Joe Turner's Come and Gone - Style

Style

While there are some depictions of unrealistic events, such as Loomis's "possession" and Bynum's stories about his shining man and inner song, style of Joe Turner is based in realism. In a relatively simple definition of realism, David Rush describes it as

"a style that attempts to depict life on stage as it is actually lived by the members of the audience. It shows us so-called everyday events happening to people like us who live in a world like ours and tells its story in a way that makes it appear logical and believable (191).

Joe Turner is exactly that, a linear story line with depictions of everyday life for the residents of the boardinghouse. While modern audiences can’t necessarily relate with all aspects of this culture, it is definitely plausible in the context of American history. Later Rush goes on to qualify realism by "three unities: time, place, and action (192)". Again this play follows this definition of realism in that it is linear plot, remains in the place- the boardinghouse in Pittsburgh- and effectively tells the story of the few people that live in this house.

In a review of the Ethel Barrymore staging of the play, Clive Barnes comments on the language, idiom, and mix of naturalism and symbolism are beautifully staged and the cast is excellent at depicting the realistic play and develop it a heartrending climax.

Read more about this topic:  Joe Turner's Come And Gone

Famous quotes containing the word style:

    There are neither good nor bad subjects. From the point of view of pure Art, you could almost establish it as an axiom that the subject is irrelevant, style itself being an absolute manner of seeing things.
    Gustave Flaubert (1821–1880)

    To write well, to have style ... is to paint. The master faculty of style is therefore the visual memory. If a writer does not see what he describes—countrysides and figures, movements and gestures—how could he have a style, that is originality?
    Rémy De Gourmont (1858–1915)

    I concluded that I was skilled, however poorly, at only one thing: marriage. And so I set about the business of selling myself and two children to some unsuspecting man who might think me a desirable second-hand mate, a man of good means and disposition willing to support another man’s children in some semblance of the style to which they were accustomed. My heart was not in the chase, but I was tired and there was no alternative. I could not afford freedom.
    Barbara Howar (b. 1934)