focused on the liberal bourgeoisie of the 1860’s. The central character, Dumitrache Titircǎ, is a carpenter, a man of property. A shrewd merchant, Titircǎ does not express his thoughts in public: “Well, as far as I can say, a businessman cannot wash his linen in public like a low life,” he declares. As far as he is concerned, if one is not a man of property, one is nothing, only a “paper pusher.” Only the masters of journalese impress him. He never ceases to be fascinated by the power of a jargon he cannot comprehend. One of the sources of the play’s conflict, Titircǎ’s jealousy, springs from his pride of ownership. He is vulgar and massive, but he acts with a certain gentleness toward his wife. Moreover, he never spells out his doubts to her. Even in his most doubting moments when he suspects that “his pride is gone,” he protects Veta from the brutality of words. He extends the same type of courtesy to his wife’s sister, Zia, the cause of the play’s major misunderstandings.

Although Titircǎ has reached a certain position in society, he still has far to go. Right behind him, Chiriac, his handyman, follows closely: He shares Titircǎ’s reverence for the newspaper The Past and the Future, saves money for his own business, makes love to Titircǎ’s wife, and is a sergeant in the national guard in which Titircǎ is a captain. Another character is Ricǎ Venturiano, a caricature of the aspiring poet: tall hat and glasses. An assistant clerk at the archives, a perennial law student, a beginning journalist, and a bad poet, Venturiano is a complete mediocrity. Nevertheless, he makes an impression on Veta’s divorced sister, Zia, an “emancipated” young woman who is in love with the symbolism of romance and has learned to suffer.

Mr. Leonida and the Reactionaries

Mr. Leonida and the Reactionaries is a one-act farce. Leonida, a retired bureaucrat, is a master at impressing his wife with his “ability” to interpret the news in the paper. After a heavy dinner, having spent too many hours reading the local paper, Leonida goes to bed but is soon awakened by the sound of repeated powerful explosions. Both he and his wife are convinced that the “reaction” is in the process of changing the government through a violent coup. Only in the morning, when the maid arrives with the milk, does Leonida discover that what he had taken for political violence had only been his neighbors celebrating a birthday and exploding firecrackers.

The Lost Letter

The plot in The Lost Letter, Caragiale’s best-known play, is also very simple: Representatives of two opposing political camps are at odds with each other, fight each other, then are reconciled and live in peace through a compromise. Reminding one of Titircǎ and Chiriac, the two powerful male characters in The Lost Letter, Tipǎtescu, the commissioner of police, and Trahanache, the banker, are united through legal and illicit business interests. They also share the same political party and make love to the same woman, Trahanache’s wife, Zoe. Like his friend Tipǎtescu, Trahanache identifies closely with his equals and looks down on those who have not yet made it to the top. When Caavencu, the head of the opposition party, finds a love letter from Zoe to Tipǎtescu, he begins a campaign of blackmail and intimidation, requesting to be nominated commissioner in Tipǎtescu’s place. Unfortunately for him, however, Caavencu also loses the letter, and a candidate “from the center,” Mr. Agamiǎ Dandanache, is chosen: The characters are only slightly surprised to hear that Dandanache himself had obtained his candidacy by using a certain “important” citizen’s letter to another important citizen’s wife. Found by the only honest person present at the elections, the Tipsy Citizen, Zoe’s letter is finally returned to her, and with it normality returns.

Trahanache counteracts Tipǎtescu’s arrogance with a sugarcoated benevolence behind which lies the shrewdness of an experienced politician. Apparently trusting, even indulgent regarding his wife’s affair with Tipǎtescu, he seems to care more for his alliance with the latter than for his wife. Hence, he is the first to suggest that the letter is forged. A master of manipulation, Trahanache placates Caavencu by using his own method: He blackmails him in turn.

