"You went to a very intellectual, highly articulate place with losing the human element of character. Would encourage the writer to focus on the dramatic incident."
Yeah you don't tell Beckett to develop the dramatic incident in Waiting for Godot. Could my lack of dramatic incident have an artistic license to it? Perhaps I am trying to highlight my inner cynicism and the utter banality of the human condition of which we are all a part of? Beckett was a genius. Clearly no one appreciates the masters of Absurdist theatre as much as one should. Beckett, Ionesco. My heroes. Supporting the avant-garde!
Enough waffling, here it is for all to enjoy.
THE BIRTH OF A CYNIC
A theatrical exploration of why one chooses to write.
JULY, 2007
RYAN O’DONNELL
CAST OF CHARACTERS
ALEXANDER – FRUSTRATED WRITER
BERNARD – CYNIC
SAMUEL – EXISTENTIALIST
OTOKAR – FINANCIER
MADELEINE – VOICE OF REASON
ARIA – WISE ONE
The age of the characters are ambiguous, and can be played by players of any age.
The players are frozen in a tableau at the start of a play, but as the play progresses, and the character’s ideas are developed, their body parts are gradually granted movement. This is a slow, and gradual process.
SCENE I – WHY?
The play starts off with a dark stage. There is a table at the centre of the stage. There is a typewriter, and numerous pieces of paper. A dim blue light fades in to reveal the set. Behind the table is seated a hunched figure – ALEXANDER (who will from now be referred to as ALEX), with his head in his hands in frustration. Surrounding him are numerous characters, frozen in a tableau around the table. They quietly whisper to one another, like the chattering away of thoughts within the mind. They talk, yet their bodies remain frozen in a tableau. There is an angered groan from Alexander. The characters continue to talk, still remaining motionless.
ALEX: Why…
(The characters continue to talk. Alex’s frustration grows with each ‘why’)
ALEX: Why, why, why, why! (A mild scream of frustration.)
(The surrounding characters grow silent. The blue light disappears and is replaced with white light revealing all on the stage. There is a long silence)
SAMUEL: (Puzzled) Why? Why what?
ALEX: Why can’t I write!? (He groans)
BERNARD: Oh. That. Please try and be more specific with your words. People might think you’re asking something more important.
ARIA: Well, it would be quite a frustrating position to be in. I’m sure it’s a very valid question.
BERNARD: Well sure it’s valid, that doesn’t mean it’s important.
ALEX: (To himself) Why!?
BERNARD: Oh shut up would you.
MADELEINE: Why can’t you write? Who exactly are you asking? That is a question you must ask yourself first.
ALEX: Ask myself? Ok, fine. (He turns around to the characters surrounding the table) Why can’t I write?
MADELEINE: Well there’s a start, you’re actually asking non-rhetorical questions now.
BERNARD: Is he?
OTOKAR: Was that meant to be a rhetorical question creating an inherit sense of irony in the current situation?
BERNARD: I don’t know. Ask them. (He gestures towards the audience using his eyes, though still not moving any other part of his body.)
SAMUEL: Ask who?
BERNARD: Oh you know who I’m talking about.
(A pause.)
OTOKAR: Well, that was mildly confusing.
(There is a brief pause.)
MADELEINE: Is anyone going to give him a proper answer?
BERNARD: (Sighing) Yes, it was meant to be a rhetorical question creating an inherit sense of irony in the current situation. Witty.
MADELEINE: I meant Alex.
BERNARD: Oh. Well in that case, no.
(There is a slightly longer pause)
ALEX: Well?
OTOKAR: Quickly, he’s getting impatient-
SAMUEL: Hmm yes, people do that a lot these days.
BERNARD: (Irritated) Stop talking.
(There is another awkward silence)
ARIA: (A sigh) Oh fine, I’ll give it a shot.
BERNARD: Oh here we go…
(Alex looks at Bernard, annoyed, then turns his attention to Aria)
ALEX: Thank you.
ARIA: (Proudly) You know what they say; thanking others is always thanking yourself. (She chuckles to herself.) Right! Back to the point. Why can’t you write. Well, I’m sure many other people have been stuck in this position before.
OTOKAR: Yes, and we’ve been stuck in this position for quite some time now. My arms are starting to ache actually.
