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Ruling Class: A Baroque Comedy
Book by Barnes, Peter
114 pages, Paperback
First published December 1, 1969
1 person is currently reading
193 people want to read
About the author
Peter Barnes
146 books13 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name. This entry is for the English playwright and screenwriter.
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
December 2, 2018
Brilliant. Hilarious. Brutal.
November 13, 2022
Jack's family: Why does Jack think he's God?
Jack's psychiatrist: His Lordship is a member of the English ruling class. He's been taught all his life there's nothing above him.
What else is there to aspire to if your are born into the English ruling class except divinity? Jack, the heir apparent to the Earldom of Gurney, has spent years at an insane asylum cultivating the notion that he is Jesus Christ, until one day his father dies by self-induced erotic asphyxiation (yep, it's as gross as it sounds). Suddenly, his relatives need both an heir to the Earldom and for him to breed another son for the peerage. He's freed against the advise of his psychiatrist, a foreigner of course, and welcomed home to his estate. Jack insists everyone call him "J.C" and relaxes by hanging on a cross. Meanwhile his butler, a dipsomaniac Communist, rants on how "one percent of the people of this country own half the wealth". (Peter Barnes preceded Occupy Wall Street by fifty years!) His relatives plant a trollop inside the estate to seduce Jack and make a male heir, after which J.C. can be dispatched back to the loony bin. But Jack is cleverer and more murderous than most members of the British establishment, and foils their plot by becoming another "Jack", one famous from Victorian times. Naturally, he takes his rightful place in the House of Lords, and gives a maiden speech on restoring the death penalty in Britain. This black comedy by Peter Barnes is hilarious and politically savvy, even prophetic. Best Line? Psychiatrist: His Lordship is a schizophrenic, delusional paranoiac.
Jack's uncle: But he's a Gurney!
Psychiatrist: Then he's a schizophrenic, delusional paranoiac Gurney.
Jack's psychiatrist: His Lordship is a member of the English ruling class. He's been taught all his life there's nothing above him.
What else is there to aspire to if your are born into the English ruling class except divinity? Jack, the heir apparent to the Earldom of Gurney, has spent years at an insane asylum cultivating the notion that he is Jesus Christ, until one day his father dies by self-induced erotic asphyxiation (yep, it's as gross as it sounds). Suddenly, his relatives need both an heir to the Earldom and for him to breed another son for the peerage. He's freed against the advise of his psychiatrist, a foreigner of course, and welcomed home to his estate. Jack insists everyone call him "J.C" and relaxes by hanging on a cross. Meanwhile his butler, a dipsomaniac Communist, rants on how "one percent of the people of this country own half the wealth". (Peter Barnes preceded Occupy Wall Street by fifty years!) His relatives plant a trollop inside the estate to seduce Jack and make a male heir, after which J.C. can be dispatched back to the loony bin. But Jack is cleverer and more murderous than most members of the British establishment, and foils their plot by becoming another "Jack", one famous from Victorian times. Naturally, he takes his rightful place in the House of Lords, and gives a maiden speech on restoring the death penalty in Britain. This black comedy by Peter Barnes is hilarious and politically savvy, even prophetic. Best Line? Psychiatrist: His Lordship is a schizophrenic, delusional paranoiac.
Jack's uncle: But he's a Gurney!
Psychiatrist: Then he's a schizophrenic, delusional paranoiac Gurney.
April 25, 2015
Fun. The play itself and it on stage.
August 19, 2018
Maybe a bit too long and disjointed at the end, but a magnificent play nontheless. Funny and witty, brilliant critique on the upper echelons of British society.
As someone who studied psychology, really like how the thought of everyone conspiring against you is actually true. All for the protection of their bloodline, to lord over the working class and being absolved of their own sins.
Seeing how Jack thought he was God, it itself is a critique on how those from the ruling class sees themselves, above everything - and the whole society is becoming immoral and strict laws needed for the mass while the lords also fornicate and sleep around, even killing without worry because there's always a common folk to be blamed for those crimes.
And it is written as a comedy makes it all better, satire at its best.
As someone who studied psychology, really like how the thought of everyone conspiring against you is actually true. All for the protection of their bloodline, to lord over the working class and being absolved of their own sins.
