addresses the elderly clerk as 'my good fellow' and dismisses his concerns. When discussing a list of gun emplacements, Augustus reveals his priorities: he fears being 'chaffed' by his friend Blueloo more than the list falling into enemy hands. His casual admission that the German War Office is 'no better than any other War Office' is based on his observation of his brothers-in-law, one of whom serves on the German general staff. This blend of personal connections and national security highlights the farcical gap between his responsibilities and his understanding.

The Lady's Role and the Play's Structure

The Lady, who appears to be a spy, serves as a foil to Augustus. Her polite, seemingly deferential questions expose his vanity and incompetence. When she asks if the list of gun emplacements matters, Augustus replies that it does—because if a spy got it, Blueloo would tell the story at dinner parties. The Lady's ironic responses—'Of course not. Who does?'—underscore the absurdity. The play's structure, with its single setting and limited characters, focuses attention on the dialogue, where Shaw's wit operates through understatement and reversal. The Lady's request to decipher Lucy's letter further emphasizes Augustus's misplaced priorities.

The Clerk's Transformation and Farce

A key farcical moment occurs when the clerk re-enters, now clean-shaven and in khaki, having been recruited. His earlier shuffling, impeded speech, and red nose contrast sharply with his new military bearing. This transformation literalizes the play's theme: the war changes everyone except Augustus. The clerk's line 'They've passed me' and his uniform create a visual joke that underscores the gap between Augustus's bluster and the reality of war. The farce relies on such physical and situational comedy, with Augustus remaining oblivious to the irony of his own irrelevance.

Readers should attend to Shaw's preface as a guide to the play's satirical intent. The farce is not merely a comedy of manners but a pointed critique of a class that, in Shaw's view, hindered the war effort. The dialogue rewards careful attention to what is said and what is left unsaid, as characters often reveal more than they intend. The play's brevity—around 45 minutes of reading—makes it an efficient, concentrated example of Shaw's dramatic method.

I keep thinking about how Shaw’s colonel struts through his muddles, so sure of his own importance, and then I remember those dance notes—the way they quiet the noise into something almost reverent. They lingered with me like a half-remembered tune. It’s a strange, gentle pairing. Two plays for dancers — Reading Notes felt like finally sitting down after a long, ridiculous day.