SAMUEL: (Muttering to himself) Oh god, a ‘position’ joke…
MADELEINE: Shh, she’s trying to answer his question.
BERNARD: Yeah, quiet down.
(There is a brief pause)
ARIA: (As if she is trying to think of something to say) Well…hmm…Ok, well, how long have you been stuck like this?
ALEX: I don’t even know anymore. (Struggling) I just…(Pause)…(He sighs.)
(A pause.)
OTOKAR: Well, think of it this way – you are a writer, yes?
ALEX: (He nods.)
OTOKAR: This is your profession, yes?
ALEX: Mhm.
OTOKAR: And it is your only source of income, yes?
ALEX: Yes.
OTOKAR: Well, you should probably get writing then. You can’t feed yourself with unused paper.
ALEX: But…I just…I don’t think I can do that.
BERNARD: So, what, you’re going to just settle with the paper?
ALEX: No.
BERNARD: Then what?
ALEX: It’s not as if I don’t want to write. It’s just that I can’t.
SAMUEL: And the prospect of your eventual death from starvation isn’t enough motivation for you?
ALEX: No, it’s not that it’s just-
BERNARD: Oh come on hurry up and spit it out! Enough of this. I’m sick of your constant stalli-
ALEX: The concept of just writing for money goes against everything I stand for! I refuse to write rubbish for financial ga-
SAMUEL: But think about it! By writing for financial gain in this case, then you are also writing for a gain, of life in a sense. Think of it as writing for an extension of your eventual existence.
ALEX: No! What is the point of living, if the only reason you’re alive is to write absolute trash? It goes against everything I stand for, as a person, and as a writer.
SAMUEL: What?
BERNARD: What what?
ARIA: He wants to write something meaningful?
MADELEINE: He wants his writing to have purpose.
ALEX: I want to do something with my writing. I want to say something to the world.
MADELEINE: He wants to do something with his writing.
BERNARD: He wants to say something to the world.
(A pause.)
OTOKAR: (In disbelief of the previous statements) Of all the possible reasons to write, you chose ‘meaning’?!
SAMUEL: Why not? Meaning is something very important these days.
OTOKAR: But meaning? Of all things – meaning? Meaning, as opposed to money…Are you insane?
BERNARD: Probably not so much insane, as he is in debt.
OTOKAR: Thank you!
ALEX: Hey! That’s an over-generalisation!
OTOKAR: Hey don’t look at me, you’re the writer who isn’t writing for money.
SAMUEL: But why not? Meaning is something very important these days.
BERNARD: Yes, but people these days don’t really care do they?
ARIA: And what do people care about these days, Bernard?
BERNARD: (Sarcastically) Oh I don’t know, the meaning of existence? Yes let’s all sit around and ponder ‘WHY ARE WE HERE?’ for a bit. Yes, you know, just the usual afternoon philosophical discussion.
(A pause.)
MADELEINE: It isn’t really the most original idea.
(A pause.)
BERNARD: (To ALEX, mockingly) Oi, Beckett, there’s an idea for you, write about that.
ALEX: It’s been done…
(A pause.)
MADELEINE: (Speaking very fast) Yes yes, every generation since the rise of secular concepts on mainstream sososociety has grappled with the concept that is the struggle of humanity against the inherent meaninglessness of a godless universe quaquaqua although incidentally the rise and rise of neo-religious values in youth culture is part of the counter balance to secular cynicism. That is, the idea that there is no god has given rise to a backlash where people are rejecting secularism and moving back towards a spiritual life - looking for a tangible hope, a tangible hope, and in turn, the issue of which is the importance or irrelevance, IMPORTANCE or IRRELEVANCE of our existence. Very nihilistic quaquaqua.
ARIA: Yes, I think what she’s trying to say is, yeah, it’s been done. However, I’m sure you can express a somewhat, different opinion.
SAMUEL: Or lack thereof.
ALEX: The whole meaning of life thing is so clichéd. It’s over-rated. What is mankind’s utter fascination with finding purpose behind our existence?
MADELEINE: Well, it’s a very valid question.
ALEX: Sure it’s valid, that doesn’t mean it’s important.
BERNARD: Trying to find something that isn’t there…it’s absurd.
SAMUEL: Definitely.
OTOKAR: Positively absurd.
MADELEINE: Absurd. (With emphasis.) AB – SURD.
SAMUEL: Yes yes!
MADELEINE: No no!
BERNARD: Yes yes!
MADELEINE: Yes yes!
OTOKAR: Yes yes?
ARIA: Ah yes.
MADELEINE: Yes yes, definitely absurd, but who’s to say it isn’t there?
ARIA: Who’s to say it is?
ALEX: Is it there or isn’t it?
BERNARD: I don’t know, do you?
ALEX: No.
BERNARD: Nor do I.
MADELEINE: Have you ever found an answer to that question?
SAMUEL: (Wistfully.) Ah the question…
ALEX: No, not really.
ARIA: Have you ever come close?
ALEX: How would you define ‘close’?
ARIA: Well, in the context, I would define it, probably as an answer that you see as somewhat, fulfilling?
ALEX: When you put it like that, no not really. Anything I came up with was rarely ever fulfilling. It was an answer, but it wasn’t exactly fulfilling.
BERNARD: Well there’s an answer for you.
MADELEINE: What?
BERNARD: There’s life summed up for you right there.
ALEX: What? It’s there, but it’s not exactly fulfilling?
BERNARD: Precisely.
OTOKAR: Rather bleak don’t you think?
BERNARD: No, not particularly. In fact, I think it’s rather optimistic.
SAMUEL: Your sarcasm only further emphasises your bleak stance.
BERNARD: Oh I wasn’t being sarcastic at all. The way I see it, is that we’re here, but if we’re not here for any particular reason, then we’re free to do whatever we want. As I said, optimistic.
SAMUEL: How I love your…’optimism’.
BERNARD: Why thank you.
Silence. Blackout.
SCENE II – WHAT?
There is a long pause. ALEX has got his head down on the table. Apart from ALEX, positions of other characters remain unchanged from previous scene. Lights fade in. There is a long pause. ALEX sits up.
ALEX: (He groans and rubs his face in his hands.) What time is it?
OTOKAR: See, he can’t even afford a clock! And he’s writing for meaning!
MADELEINE: It’s eleven forty-seven.
BERNARD: How can you tell?
MADELEINE: It’s time.
SAMUEL: Yes. Time.
ARIA: Time?
MADELEINE: Eleven forty-seven.
SAMUEL: What time?
MADELEINE: You can’t see it?
SAMUEL: I can’t seem to find it.
BERNARD: Nobody ever does…
ARIA: Maybe you could sleep on it?
ALEX: (Bluntly.) Insomniac.
ARIA: Insomnia has always led to greatness.
SAMUEL: (Excited and curiously.) Are you depressed at all?
ALEX: Maybe, a little? Why-
BERNARD: (Excited and curiously.) Angry?
ALEX: (Irritated) At this, yes, why-
BERNARD: Ok, we can rule that theory out.
ALEX: What, what? I don’t get it?
OTOKAR: Forget it.
ARIA: Only really works if you’ve got a sense of angst.
SAMUEL: (Wistfully.) Ahh angst. What a lovely thing.
OTOKAR: Especially these days. The helpless exploitation of youth angst. Brilliant.
SAMUEL: Tis a wonderful thing.
ALEX: No it’s not, it’s stupid!
OTOKAR: Hey, you know what’s stupid? You’re stupid. Pft meaning. Pft.
BERNARD: Don’t listen to him.
SAMUEL: Although, existential angst…
BERNARD: Cashing in on people’s problems…despicable.
MADELEINE: It’s the whole music industry! (A pause.) And the art industry! (A pause.) And the theatre industry! (A pause.) And the writing industry!
BERNARD: It’s despicable!
ALEX: Detestable!
BERNARD: Disgraceful!
ALEX: Deplorable!
BERNARD: Disgusting!
ALEX: Revolting!
BERNARD: Repugnant!
ALEX: It’s unbelievable!
BERNARD: It’s unfair!
ALEX: Unbelievably!
(A pause.)
BERNARD: Despicable.
(Silence. A pause. ALEX lifts up his hands in front of his face and looks at them, curiously. He continues to look at his hands inquisitively.)
ARIA: Brought them down they did.
OTOKAR: Oh, quite the contrary.
MADELEINE: A statement, if anything.
SAMUEL: The quality is questionable
BERNARD: The work is damaging.
MADELEINE: Detracting, if anything.
SAMUEL: The standard is questionable.
