Etiquette and Vitriol by Nicky Silver (classic fiction .txt) 📗

GRACE: You’re so beautiful.

TODD: I have no symptoms.

GRACE: I’ll cook you something. (She tries, unsuccessfully, to rise)

TODD: Sit down.

GRACE: I got dizzy.

TODD: Lie down.

(She does so.)

GRACE: I’m so sleepy.

TODD: Take a nap.

GRACE: You have to eat. Can’t let you die.

TODD: I think I died a long time ago.

GRACE: What does that mean?

(Todd puts the afghan over her.)

TODD: Take a nap.

GRACE: Some mothers don’t love their children. But you know I do, don’t you?

TODD: Yes.

GRACE: Love me?

TODD: Of course.

GRACE: Talk to me. Maybe I’ll sleep if you talk to me.

TODD: What about?

GRACE: I don’t care. Dinosaurs.

TODD: Two hundred and twenty million years ago the dinosaurs came to be. And they were large. In comparison to man they were. And they lived not in harmony, roaming the earth at will, raping, as it were, the planet. But they cared for their young and they flourished as no creature before or since, for one hundred and fifty million years before dying out completely. And no one knows why. Why they lived. Or ceased to. Some people think there was a meteor. Perhaps volcanic ash altered the atmosphere. Some think they over-populated and the shells of their eggs became too thin. Or they just ran their course, and their end was the order of things. And no tragedy. Or disease. Or God.

(He looks at Grace. He covers her face with the afghan. She is dead.)

It’s so dark.

(He exits up the stairs. When he reaches Emma, they embrace. Then they walk together up the stairs. Once they are gone, the lights dim, but for the light on the skeleton, which grows brighter and brighter.)

END OF PLAY

FREE WILL & WANTON LUST

Free Will & Wanton Lust premiered in 1991 at the Sanford Meisner Theater. It was produced by the Vortex Theater Company; it was directed by the author; the set design was by MyKeal Kearny; the lighting design was by Jan Bell; the costume design was by Ruth Parsons; the stage manager was Lizze Fitzgerald. The cast was as follows:

CLAIRE

Stephanie Correa

TONY

Charles Derbyshire

AMY

Debra Riessen

PHILIP

Chuck Coggins

VIVIAN

Deb Snyder

In 1993, the play was produced by the Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company (Howard Shalwitz, Artistic Director, Nancy Turner Hensley, Producing Associate). It was directed by the author. The set design was by James Kronzer; the lighting design was by David Zemmels; the costume design was by Rosemary Ingham; the sound design was by Hugh Caldwell; the stage manager was Scott Hammar. The cast was as follows:

CLAIRE

Kerry Waters

TONY

Christopher Lane

AMY

Audrey Wasilewski

PHILIP

Jason Kravits

VIVIAN

Naomi Jacobson

CHARACTERS

CLAIRE, An attractive, witty,

glamorous woman in her mid-forties.

TONY, An opportunistic Adonis in his early twenties.

AMY, Claire’s daughter, fifteen. A wilted flower, a sad madcap.

PHILIP, Claire’s son, twenty.

A mass of nerves, gaunt and hostile, a drug addict.

VIVIAN, Philip’s fiancée, late twenties.

A creature of pure intellect.

TIME AND PLACE

ACT I

Reckless Abandon

The living room of a Manhattan duplex,

furnished in art-deco style. Late afternoon.

ACT II

Etiquette & Vitriol

Claire’s bedroom. Fifteen minutes before the end of Act I.

AUTHOR’S NOTES

Free Will should be approached as a conflict of theatrical styles. Claire is written as a character from Noël Coward, a character from The Vortex. Philip is depicted in Brechtian terms. Act I belongs to Claire and is intended to be played very slickly. Philip, eventually, takes over Act II. There the tone shifts, becomes more aggressive. The final scene is a battle between these two aesthetics (as well as between characters). These dueling theatrical genres should be reinforced with design elements. The more severe the contrast between Claire’s glamorous and Philip’s proletarian worlds, the better.

ACT I

RECKLESS ABANDON

As the audience enters, “Love Is Good for Anything that Ails You” is playing. The stage is obscured by a chiffon drape. During the song, Amy enters and opens the drape to reveal the set. The room is slick and lavishly designed. There is a curved staircase, leading to nowhere, which diminishes as it spirals. A deco, asymmetrical couch, an ottoman and a bar. The effect of the room is glamour, an elegance one associates with a long-ago era. Amy pours herself a drink, and having downed it, exits. The lights dim out. As the song ends, Claire, wearing an elegant dressing gown, strolls into a pool of light and addresses the audience.

CLAIRE: I have lived, a long time, alone. Always really. I was a girl and I was alone. I was married and I was alone. I had two children, and they are darling, don’t mistake me, but I was still alone. And it’s true. I have taken many lovers to my bed, but I was still, and always, alone. . . . Until now.

(As she continues, the lights come up, revealing the living room. Tony is languishing luxuriating on the sofa, perhaps asleep.)

This morning I went to the dressmaker, where I had a fitting for Melanie Winslow’s party on the eighth, celebrating her first year of sobriety. And there, I ran into my old friend, Phoebe Potter. At first, I didn’t recognize her. My goodness, she’s gotten old. Her skin just hangs from her bones like a weeping willow. Tragic. Phoebe hugged me and we reminisced, briefly, about our days as schoolgirls together. I told her she looked marvelous, which was a lie. She looked ghastly. Her hair is going gray, or she’s finally letting it go gray. She has liver spots on her hands like tweed gloves. And she was being pinned into the most matronly chiffon Herrara. And, truth be told, it made me sad to see her. And a little happy. . . . Then it was my turn. And as I stood there, as I was being pinned, as I looked into the mirror, I was startled. I was honestly surprised. I am getting younger! It’s an absolute fact. Irrefutable. I get younger and younger with every day and