Between the two, Zoe maintains a certain balance and at least the appearance of dignity. Through husband and lover, she literally owns the county; therefore, she wields much power. She is then entitled to offer Caavencu the candidacy by guaranteeing him her vote and that of her husband. She can even afford to be merciful in the end when Caavencu has lost. She knows the ropes, so she reminds him that this is not the last election in town. She also understandingly allows the petty arrangements of her lover’s deputy: She knows that he has a large family; therefore, he is expected to steal or receive kickbacks.

Unlike all the other characters in the play, Caavencu is not associated with any specific mannerism. The reason is evident: Had he been thus characterized, Caavencu would have been less of a plastic man, flexible and ready to adapt to any situation. He can always protect himself through the use of bombast. Like a cat, Caavencu always lands on his feet.

It is interesting to note that Caragiale intended to write a play that portrayed some of the characters of the preceding plays with the changes that might have occurred to them during a period of twenty-five years. All characters would have ascended the social scale: Titircǎ would now be a senator; Caavencu, a secretary; Ionescu and Popescu, inspectors in the area of Romanian history. Titircǎ would no longer attend garden shows but rather would be invited to garden parties. Veta and Zia would become Tante Liza and Tante Zoe. Dumitrache would have made a fortune in oil, and his wife would now address him as “mon cher.” The ladies would speak only French, but take English lessons. They would be at home on Thursday afternoons and reserve the Romanian language only for the servants.

Caragiale considered the ending of The Lost Letter to be a good example of surprise denouement. The last in a long line of blackmailers, Dandanache is also the most abject. He obtains his desired candidacy through the use of the letter and, were he not to lose it, would use it over and over again as insurance against bad times. As for Ionescu and Popescu, two shadowy characters always in attendance on Caavencu, they represent the faithful supporters, the blind allies without whom Caavencu’s successes would have been impossible.

A major source of humor in The Lost Letter is the lack of genuine commitment exhibited by all the characters. They are all survivors and masters of expedience. Thus, the politicians want the citizens to have their freedom, yet, if the citizens do not vote, they go to prison. At one moment, the representatives of the two parties insult each other and are ready to exchange blows; a moment later they are kissing and fraternizing. In fact, the ending of the play represents the quintessence of compromise: Caavencu’s courage regained, he prompts everyone to be happy and to celebrate the “honest” fights that have taken place during the elections, to celebrate “the progress” brought by these changes. Candidates, winners, losers, all embrace and join the triumphant parade that ends the play.

Carnival Scenes

Although, in Carnival Scenes, Caragiale returns to the sordid world of the lower middle class, a class that slavishly imitates the manners and mores of the upper class, the play maintains the same sense of relativity. No one holds real principles. Everything is for sale or, at least, can be negotiated. Once again, anything that could threaten the status quo, compromise the equilibrium through which a hairdresser, Nae Girimea, has succeeded in keeping his two mistresses satisfied and, literally, out of each other’s hair, is fought tooth and nail by Nae and his trusted apprentice, Jordache. The petty world in which Mia and Didina, the two principal female characters, succeed in misleading the older, wealthy men who support them, is placed under a microscope. Here, however, Caragiale’s satire does not even reach the scope and complexity which he achieved in A Stormy Night.

Nǎpasta

Seeking a source of inspiration that would allow him to present more complex individuals, in Nǎpasta, Caragiale turned to the world of the countryside. Under the evident inspiration of the great Russian realists, Caragiale portrays the struggle of a simple peasant woman, Anca, to avenge the murder of her beloved husband. To attain her goal, Anca marries Dragomir, the killer, and she waits for the right moment for revenge. Often criticized for its lack of originality, Nǎpasta can offer a glimpse into Caragiale’s tragic side, one that later became quite evident in short stories such as “The Easter Torch.”

Caragiale spent the rest of his days writing short stories, sketches, and other short fiction. In them, he continued to create an unforgettable gallery of types, portraits of individuals who must have populated his world. He continued to characterize his personages in the same manner as he had done in his drama: He focused with intensity on each character’s linguistic mannerisms or outstanding physical characteristics, seeking the telling detail. At the same time, however, his plays became increasingly popular and have long since become part of every Romanian citizen’s national heritage.