Seeing how Jack thought he was God, it itself is a critique on how those from the ruling class sees themselves, above everything - and the whole society is becoming immoral and strict laws needed for the mass while the lords also fornicate and sleep around, even killing without worry because there's always a common folk to be blamed for those crimes.
And it is written as a comedy makes it all better, satire at its best.
August 12, 2017
This is the only play that I read without having watching it beforehand. I could only imagine how the stage is and the actors are behaving. The script itself was wicked. Full of twists and you won't be ever sure what'll happen next. The humour is subtle but on point, just at the amount that I like. Inside my head I imagined James Mcavoy as the 14th Earl of Gurney, goddamn what would I give to watch him going cuckoo and schizophrenic.
March 23, 2019
A great satirical play about the British nobility. The 1972 movie starring Peter O'Toole was also great!
Read
August 27, 2021bangs
July 23, 2025
4.5⭐️
That was… a very interesting read indeed.
That was… a very interesting read indeed.
April 22, 2018
Did I pick this play up because James McAvoy was in it a few years ago and is on the cover. To be honest yes, but it also sounded intriguing.
There are aspects of this play that make one wonder how it is was stage in order for certain things to be able to occur, but even seeing it live might now help it make much sense. While reading I found myself finally getting the storyline during act one but once act two began everything started falling apart and didn't make sense, not in the case of bad writing or a terrible story, but in the "wait what?" Way that if you have read a lot of plays you might understand.
There are aspects of this play that make one wonder how it is was stage in order for certain things to be able to occur, but even seeing it live might now help it make much sense. While reading I found myself finally getting the storyline during act one but once act two began everything started falling apart and didn't make sense, not in the case of bad writing or a terrible story, but in the "wait what?" Way that if you have read a lot of plays you might understand.
October 22, 2008
So what was I trying to do in these plays? I
wanted to write a roller-coaster drama of hairpin bends;
a drama of expertise and ecstasy balanced on a tightrope
between the comic and the tragic with a multi-faceted
fly-like vision where every line was dramatic and every
scene a play in itself; a drama with a language so exact
it could describe what the flame of a candle looked like
after the candle had been blown out and so high-powered
it could fuse telephone wires and have a direct impact
on reality; a drama that made the surreal real, that went
to the limit, then further, with no dead time, but with
the speed of a seismograph recording an earthquake; a
drama of 'The Garden of Earthly Delights' where a lion,
a tinman and a Scarecrow are always looking for a girl
with ruby slippers; a drama glorifying differences,
condemning heirarchies, that would rouse the dead to
fight, always in the forefront of the struggle for the
happiness of all mankind; an anti-boss drama for the
shorn not the shearers.
BARNES PLAYS ONE, p. viii
EARL OF GURNEY: My heart rises with the sun. I'm purged
of doubts and negative innuendoes. Today I want to bless
everything! Bless the crawfish that has a scuttling walk,
bless the trout, the pilchard and periwinkle. Bless Ted
Smoothey of 22 East Hackney Road--with a name like that
he needs blessing. Bless the mealy-redpole, the black-gloved
wallaby and W.C. Fields who is dead but lives on. Bless
the skunk, bless the red-bellied lemur, bless 'Judo' Al
Hayes and Ski-Hi Lee. Bless the snotty-nosed giraffe, bless
the buffalo, bless the Society of Women Engineers, bless
the wild yak, bless the Picadilly Match King, bless the
pygmy hippo, bless the weasel, bless the mighty cockroach,
bless me. Today's my wedding day!
THE RULING CLASS, p. 51
Now, dressed in three-cornered hat, ballet skirt, long
underwear and sword, the 13th Earl of Gurney curtseys
and moves toward the steps, trembling slightly in
anticipation.
13TH EARL OF GURNEY: Close. I can feel her hot breath.
Wonderful. One slip. The worms have the best of it. They
dine off the tenderest joints. Juicy breasts, white thighs,
red hair colour of rust. . . the worms have the best of it.
(He climbs up the steps, stands under the noose and comes
to attention.) It is a far, far better thing I do now,
than I have ever done. (He slips the noose over his head,
trembling.) No, Sir. No bandage. Die my dear doctor? That is
the last thing I shall do. Is that you, my love? Now, come
darling. . . to me. . . ha!
