This edition has Lorca's three most famous plays: Blood Wedding, Yerma, and The House of Bernarda Alba. There is some sense in putting them together, though they are not consecutive. All are relatively later plays, Blood sometimes called his first major work and The House being his last completed play and widely acknowledged masterpiece. Perhaps more importantly, all have similar settings and themes; they are often considered a trilogy dealing with early nineteenth-century rural Spain. The plays focus on central Lorca concerns like desire, repression, ritual, tradition and authority vs. individualism, etc. This gives continuity, as does the tragic link indicated in the title.
The themes are increasingly dramatized through women. This would have been notable anywhere in the 1930s but is even more remarkable in coming from a heavily Catholic country suffering conservative backlash. Mores were stringent, having a profound cultural effect and intensely affecting individuals; transgressors were heavily punished or, as in the case of Lorca himself, even killed. Lorca's sympathy with women's lot is highly notable, and it is hard to deny a strong connection between it and his own tortured existence as a homosexual in a time and place where he could not live openly with impunity. One can legitimately see these works as similar to Henrik Ibsen's famous "problem plays" - dramatizations of contemporary social problems. Lorca bravely calls into question many traditional Spanish and Catholic beliefs, showing their limitations and the tragic effects that sometimes result.
However, there is more to them. Lorca's language has a lyricism and sophistication rarely seen in drama since Ibsen led the switch to prose. He was of course primarily a poet and still mostly known for poetry; we can see a successful melding of drama in the strictest sense with poetry. Some will inevitably say this comes at the expense of other modern drama qualities, primarily realism, and it is certainly true that they are deemphasized. This was of course conscious and essentially a matter of taste. Those who dislike it will almost certainly be averse to Lorca's drama; others may lionize it. I am essentially in-between, unable to see how so many see these works as truly great drama but easily recognizing how far they are above midrange - quite far in the case of The House of Bernarda Alba.
More important in any case are universal themes that move the plays beyond time and place. Lorca's work has an all-powerful earthiness focusing on primitive emotions like lust, rage, and despair, making his work accessible to all even at its most arcane. His local focus is intense, and it is near-impossible to avoid biographical readings with an author so ambiguously legendary, but some of his issues are central to the human condition. Also, though characterization was not his forte, his portrayals were heavily, often intensely dramatic, making it easier to identify with what were quite radical concepts. He was of course an artist - and, indeed, a man - well ahead of his time, as reading these very modern works over seventy years later attests. In this way, at least, his writing is easier to appreciate as time passes.
There are substantial differences between the three plays, including quality. With a near-elementary plot but stunningly poetic language, Blood Wedding is at once the simplest and most complex. The simple tale is as old as literature - probably as old as humanity -, and it is hard for one to care much about it on its own terms. There is indeed a noticeable Greek tragedy influence in presentation - i.e., violence being offstage - as well as plot, though Lorca is as ever strongly rooted in Spanish culture. However, the play has the least conventional presentation, making it intriguing. It is deliberately the least realistic; a near-surreal air pervades, and there is relatively little prose dialogue. More importantly, it is the most symbolic; tropes and figures do not so much accentuate as become essential to the plot. Blood requires close attention to appreciate, making its being first in the collection somewhat unfortunate, as it is not the easiest introduction. Thankfully, the lyrical beauty may pull some readers in, leading them to the stronger and more enjoyable plays.
Yerma has a more original focus, centering on Lorca's time and place with significant universal overtones - the tragedy that results when women are unable to have children in a culture leaving them little else. The play is unsurprisingly a feminist favorite, but anyone with empathy for people in sad situations will see much pathos. Yerma vividly dramatizes the repression of women in early twentieth-century rural Spain, throwing their trials and travails into sharp relief against the general culture. We quickly see how unjust it was, but Lorca knows better than to offer a simple solution, instead showing the tragedy that comes from this very lack. However, reducing the play to didactic status does it something of a disservice, as its empathy for women is sadly not universal. Perhaps more importantly, Yerma is a highly memorable character who earns our sympathy despite carrying her obsession to what can only be called psychosis and committing an unjustifiable act. Dramatically, Yerma is more original than Blood Wedding, shedding the Greek tragedy influence for an intense focus on a single theme and character. Yerma is onstage nearly the whole time and always the focus. Her part is one of modern theater's most difficult; only a tremendous actor could do it convincingly. We can see a definite growth from Blood to Yerma, with Lorca pushing modern theater's boundaries in more than one way.
