Where There is Nothing Being Volume I of Plays for an Irish Theatre — Edition Insights

Tinkers, Monks, and the Unsettled Life

The excerpts show Paul Ruttledge moving from a world of property—his brother Thomas's house, a pub where he gives away free drinks—to the company of tinkers. Charlie Ward, Paddy Cockfight, Tommy the Song, and Sabina Silver speak in a dialect marked by phrases like 'heartscald' and 'it's no way to have him lying out under guano bags.' Their speech is earthy and direct, contrasting with Paul's more abstract provocations. When Paul quotes the Sermon on the Mount to justify his 'free drinks,' he frames his rebellion as a return to Christian origins, not a rejection of religion. The tinkers, however, are practical: they worry about the law after a fight in Gortmore and debate whether Paul can survive on the road. Yeats does not romanticize their poverty—'the rain coming down on him like it did last night'—but gives them a vivid, collective voice.

Biblical Echoes and the Sermon on the Mount

Paul Ruttledge's rhetoric repeatedly invokes Christ. He tells his brother that 'there is a more dreadful fermentation in the Sermon on the Mount than in my beer-barrels,' and later offers to 'find rags for you all' and 'run naked for awhile.' These lines echo the Gospels' calls to abandon possessions, but Yeats grounds them in a specific dramatic situation: a man who has already given away his wealth and is now urging others to do the same. The play does not present Paul as a straightforward saint; his final accusation against Thomas—'You have begotten fools'—is bitter and personal. The excerpts do not reveal whether Paul's journey leads to redemption or ruin, only that his path is marked by physical pain ('I've hit my ribs against the earth') and a refusal to compromise.

Song, Story, and the Structure of the Play

Tommy the Song's performance of 'Down by the sally garden' is the only complete lyric in the excerpts, but it signals the importance of traditional verse within the drama. Yeats, in his dedication, describes gathering 'stories and traditional beliefs' with Lady Gregory, and the play's dialogue often feels like transcribed speech—repetitive, interruptive, and rhythmic. The stage directions are minimal: 'Great door in the middle of the stage under a stone cross' is the most detailed set description. This spareness throws emphasis onto the characters' voices. The play is divided into five acts, but the excerpts suggest a loose, episodic structure: a pub scene, a departure, a roadside collapse. Readers should expect a work that prioritizes verbal texture over plot mechanics.

Where There is Nothing resists easy categorization. It is neither a straightforward folk drama nor a symbolic poem, but a hybrid that uses Irish dialect and biblical allusion to stage a crisis of belief. Pay attention to who speaks in verse and who in prose, and to the way songs interrupt argument. The play's title may promise negation, but the excerpts are full of voices insisting on their own existence.

Paul’s wandering in Where There Is Nothing stayed with me—that ache for something freer than the life you’re handed. It reminded me of reading Getting Married — Reading Notes afterward, how both quietly circle the same question: what we owe others versus what we owe ourselves. I kept thinking about that long after closing either page.