(Stepping off the top of the steps, he dangles for a few
seconds and begins to twitch and jump. He puts his feet
back on the top of the steps. Gasping, he loosens the
noose.)
13TH EARL: Touched him, saw her, towers of death and
silence, angels of fire and ice. Saw Alexander covered
with honey and beeswax in his tomb and felt the flowers
growing over me. A man must have his visions. How else
could an English judge and peer of the realm take
moonlight trips to Marrakesh and Ponder's End? See six
vestal virgins smoking cigars? Moses in bedroom slippers?
Naked bosoms floating past Formosa? Desperate diseases
need desperate remedies. (Glancing towards the door.)
Just time for a quick one. (Places noose over his head.)
Be of good cheer, Master Ridley, and play the man. There's
plenty of time to win this game and thrash the Spaniards
too! (Draws his sword.) Form squares men! Smash the Mahdi,
and Binnie Barnes!
(With a lustful gurgle he steps off. But this time he
knocks over the steps. Dangling helpless for a brief
second he drops the sword and tries to tear the noose
free, gesturing frantically.)
THE RULING CLASS, pp. 6-7
Barnes very often concerns himself with death, as you'd expect
any self-respecting comic visionary to do. The 13th Earl's death is
easier than that of the 14th Earl, who has what's best in him killed by
a doctor and a social order concerned for his sanity, because what's
best in him is bound up inextricably with delusions of a world ruled by
gentleness and love. He lives on with the stink of his own death in his
nostrils, continuous and inescapable, a stink which he concludes,
uncharitably but in the circumstances not unreasonably, is not merely
personal but universal, and sets in to work making it personal and
literal for the circle of family and friends who've participated in his
killing cure. (He has not of course become sane. He believed he was God
in the first act; he believes the same in the second; but the cruelty
of the world as he finds it has persuaded him he was wrong in believing
himself a God of love; he trades the Shepherd's staff for the flick-
knife of Jack the Ripper.)
wanted to write a roller-coaster drama of hairpin bends;
a drama of expertise and ecstasy balanced on a tightrope
between the comic and the tragic with a multi-faceted
fly-like vision where every line was dramatic and every
scene a play in itself; a drama with a language so exact
it could describe what the flame of a candle looked like
after the candle had been blown out and so high-powered
it could fuse telephone wires and have a direct impact
on reality; a drama that made the surreal real, that went
to the limit, then further, with no dead time, but with
the speed of a seismograph recording an earthquake; a
drama of 'The Garden of Earthly Delights' where a lion,
a tinman and a Scarecrow are always looking for a girl
with ruby slippers; a drama glorifying differences,
condemning heirarchies, that would rouse the dead to
fight, always in the forefront of the struggle for the
happiness of all mankind; an anti-boss drama for the
shorn not the shearers.
BARNES PLAYS ONE, p. viii
EARL OF GURNEY: My heart rises with the sun. I'm purged
of doubts and negative innuendoes. Today I want to bless
everything! Bless the crawfish that has a scuttling walk,
bless the trout, the pilchard and periwinkle. Bless Ted
Smoothey of 22 East Hackney Road--with a name like that
he needs blessing. Bless the mealy-redpole, the black-gloved
wallaby and W.C. Fields who is dead but lives on. Bless
the skunk, bless the red-bellied lemur, bless 'Judo' Al
Hayes and Ski-Hi Lee. Bless the snotty-nosed giraffe, bless
the buffalo, bless the Society of Women Engineers, bless
the wild yak, bless the Picadilly Match King, bless the
pygmy hippo, bless the weasel, bless the mighty cockroach,
bless me. Today's my wedding day!
THE RULING CLASS, p. 51
Now, dressed in three-cornered hat, ballet skirt, long
underwear and sword, the 13th Earl of Gurney curtseys
and moves toward the steps, trembling slightly in
anticipation.
13TH EARL OF GURNEY: Close. I can feel her hot breath.
Wonderful. One slip. The worms have the best of it. They
dine off the tenderest joints. Juicy breasts, white thighs,
red hair colour of rust. . . the worms have the best of it.
(He climbs up the steps, stands under the noose and comes
to attention.) It is a far, far better thing I do now,
than I have ever done. (He slips the noose over his head,
trembling.) No, Sir. No bandage. Die my dear doctor? That is
the last thing I shall do. Is that you, my love? Now, come
darling. . . to me. . . ha!
