The King of Hell's Palace

Frances Ya-Chu Cowhig

• Publisher: Methuen Drama
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781350150454
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Theatre Playwriting

When the Henan Ministry of Health begins paying citizens for blood plasma which is then sold to pharmaceutical companies, impoverished farmers in the province's remote villages sell blood to buy fertilizer, mend their houses and create a better life for their children. As corrupt health officials cut costs to maximize profits, safety standards are ignored, bringing potential catastrophe to China's most vulnerable population. Inspired by true events, this gripping drama explores the conflicts that arise when a community's greatest source of capital becomes their own bodies. Focusing on the personal repercussions of the cover-up, The King of Hell's Palace questions how political and medical decisions are made and how both a family and an entire country can look to recover from traumatic events.

Act One

Scene One

A rural highway in Henan. Early February, 1992. Sunset on the eve of Chinese New Year.

Kuan and Wen, brothers and migrant workers, move briskly along the side of the road, weighed down by overstuffed canvas bags.

Wen Deng Xiaoping says, “It doesn’t matter if the cat is white or black. As long as it catches mice, it is a very good cat.”

Kuan Black cats are bad luck.

Wen That’s called “backwards thinking.” We survived the biggest tragedy of the twentieth century—

Kuan That German killed more.

Wen Mao caused five times as many deaths. His ghost must be pissed the German’s getting more credit. We’re survivors. Can we agree on that?

Kuan I agree we’re not dead.

Wen Which means: it’s time to have bigger dreams!

Kuan Things are better now.

Wen Compared to disaster.

Kuan Our fields are fertile. They produce high yields—

Wen Of a crop worth less than paper. Half our potatoes feed pigs. The famine is over! Why grow a plant that yields so little profit we spend fifty weeks a year in the mines and go home for two weeks?

Kuan Potatoes are practical.

Wen Deng Xiaoping wants to help us get rich. He won’t succeed if we cling to ancient ideas and reject modern thinking. Let’s switch to a cash crop, stay home and live with our family.

The sound of firecrackers from a nearby courtyard.

Kuan Move faster. This highway’s not safe after dark.

Wen huffs his armpits, smells his breath, then rummages through his bag.

Wen Lili’s waited eleven months for this moment. I should smell fresh.

Kuan Corpse flowers are fresh.

Wen What’s a corpse flower?

Kuan They bloom once a year and smell like rotting flesh.

Wen You have no idea how much better my girl fries my rice when she’s into me.

Points to surrounding fields.

I could just roll through these fields if we grew something fragrant—like jasmine or peonies.

Kuan And end up smelling like shit. What flower blooms in the middle of winter?

Wen Ma’s under those fields! Let’s grow something good with soil made from her—

Kuan (cutting him off) It’s good to have food in your belly.

Wen (as he continues to search bag) Peonies are practical. They symbolize good fortune, riches and prosperity. City folks need them for New Year’s, weddings and Grand Openings.

The sound of a large truck approaching.

Kuan Get off the road.

Wen The money’s not just in the blooms. A woman who eats white peony root becomes as beautiful as the flower itself.

Kuan Are you trying to die?

The truck grows closer. Wen crows triumphantly, pulls out a can of spray deodorant and sprays it liberally all over himself.

Wen Peonies are good medicine. They cure all kinds of dis—

LOUD, LONG HONK. Kuan pulls Wen off the road. The sound of the truck whooshing past.

Wen (to truck driver) Fuck your ancestors!

More firecrackers. Kuan walks faster.

Wen I mean it about switching crops. I’ve had enough gold mines for six lifetimes.

Kuan With peonies it’s three years to first harvest.

Wen Let’s put roots in the ground soon.

Kuan How will we buy root stock? How will we live while they’re growing?

Wen Better than we would breathing dust in the mines. Gold lung is a hard way to die. Even on dry land you feel like you’re drowning.

Kuan We’re home for two weeks. Enjoy it. Don’t talk to me about illegal petitions.

Wen Miners are dropping like flies. Families should be compensated for their deaths.

Kuan We won’t sign it.

Wen What if I already did?

Kuan Idiot! What were you thinking? If management finds out—

Wen Management did. Happy New Year! We won’t be breathing gold dust anymore!

Kuan We?!

Wen They think like Red Guards.

Kuan punches Wen. He falls to the ground.

Wen You should thank me!

Off the sound of more firecrackers.

See? The King of Heaven is celebrating! We endured the chaos, the...