R.U.R. (Rossum's Universal Robots)
RUR [ Intro & Summary | Image Archive | Review ]
R.U.R. was written in 1920, premiered in Prague early in 1921, was performed in New York in 1922, and published in English translation in 1923. The following year, G. B. Shaw and G. K. Chesterton were among those in London participating in a public discussion of the play. Capek responded, via The Saturday Review, to what he felt was the excessive thematic attention they and other critics paid to one of his devices: "For myself, I confess that as the author I was much more interested in men than in Robots." [1]
Virtually every encyclopedia or textbook etymology of the word "robot" mentions the play R.U.R. Although the immediate worldwide success of the play immediately popularized the word (supplanting the earlier "automaton"), it was actually not Karel Capek but his brother Josef, also a respected Czech writer, who coined the word. The Czech word robota means "drudgery" or "servitude"; a robotnik is a peasant or serf. Although the term today conjures up images of clanking metal contraptions, Capek's Robots (always capitalized) are more accurately the product of what we would now call genetic engineering. The play describes "kneading troughs" and "vats" for processing a chemical substitute for protoplasm, and a "stamping mill" for forming Robot bodies. A more imaginative and scientifically plausible description of the artificial creation of armies of workers would have to wait for Aldous Huxley's Brave New World (1932). [2]
The translator (Paul Selver) changed the play quite a bit while preparing the English version, combining two Robot characters into one, and considerably toning down the ending. If you're interested in reading the play as it was originally presented to American audiences, read the 1920s version (most university libraries will have a copy -- it was tremendously popular in its day).
In the 1990s, a new translation, with much better dialogue and a chilling new final speech (new to English audiences, anyway) by the Robot Damon, was published in a Capek reader called Toward the Radical Center (with a short introduction by Arthur Miller).
Plot Summary (spoilers)
Mass-produced by Robot-run assembly lines, Robots remember everything, and think of nothing new. According to Domin, "They'd make fine university professors." Rejecting Helena's theory that Robots have souls, the psychologist Hallemeier admits that once in a while, a Robot will throw down his work and start gnashing his teeth. The human managers treat such an event as evidence of a product defect, but Helena prefers to interpret it as a sign of the emerging soul.
Domin rather inexplicably asks Helena to marry him. She accepts, but continues working to help the Robots by requesting that a scientist modify some Robots, so that their souls might develop more fully. One of the modified creatures is a Robotess, beautiful but useless. The scientist speculates that if the Robotess (named after her spiritual mother Helena) were to "wake up," she would hate him for making her so beautiful, yet giving her a body that cannot know love or give birth. The human Helena begins identifying with hothouse flowers -- sterile because they are artificially cultivated, satisfying a consumer demand that nature fulfills too slowly on her own. Meanwhile, human fertility has been dropping worldwide; industrial civilization's drive towards order and mechanization has made mankind superfluous.
This dream, spoken by Damon (a demon?) echoes the dream of Domin (Dominus, the Lord?) -- both hope to use machinery to improve upon the work of nature. Without the all-important manuscript, however, the Robots discover "The only thing we cannot produce is Robots. The machines are turning out nothing but bloody chunks of meat." [3] They cajole, threaten and beg Alquist to help them discover what they call "the secret of life." In desperation, Damon offers himself up for study; screaming on the dissection table, he orders Alquist to continue the search.
Nature eventually re-emerges triumphant when two Robots (the beautiful but otherwise useless Helena, and Primus) fall in love. The play ends on an uplifting, religious note. Alquist blesses the lovers, renames them Adam and Eve, and sends them out to avoid the sins that destroyed their predecessors.
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