(Stepping off the top of the steps, he dangles for a few
seconds and begins to twitch and jump. He puts his feet
back on the top of the steps. Gasping, he loosens the
noose.)
13TH EARL: Touched him, saw her, towers of death and
silence, angels of fire and ice. Saw Alexander covered
with honey and beeswax in his tomb and felt the flowers
growing over me. A man must have his visions. How else
could an English judge and peer of the realm take
moonlight trips to Marrakesh and Ponder's End? See six
vestal virgins smoking cigars? Moses in bedroom slippers?
Naked bosoms floating past Formosa? Desperate diseases
need desperate remedies. (Glancing towards the door.)
Just time for a quick one. (Places noose over his head.)
Be of good cheer, Master Ridley, and play the man. There's
plenty of time to win this game and thrash the Spaniards
too! (Draws his sword.) Form squares men! Smash the Mahdi,
and Binnie Barnes!
(With a lustful gurgle he steps off. But this time he
knocks over the steps. Dangling helpless for a brief
second he drops the sword and tries to tear the noose
free, gesturing frantically.)
THE RULING CLASS, pp. 6-7
Barnes very often concerns himself with death, as you'd expect
any self-respecting comic visionary to do. The 13th Earl's death is
easier than that of the 14th Earl, who has what's best in him killed by
a doctor and a social order concerned for his sanity, because what's
best in him is bound up inextricably with delusions of a world ruled by
gentleness and love. He lives on with the stink of his own death in his
nostrils, continuous and inescapable, a stink which he concludes,
uncharitably but in the circumstances not unreasonably, is not merely
personal but universal, and sets in to work making it personal and
literal for the circle of family and friends who've participated in his
killing cure. (He has not of course become sane. He believed he was God
in the first act; he believes the same in the second; but the cruelty
of the world as he finds it has persuaded him he was wrong in believing
himself a God of love; he trades the Shepherd's staff for the flick-
knife of Jack the Ripper.)
February 13, 2015
The Ruling Class starts off hilarious and then gradually gets more sinister. At first I thought it was having a pop at free love hippies and the hypocritical adulterous upper classes that sneer at them, but then it gets more tortured and the ‘old school ties’ start to constrict the main character's ‘love’ message (like the noose at the beginning) leaving behind an hardened, nasty shell.
There’s an amazing symmetry to the first and second half, though this could be Jamie Lloyd’s production at Trafalgar Studios; I loved the 'gibberish' and the ‘shvroom’ of the first half, but also the clever darkness of the second half. Some newspaper reviews say it’s not relevant whereas from my experience it is very relevant, for anyone ‘different’ most places are a closed shop unless your face fits and more often than not that face went to public school or Oxbridge and is part of the upper classes, irrespective of the personality of the actual man which in The Ruling Class becomes more and more violently disturbed. Anyway I shall be looking out for more Peter Barnes. Saw this accidently after reading Decline and Fall, a more light hearted look at the exploits of the upper classes.
There’s an amazing symmetry to the first and second half, though this could be Jamie Lloyd’s production at Trafalgar Studios; I loved the 'gibberish' and the ‘shvroom’ of the first half, but also the clever darkness of the second half. Some newspaper reviews say it’s not relevant whereas from my experience it is very relevant, for anyone ‘different’ most places are a closed shop unless your face fits and more often than not that face went to public school or Oxbridge and is part of the upper classes, irrespective of the personality of the actual man which in The Ruling Class becomes more and more violently disturbed. Anyway I shall be looking out for more Peter Barnes. Saw this accidently after reading Decline and Fall, a more light hearted look at the exploits of the upper classes.
November 11, 2015
MEHHH.
It's clever in some parts but then it takes a really weird turn that I didn't understand. Mehhh.
It's clever in some parts but then it takes a really weird turn that I didn't understand. Mehhh.
July 3, 2016
Enticing, exciting, entertaining. Brilliant.
Read
July 2, 2017Read-through aloud at a friend's; our Peter O'Toole substitute did very well, but do avoid the introduction which serves only to make the playwright come across as a whiny sulk. Politically, the angle isn't that far off the sort of outdated sledgehammer satire one gets from modern Pat Mills, but Barnes' jokes are so much better.
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews