also an ardent peace activist, strongly opposing his country's involvement in the invasion and occupation of Iraq. It is probably just a coincidence, but during the week he received the Nobel prize, a document was given to us (the publishers of this GimpBlog) purporting to be an unpublished play of Mr. Pinter. In honor of his recent award, we would like make a portion of this amazing document available to the faithful readers of this blog. And so, here we have for the first time, a section of Pinter's unpublished play from 1964, The Fog of Family. One of Mr. Pinter's trademarks has been the periods of silence between words and sentences. This play makes skillful use of these long, often unbearable pauses, which cause both actors and audience no end of discomfort. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
FOG OF FAMILY
A play in three acts by Harold Pinter
CAST OF CHARACTERS
The Emerson family:
Mr. and Mrs. Emerson
Number One Son Ralph
Number Two Son Stephen
Number One Daughter LauraLee.
There is also dog and a parakeet.
THE SETTING
A suburban dining room, somewhere on the coast. The time is now, or maybe later. A senior couple (the Emersons) is sitting at the dining table. Five places are set. A TV is on low, no one is watching it. The Emerson children are due in for Thanksgiving.
ACT I, SCENE 1 A FEW DAYS BEFORE THANKSGIVING
Mr. Emerson: Fog sure is comin' in thick tonight.
Mrs. Emerson: Very thick. Can't hardly see. (pause)
Mr. Emerson: Hope they'll be able to find the place. Fog's so damn thick. Maybe they won't be able to find it.
Mrs. Emerson: (pause) Yeah. Fog's so thick. Think they'll like it?
Mr. Emerson: (pause) Like what, the fog? (pause) No, I don't think they'll like it. (pause)
Mrs. Emerson: No, not the fog. Of course they won't like it. I mean the dinner. Will they like it?
Mr. Emerson: Don't know. They might. (pause) What is it?
Mrs. Emerson: What is what?
Mr. Emerson: (pause) What do you mean, what is what? (pause) The dinner. What's for dinner?
Mrs. Emerson: (longer pause) Tonight? We had green beans, steak, fried potatoes. But you didn't have any desert.
Mr. Emerson: No. Not tonight. No desert. Why?
Mrs. Emerson: I don't know. (pause) Maybe you didn't feel like it.
Mr. Emerson: Doesn't matter if I felt like it or not. Tell me what's for dinner, and (pause) then and only then can I tell you (pause) if I think they'll like it.
Mrs. Emerson: OK. (pause) What do you want to know?
Mr. Emerson: Well...what are we having for Thanksgiving dinner?
Mrs. Emerson: Oh. Thanksgiving. We're having tofurkee, potatoes, creamed spinach, uncreamed spinach, carrots with the skins left on (that's for Number Two Son Stephen, he likes 'em that way, you know) and some pumpkin pie with raspberry flavored (all natural) tofu yogurt. You agreed to this last week.
Mr. Emerson: I did? (pause) What's with all this tofu jerkey?
Mrs. Emerson: Tofurkee, you mean. We're trying to make everyone happy. A little something for everyone, you know.
Mr. Emerson: Yeah. (pause) Except me. Why can't we have some real turkey and have have some of that tofuyou stuff too? Works for me.
Mrs. Emerson: Well, it doesn't work for them. (pause) She won't have anything to do with a dead bird on the table. She's still doing that animal rights stuff.
Mr. Emerson: It’s that California air. Makes ‘em crazy. (pause) Never heard of not eating turkey on Thanksgiving. Gotta have turkey. That’s what its all about.
Mrs. Emerson: (pause) Well, she didn’t eat it last year either. Or the year before. (pause) It’s not exactly new for her. She does have her principles (pause) and sticks to them. Gotta give her credit for that, at least.
Mr. Emerson: At least. Yeah. Let’s give her that (pause) at least.
ACT II, SCENE 1 THANKSGIVING DINNER
Ralph: Pass the potatoes, please.
Mrs. Emerson: More potatoes? (pause) Are you sure you want more potatoes? You’re bustin’ out of your clothes now. Why add fuel to the fire?
LauraLee: Leave him alone! (pause) He knows what he should eat. For Christ’s sake, he’s 35 years old!
Mrs. Emerson: (pause) Now don’t start bringing religion into this. Lord knows we got enough goin’ on here without bringing Christ and the angels into this.
