Sons Without Fathers

(The untitled play, known as Platonov)

Helena Kaut-Howson

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2013
• Print ISBN: 9781783190041
• eBook ISBN: 9781783195039
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Arte dramático británico

Too old to move with the times; too young to let go of their dreams Village school teacher Platonov is a man who is loved by women. Despite his best intentions he is drawn into a series of extra-marital affairs that all hold the promise of escape from the provincial Russian reality where he and his circle of friends are trapped. Consumed by bitterness and disappointment, they attempt to fill the void in their lives with sex and vodka, blaming their fathers for the mess they've been left in. Sons Without Fathers is a brand-new version of Chekhov's remarkable first play. Helena Kaut-Howson's version chooses to focus on just one of the many themes covered in the original text – the predicament of a disaffected generation left adrift in a world without hope. Updated to modern-day Russia, the play intertwines the central story with contemporary political issues.

ACT TWO

SCENE ONE

Outside the schoolhouse.

A clearing in the forest which further up thickens into total darkness. By the wall of the schoolhouse a simple bench, downstage a bucket with rainwater. Railway track. Telegraph poles. Night. Inside the faintly lit window SASHA. In front of it OSIP with a shotgun across his shoulder.

OSIP: How did it happen? Simple. I’m walking along the edge of the forest, not far from here, and here she is, standing in a little stream; her skirt hitched up, she scoops water from the stream with a burdock leaf. She scoops it and she drinks it, she scoops it and she drinks it and then she pours it over her head. I climb down, and watch her from close by. ‘What’re you staring at?’ she says. ‘Haven’t you seen a human being or what?’ Then she gives me a knowing look and says ‘Or perhaps you have taken a fancy to me?’ ‘That I have’, says I, ‘I’ve taken a terrible fancy to you, madam! I haven’t seen a more beautiful woman in my whole life. Put beside our village beauty, Manka is nothing but a camel, a donkey. You are so fine, if I was to kiss you I’d drop dead on the spot!’ She laughs and says, ‘Well kiss me if you like.’ I feel cold sweat running through me. I come up to her, take her gently by the shoulder and give her a smacking kiss, right here between neck and cheek.

SASHA: (Laughs.) And what did she do?

OSIP: ‘Now,’ she says, ‘clear out! And wash more often, you smell.

SASHA: She is bold woman! (Hands him a dish with the soup.) There. Eat that. Sit yourself down somewhere.

OSIP: You are very kind. I might repay you kindness one day. (Sits down on a bench.) Since that day I’ve gone right off my mind. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Kept seeing her before me... I close my eyes and there she is, standing right before me. Got so soft-hearted, I was ready to hang myself. I was ready to take a potshot at the old general. When she got widowed I started doing all kind of errands for her, shooting partridges and such. Once brought her a real live wolf. All kind of satisfactions. If she told me to go and whip myself I would do it. That’s tender passion for you. You can’t help it, can you.

SASHA: I know. When I fell for my husband, and before I knew he loved me too, I was so miserable, I even prayed to god to make me die, sinful as it was.

OSIP: There you are, you see, that’s what feelings can do (Drinks the remainder of the soup.) There wouldn’t be more soup, would there? (Gives her the bowl.)

SASHA: There is no more soup, but would you like some potatoes? I fried them in goose fat. (Goes away and after a minute appears in the window with a saucepan and wooden spoon.)

OSIP: Thank you kindly (Takes the saucepan and eats.) Last Easter I took her a hare. ‘There you are, your Ladyship, I brought you this cross-eyed little fellow.’ She takes it in her hands, strokes it and asks: ‘Is it true, Osip what they say of you, that you a criminal, a bandit? ‘True,’ I say. ‘People wouldn’t be saying it, if it wasn’t.’ Lovely potatoes!

SASHA: Why don’t you go to church, Osip?

OSIP: Afraid people might laugh... Say I was remorseful. Anyway too much folk around church in daylight, might finish me off.

SASHA: Why do you hurt poor people then?

OSIP: Why not? It’s not for your head, little lady. Doesn’t Mr Platonov hurt anyone?

SASHA: Never! And if he does it would be by accident, not meaning it. He is a kind man.

OSIP: Tell the truth, I respect him more than the others. Young Voynitzev, general’s boy, is a bit of a fool, not too clever. Your brother, begging your pardon, a fool too, though he is a doctor. But then Mr Platonov has some brains about him. Any degrees?

SASHA: Of course. He’s been to the university.

OSIP: That so? (Pause.) Good for him! Hmm. Clever lad, but not very kind. Everybody is an idiot in his eyes, everybody’s a fool. Is that kind? If I was a clever, decent man like him I would take all those fools and idiots and stroke their little heads. They are unhappy people, miserable. One should have pity on them! No, he is not kind. Proud, like hell, knows how to seem friendly, but not how to be kind... You wouldn’t understand it. (Returns the saucepan.) I thank you ma’m, I could eat such potatoes all day long!

SASHA: You’re welcome.

OSIP: (Sighing.) That’s what I call kindness. Why do you always give me a meal? There is no drop of female venom in you, is there? Blessed amongst the women. (Laughs.) First time I see someone like that... Saint Alexandra, prays for us sinners! (Bows low.)

SASHA: I hear my husband.

OSIP: I don’t think so. Chances are your husband is now discussing tender feelings with the young Mrs Voynitzev. Handsome man if he wanted to, he could have the female sex after him. And he likes to talk. (Laughs.) Making up to the general’s widow... But she’ll rap him on the knuckles for all his handsomeness. He may fancy it but not her.

SASHA: You are starting to talk rubbish. I don’t like it. Go on now, God be with you.

OSIP: I am going. Time for you to be in bed, you are not waiting up for your hubby, are you?

SASHA: I am.

OSIP: Good little wife, Mr Platonov must have searched for you with a candle. (Bows down to her.) Be well, little lady. Rejoice Saint Alexandra!

SASHA: Not so loud, the baby’s asleep. (Yawns.) Go home Osip, goodnight.

OSIP: I am going (Goes.) My home is where the earth is the floor, the sky is the ceiling. One good thing – there is no tax to pay. (Stops and turns to her.) Come and visit me one day, in my forest home. Ask for Osip, every bird will show you the way, every lizard... See that tree stump glowing? My mother used to say tree stump glows where a sinner is buried. It glows so people know to pray for him... There’s another one. And another... Great many sinners in this world.

Goes and, after a while we hear him whistle.

SASHA: He’s been a long time. ... Shhh... Someone’s coming. It’s Misha! At last! (Comes out and runs into the darkness calling out.) Yoo-hoo! Misha! Here? Left, right, left right, left right!...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Introduction
• Contents
• Characters
• ACT ONE
• ACT TWo