Chapter 56: The Decline of Military Preparedness

"Why are there so many people!?" Lu Shi exclaimed as he handed the fare to the coachman. He and Natsume Sōseki then jumped out of the carriage.

The crowd ahead was like a quagmire, moving forward but at an agonizingly slow pace, resembling a mass of gum stuck to the ground from a bird's-eye view.

Lu Shi shouted, "Make way!" as he squeezed through the throng, stepping on the toes of several shoes in the process.

The British gentlemen and ladies around him, seeing that Lu Shi and Natsume were East Asians, muttered words like "rude" and "barbaric."

Lu Shi ignored the remarks. After much effort, he and Natsume finally reached the theater's entrance.

The doorman recognized them immediately, "Mr. Lu and Mr. Natsume, please come in!"

Amid the gazes of the crowd outside, Lu Shi and Natsume slipped into the Lyceum Theatre.

The interior was completely transformed from their last visit. Gas lamps lit the corridors, illuminating the large portraits on the walls. Images of Henry Irving, Coquelin, Salvini, and Stanislavsky were vividly displayed.

They walked further towards the main entrance to the theater's interior. Lu Shi pushed the door open.

The stage was bustling with last-minute preparations, with stagehands working tirelessly. Natsume patted Lu Shi on the shoulder, "There he is!"

Following his gaze, Lu Shi saw George Bernard Shaw, smoking a pipe and conversing with a lady who must have been Ellen Terry.

Lu Shi clicked his tongue in disapproval, "Tsk... shameless old man."

He approached quickly. Shaw turned at the sound of footsteps, "Lu, you're here?"

Lu Shi greeted Terry before Shaw could introduce her, then asked in a low voice, "Mr. Shaw, what's going on outside? Judging by the crowd, there must be over fifteen hundred people today."

Terry smiled, "Mr. Lu, do you have a misunderstanding about the Lyceum Theatre?"

Lu Shi was taken aback, "Misunderstanding?"

Terry's smile widened, "Since Sir Irving took over as manager, almost every performance has been sold out. Scalpers sell tickets at inflated prices outside, and there's still more demand than supply."

She pointed to a man, "You must know Charles Laughton by now. Despite his appearance, Sir Irving has praised him highly, calling him 'the greatest young actor ever.'"

Terry implied that the theater's actors were so popular that many outside were hoping to buy tickets from scalpers.

Shaw added, "The Lyceum Theatre isn't just about Charles and Henry; it also has you, my beautiful Ellen."

Terry covered her mouth with a laugh, "Shaw, you flatter me."

Their flirtatious exchange was almost palpable, making Lu Shi avert his eyes in discomfort.

After a while, Shaw said, "And today, we're presenting a new play..."

Before he could finish, the theater doors burst open, and a cacophony of voices filled the air.

People flooded in, some women even breaking their heels in the rush.

In 1900, seating outside the boxes wasn't assigned by individual numbers but by sections, so people arrived early to secure the best seats within their chosen area. Naturally, better viewing areas commanded higher prices.

Shaw nodded to Terry, "You should go now."

Terry gracefully curtsied to Lu Shi and Shaw before heading backstage. In "Yes, Prime Minister," she was to play Dorothy Wainwright, a female advisor to Jim Hacker.

Shaw led Lu Shi and Natsume to the second floor, "Let's continue our conversation."

Lu Shi said, "You mentioned that the new play and the reputation of the Lyceum Theatre and Sir Irving have piqued everyone's curiosity."

Shaw shook his head, "It's more than that. Think carefully, what is the title of your play?"

Lu Shi paused, then understood. The titles of plays in 1900 were usually mundane, like "Mrs. Warren's Profession," "The Picture of Dorian Gray," or "Lady Windermere's Fan"—titles that were somewhat vague.

But "Yes, Prime Minister" was direct and attention-grabbing, highlighting the role of the Prime Minister, making it stand out, much like the reviews in the Manchester Guardian.

Shaw said, "So, the large audience is to be expected."

By then, they had reached their box. They sat down, and soon, the play began.

As the plot unfolded, actors took the stage one by one.

Charles Laughton played Jim Hacker, Henry Irving played Sir Humphrey Appleby, Innokenti Holman played Bernard Woolley, ...

In the original play, Jim first visits the Ministry of Defense, inquiring about nuclear weapons, which sets the stage for subsequent events. But in 1900, Britain had neither a Ministry of Defense nor nuclear weapons.

Lu Shi adapted it to revolve around battleships instead.

Soon, the first joke in the script appeared, the same one Lu Shi had shared with Shaw earlier.

Humphrey: Bernard, what do you think is the purpose of the British government's defense policy?

Bernard: To protect Britain, of course.

Humphrey: No, Bernard, the purpose of the defense policy is to make people "believe" the government is protecting Britain.

Bernard: People? Who? The Germans?

Humphrey: Not the Germans! The British! The Germans know Britain isn't protected.

The joke initially met with an eerie silence, then erupted in uproarious laughter throughout the theater.

At the time, the British Empire was undeniably the strongest in the world, with unmatched military power, so the notion of Britain being unprotected seemed absurd.

Yet liberal media continuously published headlines like:

"Bloodshed! The Battle of Talana Hill, British forces decimated, 465 casualties!" "A blight on international reputation, Britain isolates, while the Dutch, Belgians, Germans, French, Americans, and more stand with the Boers." "Are howitzers meant as gifts? Losing 10 cannons at the Battle of Ladysmith is disgraceful." ...

When a lie is repeated a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand times, people start to believe it. And these weren't lies but facts—partial facts or fragments of the truth.

Consequently, Londoners began to forget that their comfortable lives were built on the exploitation of less developed countries, yearning instead to evolve from marauding barbarians into civilized, reasonable people.

This perception provided fertile ground for satire.

Lu Shi cleverly used battleships as the focal point—symbolizing the "big gun battleship" ideology that originated in the age of sail, began transforming in 1860, and saw a revival from 1890 onwards. Yet, between 1870 and 1890, battleships had fallen out of use, and by 1900, they had only been back in service for a decade, leaving the public's view of them as colossal wastes of taxpayer money.

This view would not change until World War I.

The audience's laughter seemed to shake the roof, forcing the actors to pause until the noise subsided before continuing with their lines.

Shaw's face lit up with excitement, "Lu, we've... no, you've done it! You've succeeded!"

Lu Shi nodded, watching the audience laugh uncontrollably at the battleship joke, silently reflecting.

The decline of military preparedness...

The decline of military preparedness indeed...