It's within this distinction that the split between Morrissey and Osborne lays. No one could fault Morrissey for following the path laid by Look Back in Anger if he were to give in to such anger. Clearly the incurably anti-social, emotionally bare Jimmy Porter, certain that all his weaknesses would be redeemed by love, holds a lot of potential inspiration for Morrissey. But Morrissey always yearned for something more, always reached beyond himself. While Osborne always described the ills of the world as the cause of his own pain and horror, Morrissey tended to recognize his own horror and pain as a fragment of what the world endures. While Osborne saw the silent masses as a subjugated crowd in need of a shock, Morrissey saw instead the reflection of his own distress, and looked for ways to ease this burden. While Osborne sought to "get others to see and feel as he does" (The New York Times), Morrissey sympathized with what others were seeing and feeling. And since his own suffering could only illuminate a fraction of humanity, Morrissey took up the stories of similarly voiceless individuals.
This is where his invocation of Delaney is most vital. For both her peers and her critics, A Taste of Honey seemed such a miraculous debut. Everyone's so dumbfounded that this teenage girl could be the bearer of such an honest, refreshing story. But what's truly dumbfounding is that there aren't hundreds and thousands of teenage girls staging such stories. What's truly dumbfounding is that half the world's population isn't fed up with the repetitive narratives cataloging the various disappointments, confrontations, and achievements of men.
It's easy to imagine the 18-year-old Shelagh watching Rattigan's drama, rolling her eyes at the angst and adversity of his male hero, and muttering to herself that he doesn't know what adversity is. And Jo's burden-pregnant, cut off, insignificant, without prospects-so quickly diminishes Rattigan's moaning. But Delaney isn't comparing scars with Rattigan or even Osborne, her triumph has nothing to do with exposing new depths of despair. Rather, A Taste of Honey is victorious because it maps the limitless boundaries of love and dignity, alongside those of suffering and loneliness. The triumph of A Taste of Honey is in this vastness. A 1962 New York Times review noted that the play's "meaning and compassion... is universal despite its seemingly restrictive locale." That is to say, despite the unlikely and inconspicuous cast of A Taste of Honey–a pregnant teenager, a single mother, a black sailor and a gay man–the story is able to reach into any viewer's life.
Delaney's sympathy and the depth of her characters engendered an admirable inclusiveness that stands out even today, and must've felt dazzlingly unique in 1958. This diversity is remarkable enough that the absence of young, straight white men from the narrative never becomes a focal point, but it's a truly radical departure. Before A Taste of Honey, examples of drama free from the dominance of white men were unheard of. The mess of the world, that Morrissey reminds us is "thanks to men", infected the theater as well. Simply telling a story without such characters becomes an act of resistance, whether it's intentional or not. The truly remarkable thing about the absence of the middle class young man from A Taste of Honey is that he's isn't excluded out of bitterness or ire, but because he simply isn't necessary in the story.
A Taste of Honey remains relevant because it's a story of inclusion, of characters that linger unseen, even today. All of Morrissey's mimicry, all of his plagiarism, reveals a desire to continue this project of inclusion. Morrissey, with all of his empathy, found a perfect model for bringing light to unseen characters in Shelagh Delaney, and that's why he chose Delaney over Osborne. While Osborne's heart is a better match for Morrissey's, the singer declares his own aspirations by choosing to pursue Delaney instead. It's a brave bit of longing, this decision to reach for something new, rather than feel sated at the sight of his own reflection. It's by virtue of this reflection in Osborne's that Morrissey never needed to reference Look Back In Anger, because ultimately, it's not a story he needs someone else to tell. He already knows it by heart.