Pygmalion: The Eternal Quest

The story of the mythical sculptor Pygmalion has a hoary past. It has fascinated and inspired generations of sculptors, painters, poets, writers, film makers and TV producers - from the days of ancient Greeks and Romans to our very own contemporary Hollywood. The legend has migrated from Cyprus, to Greece to Ovid, the great Italian love poet. If Pygmalion is a part of the western psyche, we owe it more to Ovid, than to any other source. Further, George Bernard Shaw's play, 'Pygmalion' and its stage and movie version, 'My Fair Lady', made it very much a part of our mass culture.

While from land to land and from one age to another, the legend underwent metamorphosis (sometimes beyond recognition), for our purpose let's stick to this one: The sculptor Pygmalion was a misogynist - a woman hater! For some reason, which I have not been able to fathom, he nevertheless made a sculpture of a woman. It was so beautiful, that he fell in love with it! Highly frustrated, he prayed to Venus to bring his sculpture to life. Venus took pity on this hapless chap and lo and behold, the cold ivory statue came to life!

In his adaptation of Pygmalion, George Bernard Shaw has transformed the protagonist into an equally misogynist, Professor Henry Higgins, a phonetics professor. On a bet with his friend, he decides to refine a raw Cockney, Eliza Doolittle into a noble lady with impeccable accent. He does succeed remarkably, with the transformed lady being embellished with all the mannerisms of the uppity! A fact, which the learned professor himself could not swallow! The evergreen musical stage and screen adaptation of Shaw's, 'My Fair Lady' has become a most remembered and hummed classic of all times. I for one would have "Danced All Night'!

But my own encounter with Pygmalion and George Bernard Shaw does not stop here. When studying Physics at Allahabad University, India, I was a member of our theater group. Once, after numerous rehearsals, we decided to stage Shaw's Pygmalion. Apart from the applause from the audience, the weekend review of the local newspaper paid a glowing tribute to our efforts. That I was also the movie and theater critic of that paper, helped! Excitedly, I wrote a letter to George Bernard Shaw about our arduous efforts to stage his play, Pygmalion. I also enclosed a clipping of the play's review. Not knowing his address, I just wrote the following on the envelope:
Mr. George Bernard Shaw
Writer and Nobel Laureate
London, United Kingdom

Two months later a cover arrived from U.K. It was with great joy and anticipation, that I opened the cover. But that joy was short lived. The letter carried the following terse lines:
"Mr. Saksena,
Please remit my royalty of Pounds 5.00
George Bernard Shaw."

My disappointment and anger knew no bounds. Had Mr. Shaw paid any royalties to Ovid?