Mr. Emerson: (pause) You’re one to talk. I suppose you think you know what to eat. You and that toffuyou turkey.
LauraLee: That’s tofu, Dad. Tofu.
Mr. Emerson: Could’a fooled me. (pause) Seems to have made a fool out you, anyway.
Stephen: Hey! Don’t call your only daughter a fool! Have some respect, will ya.
LauraLee: It’s OK. I’m used to it. He can’t give what he doesn’t have.
Mr. Emerson: (pause) And what is it that I don’t have, exactly?
Mrs. Emerson: Who wants some hot, delicious pumpkin pie? We have dairy and non dairy versions. And even soy strawberry yogurt for topping. But we also have non-soy (regular) strawberry yogurt. So something to make everyone happy. (pause) Yes, so everyone can be happy now, can’t they?
ACT III, SCENE I THE MORNING AFTER
Mrs. Emerson has taken Mr. Emerson to a medical appointment. The “kids” are having coffee and tea, sitting around the table. This is the “kids” last meal together, the morning after Thanksgiving dinner.
Stephen: It was good seeing you all again.
Ralph: Yeah. Really great.
LauraLee: We should do this more often.
Stephen and Ralph: Yeah, let’s do it with just us three. We haven’t done that in years.
LauraLee: When would be a good time? (pause) We’re all so busy now. And with you two in New York and me in Berkley, we’re not as close as we used to be.
Stephen: No, (pause) not as close.
Ralph: Yeah, well its hard. We’re all different people now. Not the same as we used to be.
LauraLee: Not the same. Not the same at all. (pause) My divorce and miscarriage, your illness Ralph, and your being without work for so long Stephen.
Ralph: What about my illness? You think it’s something I asked for? (pause) You think its fun to live like this? Do you? (pause) Think I like it? (pause) Well, I don’t! I hate it! I hate it! I can’t take it anymore?
LauraLee: Calm down! Calm down.
Ralph: Easy for you to say. You’re healthy enough, even with your miscarriage.
LauraLee: At least you’re still married. You’ve got that.
Ralph: (pause) Married but doomed. How many years do I have left? Five, maybe ten if I’m lucky. (pause) Or unlucky. Just depends on how you look at it, doesn’t it?
Stephen: Well you both have work, don’t you. Try being out of work for a few years. (pause) See how you like that! Think I like having to borrow from mom and dad and both of you? I’m such a goddamn loser. Loser. (pause) Just a big fat goddamn loser.
Stephen breaks down in hysterical sobs.
Ralph: C’mon Stephen. It’s OK. Things will improve.
LauraLee: Hey Stevie boy. Come here, big guy.
LaureLee cradles Stephen in her arms as his sobs continue unabated. Then LauraLee starts weeping, gently, rocking Stephen in her arms.
At this point, Ralph can’t hold back any longer and joins the communal sobfest, whispering quietly, “I’m dying, I’m dying. Somebody please help me, please please help me!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Editor: Sorry folks, but that’s all that we are allowed to reprint. You can purchase Fog of Family at Amazon.com or most quality booksellers. The publishers of the GimpBlog extend their gratitude to the Pinter Estate for their kind permission in publishing this dramatic excerpt.
3 comments:
My dear Sir Gimp, an exceptionally masterful piece. Seems to be a more common occurrence than the Currier and Ives scenes with which most of us associate our holiday memories. Especially resonant for me is the third act, where the "kids" are reminding each other that they aren't the same people they grew up with. So true, otherwise how else can you resolve the fact that Serious B's monster truck drivin', war-supportin', gun-ownin' brother is preparing to move to Utah with the rest of the card-carrying conservatives? And this is someone who received his conscientious objector status during the Vietnam war...and yes, we had the same parents.
The Gimp shows his versatility in this theatre of the absurd. His Pinteresque mini play reveres the dramatist while it adds a poignant scene to disintegrating (and grating)families.
Sir Gimp has absorbed the style and poignancies of a modern playwright--and becomes one himself.
Is it real, or is it Gimp? Thanks for all the pauses...
I honestly don't know if this is fact or fiction.....Sir Gimp says it is from a play by another writer but the issues seems to close to home to be fiction. Unless Mr. Pinter has hit upon something universal. Is it live...or is it memorex?
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