OTOKAR: I beg to differ.
ARIA: The cause of many a thing.
MADELEINE: The suffering!
OTOKAR: The joy!
SAMUEL: The angst!
OTOKAR: The progress!
BERNARD: The regression!
MADELEINE: Only we could have done this.
SAMUEL: Yes. We did. And why?
BERNARD: Why?
OTOKAR: Why?
MADELEINE: Why?
ARIA: Why?
SAMUEL: And what are we going to do about it?
OTOKAR: Can we do something about it?
ARIA: I’m sure we can.
MADELEINE: I’m sure it’s a possibility.
SAMUEL: Can we?
BERNARD: Not likely.
MADELEINE: No?
BERNARD: Even if we did, who would listen?
ARIA: Would things change?
BERNARD: Change?
OTOKAR: What is there to do?
BERNARD: Let’s not do anything.
OTOKAR: We can’t do anything.
SAMUEL: Agreed.
MADELEINE: And where are we going with this?
OTOKAR: What direction is there to go in?
BERNARD: It all seems to be going backward.
SAMUEL: Or no where at all.
MADELEINE: You can’t help but think what they think.
BERNARD: If anything.
(ALEX continues to look at his hands. He puts them down on the desk.)
ALEX: With these hands…what is there to do…so much has already been done…with these hands…
ARIA: The hands of the world are with you this evening.
ALEX: Mm yes. Making the evening a pretty unproductive one.
ARIA: Maybe you could sleep on it?
ALEX: Insomnia has escaped me.
(ALEX stands up. He looks around. He looks down at the desk. He exits.)
ARIA: We cured his insomnia!
BERNARD: I hope we weren’t too boring.
(Silence. Blackout.)
SCENE III – REALISATION.
Lights fade in. ALEX has not returned to his chair. The other characters appear to have fallen asleep. ALEX stumbles in looking as if he has just woken up. He is carrying a cup of coffee in one hand, and a briefcase in the other. He opens up the briefcase and pulls out a bundle of papers. He straightens them up on the table and lays them down. He looks back into the briefcase and pulls out a light bulb, and lays it on the desk. He looks back into the briefcase, pulls out an apple, and lays it on the desk. He looks at what he has just arranged, then slams the briefcase shut. The other characters awake with a start.
OTOKAR: (Startled) I’m awake! I’m awake!
SAMUEL: (He groans.) Ahh, what is it now?
ALEX: Good morning world.
MADELEINE: Good afternoon by the look of things.
ARIA: (Disappointed and tonelessly.) I was dreaming.
ALEX: (Nostalgically) So was I.
ARIA: I dreamt…I dreamt that I was here. It was bright. And we were happy.
ALEX: I dreamt…There was a stage. I was on it. The spotlight was on me. And I just couldn’t speak. I didn’t know my lines. At all. The others on stage kept looking at me (the other characters all look at ALEX). I didn’t know what to do. It was terrifying. It seems to be a recurring nightmare. Happened the other day too.
SAMUEL: What do you think it means?
MADELEINE: Maybe you could write about it?
OTOKAR: (Sarcastically.) A poem!
MADELEINE: Yes! A haiku!
ALEX: (Peacefully.) Standing on the stage. Knowing lines I do not know. Recurring nightmare.
BERNARD: Well there’s a start.
SAMUEL: Dreams are such a useful tool.
(There is a pause as the characters notice the objects on the desk which ALEX has placed there.)
BERNARD: …And what are those for?
ALEX: Inspiration.
MADELEINE: A tangible hope?
OTOKAR: Hope in what?
ARIA: An idea.
(The characters stop and look at the light bulb.)
ALEX: Maybe I can sit here and hope for an idea.
(There is a pause. Silence.)
ALEX: Ok scratch that.
MADELEINE: So any ideas since yesterday?
ALEX: Nope. Same old, same old.
OTOKAR: You wouldn’t happen to have any money in that briefcase would you?
ALEX: Nope.
OTOKAR: And no ideas either. Wow, you’re brilliant aren’t you?
ARIA: It’ll come soon enough.
ALEX: I’ve got a message, I just don’t know what to do with it.
ARIA: What is it?
BERNARD: Society’s problems?
SAMUEL: The meaning of it all?
MADELEINE: Let’s be reasonable.
ARIA: Words of wisdom?
