Dear Brutus was first performed at Wyndham’s Theatre, London, in October 1917 and is Barrie’s most philosophically ambitious play — a fantasy that gives its characters a second chance at life and discovers that second chances change nothing essential. The title comes from Julius Caesar: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, / But in ourselves” — and the play dramatizes this thesis with characteristic Barrie wit and melancholy.
A group of guests at a country house (chosen by the mysterious host, Lob — a figure out of English fairy tradition) enter a magical wood on Midsummer Eve and live alternative versions of their lives. The unhappily married find themselves with different partners; the childless find themselves with children; the failed artist finds himself with talent. But in each case, the alternative life reproduces the same essential pattern: the philanderer philanders with his new wife; the weak man is weak in his new circumstances; the artist still fails, in different ways.
The most moving storyline follows a painter named Doré who, in the magic wood, has the daughter he never had in reality — Margaret, a perfect child with whom he shares a perfect relationship. When dawn breaks and the enchantment ends, Margaret disappears, and Doré must return to his childless life knowing what he has lost. This scene — in which Barrie’s own childlessness and his complicated relationships with other people’s children are barely disguised — is among the most emotionally devastating in his work.
Collecting Dear Brutus
First edition (Hodder & Stoughton, London, 1923): Cloth binding, dust jacket.
Market values:
- First edition in dust jacket: $75–$200
- Without jacket: $20–$50