WEEP NO MORE

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 21, 16 April 1927, Page 20 (Supplement)

WEEP NO MORE

The tear used to be in good standing historically, but now it is scarcely even recognised hysterically. The so-called manly tear used to be quite the approved thing in the best circles, but in the twentieth century the boo-hoo is taboo-hoo. And the teardrop is de trop. Oliver Cromwell wept for eight hours before signing the death warrant of Charles I. Considering that it was Charles’s head, and not Oliver’s, which was to come off, this long cry seems a little out of proportion. Imagine anyone weeping for eight hours in these days over such a minor tragedy, for instance, as signing a lease. And yet it ought to be easier to behead one's enemy than to decapitate one’s income.

On the stage the tear is making its last stand. It is just as apt to be a sign of onions as of innocence. What little punch it has is being wiped out by the movies, where tears are so overgrown that they resemble travelling peas. Tears have lost their power to sway empires and ruin kings; the best they can do is to sway movie fans and ruin complexions. They no longer melt any icy looks or cut any ice. Of course, there are still women in the world who think they feel better after a good cry, but it doesn’t get them anywhere—unless they ar.e experts. A winning smile always wins, but there is no reward for crying out loud.