The Astronaut's Chair

Rona Munro

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2016
• eBook ISBN: 9781780017013
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

A thrilling play about the race to be the first woman in space.

Renee Coburg is a gritty, glamorous aviator, the fastest, highest, bravest woman in the world. Jo Green is a determined, brilliant and much younger pilot with her eye on all Renee's records. They both want to be the first woman in space but there's only one chair at the top of the rocket.

Rona Munro's play The Astronaut's Chair was first performed at the Drum Theatre, Plymouth, in 2012. It followed her earlier play, Little Eagles, about the space race in Russia.

ACT ONE

Desert, 1957.

RENEE and STEVE are camping out in the desert. It’s a clear starry night. RENEE is looking at the sky.

STEVE is fiddling with a shortwave radio, trying to tune something in.

RENEE (her eyes still on the sky). Have you got it?

STEVE tunes it in.

The sound of the Sputnik satellite.

STEVE. That’s it.

They both listen, both looking up.

Want to try the binoculars?

RENEE. No, I know it’s up there.

STEVE. The sound…

RENEE. What about it?

STEVE. It sounds like it… shimmers… a shining sound.

RENEE. It’s kind of scary though, isn’t it?

STEVE. What?

RENEE. That’s the Russians, right? The Russians are up there, right now, above our heads.

STEVE. It’s a silver ball. Just a silver ball.

I’ll tell you what’s scary. There’s a place up there, only a mile or so above your head, where the air stops, and the gentle warmth of Earth stops, and there’s nothing between you and all of eternity but dark. You’d choke in seconds. The rage of the unshielded Sun would boil your blood. The bottomless cold of space would freeze your eyes open, as you died, looking at the whole, empty universe that presses in on this tiny speck of dust we call home. And there’s guys like me who dream of nothing but getting out there…

RENEE. Wow.

Poetry.

And I thought you were just a medical man from Illinois, Dr Finnegan.

STEVE. Colonel Finnegan.

RENEE. A doctor who had himself a little war.

STEVE. Decorated officer, ma’am. US Air Force.

RENEE. So you can fly yourself up to the edge of space, Dr Steve.

STEVE. No, ma’am. They won’t let me do that.

RENEE. Why not?

STEVE. Leg full of shrapnel.

RENEE. That’s too bad.

Want me to take you up?

STEVE. What?

RENEE. I’ve got my bird here. I could take you up tomorrow.

STEVE. Your bird?

RENEE. I’ve got a F-68 Sabre waiting over at the base but I reckon I could talk us in to a two-seater if you like.

STEVE. Who are you?

RENEE. Steve, you know who I am. I’m a pretty girl you met in a bar and sweet-talked into coming out here to see the stars.

STEVE. And you’ve got a jet?

RENEE. Sure do. And tomorrow I’ll take you up to look at Sputnik. If you want.

STEVE. And the day after?

RENEE. I’m flying home to my husband.

A beat.

Okay, Dr Finnegan?

STEVE. Colonel Finnegan.

RENEE. Excuse me, airman. Okay, Steve?

STEVE. Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.

They kiss. It becomes more passionate.

STEVE breaks away.

He exits.

An instant shift in time and place, we are now in –

Hospital garden, 1964.

RENEE is close to collapse. LARISSA enters.

She checks RENEE’s pulse. RENEE barely reacts. She’s looking up at the sky.

RENEE. There’s a woman up there, can you see her?

LARISSA (matter-of-fact). I think you’re going to die tonight.

RENEE. Excuse me?

LARISSA. I think you’re going to die tonight if you don’t make an effort.

RENEE. Are you my nurse?

LARISSA. I’m your doctor.

RENEE. Well, what kind of a bedside manner is that?

LARISSA. It’s up to you.

RENEE. You can’t talk to me like that.

LARISSA. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe you’re ready.

RENEE. I’m not ready to die. I’m on my way home, missy. My bag is packed. I’m out of here. Watch me.

LARISSA shrugs.

LARISSA. Your pulse is weak.

RENEE. I’m going home.

LARISSA. I don’t think so.

RENEE. Help me get up.

LARISSA. If you can’t do it yourself it’s time to lie down.

RENEE. What kind of nurse are you!?

LARISSA. I’m your doctor.

RENEE. You’re not my doctor, Steve’s my doctor.

LARISSA. He’s out.

RENEE. Out where?

LARISSA. At a party.

RENEE. Well, get him back here.

LARISSA. We’re only supposed to contact him in emergencies.

RENEE. You said I was dying!

LARISSA. That’s not an emergency, not if it’s your time.

RENEE. What do you mean, my time! I’m only… I’m not old.

LARISSA. You look old.

RENEE. I’m not old!

LARISSA. You look very old.

RENEE. Get me my make-up bag!

LARISSA is just looking at her. RENEE is furious.

Will you please bring me my bag. (As LARISSA hesitates.)
I can see it! It’s right there!

She’s pointing at it. LARISSA brings over what’s basically a large vanity case.

RENEE struggles to open it.

(Looking through make-up, selecting.) All right… all right… let’s see now… dying? What does she mean… dying… nurses these days…

LARISSA. I am a doctor…

RENE...

Table of contents

• Contents
• Original Production
• Characters
• The Astronaut’s Chair
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information