The House of Bernarda Alba is by far the strongest play - probably the twentieth century's greatest Spanish drama and one of the ten or twenty greatest of the century overall. Lorca unfortunately did not live to complete his next play, but this is in many ways his drama's culmination, the masterwork he had been working for his whole career. He has skillfully pared back poetic imagery to the point where The House strongly resembles most modern prose drama, but it is not a step back. The occasional lyricism is so well-done and appropriate that, if anything, this is the seamless welding he had been working for from the start. He has also pared back elsewhere; the play is a masterpiece of concision in several ways. Just as Yerma followed naturally from Blood Wedding in focusing near-exhaustively on a single female character, here all characters are female. One male is very important to the plot but never appears - a decision that works better than the more obvious route could have. Many women's/feminist issues again inevitably arise, but this has far wider appeal. Issues of family, class, marriage, etc. resonate powerfully across cultures and time, raising Lorca above the "Spanish" category in which it is often so easy to put him. The plot is again nothing revolutionary, but execution is masterful. Various emotions reach almost unbearable peaks throughout, and Lorca's deft hand with timing and suspense is at full throttle. Symbolism has also been pared down, at least as essential to the plot as ever but far more subtle. It is skillfully embedded into the play's very fabric rather than being thrust forward as in Blood, making a work that, like all great works, can be appreciated on several levels.
This brings up the main unavoidable crux in reading Lorca - he is not an easy read. Even those eager to enjoy and/or appreciate him may well have significant difficulty. Matters of taste aside, he uses symbolism so heavily that anyone not paying close attention will miss essential points - even basic plot elements. This and frequent lyrical deployment set him apart from nearly all modern drama; those who do not know what to expect may be taken by inauspicious surprise. These are problems even for those who read Lorca in Spanish, but translation of course compounds them. Since Lorca works his vast knowledge of Spanish culture into his work so thoroughly, those unfamiliar with it will miss much - not only symbolism but even basic plot points. Finally, as one might expect from a writer who was a director and actor as well as writer, Lorca put more emphasis on physical elements than the vast majority of playwrights. These are nearly impossible to reproduce on paper, and he indeed does not even try; stage directions are minimal, and almost no description is given. This was of course not a problem when he was alive, for he could add them himself in production, but readers are now left significantly hanging. There is no solution other than seeing the plays performed, and those who wish only to read him - or are unable to attend a play - must put up with the deficiency. It fortunately is not fatal; there is still much to enjoy and appreciate, even if we are all too aware that we are missing something.
The above comments apply to the plays generally, regardless of translation. Without going into various translations' merits, I must point out that this edition has an introduction by Lorca's brother Francisco. Some other editions have this, and I urge anyone comparing versions to get one with this regardless of the translation. No one should pay the ultra high prices some of these are listed at, but it is more than worth seeking out. Long and fascinating, it spills over with the kind of detail only an intimate could give. Francisco proves a capable writer, giving at least as good a critical introduction as any professional critic could have, but his personal observations are even more valuable. We learn much about Lorca the writer, including many insights a critic could never have, and quite a bit about Lorca the man. The most important point may be that, as Francisco emphasizes again and again, the two roles were essentially inseparable in a manner rarely seen in artists and worked off each other in ways often rather different from what one would expect. The plays give a significant peek into his beliefs and personality and vice versa, letting us appreciate Lorca in a manner that goes some way toward correcting for what we inevitably miss by reading him in translation.