ALEX: Have you noticed how you never see people writing about how good things are?
OTOKAR: Yeah, what’s with that? Lighten up.
BERNARD: (He laughs.) Hah, get it, lighten up. And there’s a light bulb on the table. Haha.
OTOKAR: (Angrily.) Enough with the puns!
BERNARD: (Jokingly, while laughing.) Hey, lighten up!
(OTOKAR groans and sighs.)
ALEX: I mean, look at it. You never see people going ‘life is great, we’re brilliant, we’re the best, the world works.’
BERNARD: Mm, if anything, it’s quite the opposite.
ARIA: You know what’s funny?
MADELEINE: What?
ARIA: When everyone is miserable, it’s clichéd, but when all is well and everything is good, it’s a double cliché.
ALEX: Don’t you just hate endings like that?
MADELEINE: Which, the horribly good, or the horribly bad?
ALEX: The horribly good. It’s so over done.
BERNARD: Yes, but what isn’t these days?
SAMUEL: Films about finding humour in the disabled?
BERNARD: It’s been done.
SAMUEL: Damn.
(A pause.)
ALEX: (Excitedly.) I know! I’ll write a musical. It’ll be called ‘HIGH SCHOOL – THE MUSICAL’. It’ll be completely the opposite of everything you see these days. It will be blatantly offensive, the humour will be dry, and the ending is as miserable as ever, but with a cheerful tune, to go out with a bang.
OTOKAR: Hasn’t that already been done?
MADELEINE: I think you’re thinking of something else.
ARIA: Yeah, that one was happy.
BERNARD: And clichéd.
OTOKAR: (As if struggling to remember something.) I could’ve sworn it’s been done…
ALEX: Way to burst my bubble.
OTOKAR: Hah, take that meaning-boy!
ALEX: (He screams.) I GIVE UP.
(He pushes the papers off his desk in a frenzy, then picks up the apple, stands up, and throws it at the floor. He storms off stage.)
ARIA: Quick! Somebody get him!
(SAMUEL runs to the apple, picks it up, and cradles it like a baby. He runs back to where he was standing, and continues to cradle the apple. He looks side to side, as if checking if anyone is looking, and then takes a bite out of the apple, then returns to cradling it.)
BERNARD: (Irritated.) I’ll get him…
(BERNARD exits the way ALEX left.)
OTOKAR: You know this wouldn’t have happened if-
MADELEINE: Shut up will you!
OTOKAR: Fine! (He crosses his arms.)
(BERNARD and ALEX enter again from the opposite side of the stage where they left. ALEX is being directed by BERNARD from behind. ALEX walks while looking at the ground. BERNARD is looking straight ahead. BERNARD directs ALEX to his chair, and sits him down. ALEX is slumped in his chair looking down at the ground. BERNARD slowly walks away from ALEX. There is a pause. ALEX picks up the papers that he has displaced from his desk, straightens them, and returns them to where they were before. A pause.)
ALEX: (Breathing heavily.) Calm. Calm. I’m calm. I apologise for my outburst. It was made out of frustration. As one does. (He looks at his table and notices the missing apple.) Hey where’s the-
(SAMUEL slowly walks up to the table and places the apple on the table, and backs away. He hastily walks back to the table, re-adjusts the position of the apple.)
SAMUEL: (Guiltily.) Sorry…
ARIA: It’s understandable.
OTOKAR: Perfectly understandable.
ALEX: I’m just so fed up with this! I can’t write!
MADELEINE: Maybe you’re just stuck for ideas?
ALEX: May – be!
OTOKAR: Or maybe you’re just a crappy writer.
ALEX: May – be!
ARIA: Or maybe both?
(There is a long pause.)
BERNARD: Maybe you’re just cynical?
(There is a very long pause. Alex sits up, as if he is about to type something.)
ALEX: I have an idea.
(He hurriedly types something up on the typewriter, while the other characters look on, intrigued. Finally, he finishes, with a look of accomplishment on his face. The lights fade out, save for a single spotlight on ALEX sitting, and looking at the typewriter. BERNARD walks over to the typewriter, and pulls out the piece of paper. He looks at it for a moment.)
BERNARD: (Reading what is typed) ‘The Birth of a Cynic – A Theatrical Exploration of Why One Chooses to write.’
Silence. Blackout. The play has ended.
End scene.
