The Oberon Anthology of Contemporary French Plays

Remi De Vos, Magali Mougel, Lancelot Hamelin, Adeline Picault, Chris Campbell

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9781786820723
• eBook ISBN: 9781786820730
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: European Drama
• Index: Literature

A diverse selection of contemporary plays from a range of established and up-and-coming playwrights based in France, edited and translated by Chris Campbell, literary manager of the Royal Court, and a foreword by Dr Clare Finburgh of the University of Kent. The volume includes: Rémi De Vos – Till Death Adeline Picault - Bobine And Mikado Magali Mougel - Erwin Motor, Devotion Lancelot Hamelin - Alta Villa

BOBIN AND MIKADO

ADELINE PICAULT

Translation supported by Beaumarchais-SACD

SCENE 1

A bar. Not in France. Far away. Elsewhere. BOBIN, MIKADO, JIM. There might be others or there might not. They’re not in the play.

JIM:

A bar.

The three of them are in a bar from the beginning since it all starts here. Bobin reading and eating peanuts. Mikado drinking tea. Me, Jim, me, eyes riveted on Bobin.

That fan.

It’s too hot.

Dated music playing, the kind that’s got a sort of faded charm but tastes pretty good in the mouth anyway, so, no, not dated really.

Me, Jim, me, eyes riveted on Bobin. Me, Jim, me, there’s something riverbank about me because for Bobin. For Bobin, I could just as easily do railway platform, runway, window, anything you stand and watch people leave from because it’s her, it’s Bobin and between the two of us, something somehow seems to have left.

Bobin, eyes fixed on her book and peanuts in the other hand. Mikado looks up and gets 132 American skyscrapers smack in the face because pow, he sees Bobin.

Compared to this an avalanche is soothing.

Pow, he sees Bobin.

Mikado getting Bobin full in the guts, it’s a long way from nothing much. It’s the opposite of nothing on the Richter scale. Violent. Love at first sight, and that can break your jaw like glass, it’s been proved, it could be. An upper cut would do less damage. He looks at her. He falls: body slack. Everything falls apart. Gets up and falls.

She doesn’t notice.

Guy on the ground, she doesn’t notice.

That’s her all right!

All right, that’s her.

Me, Jim, me still on her, not blinking.

Bobin slowly pulls out from her book, edging out.

Slowly.

It’s too hot.

That fan.

Barely, from the corner of her eye, takes in Mikado on the floor.

Furtive, furtive eyes.

Barely at all.

JIM crashes to the ground.

She doesn’t notice me.

She dives back into her book. Yes a book can be a swimming pool.

Two bodies collapsed.

A woman reading to the music, and deep down inside already she’s gulped down two human beings and a song and this moment. Her eyes, and the world shades its gaze.

Blackout.

SCENE 2

Start that again, everything back in its place, everyone back in place.

JIM:

Ah sure there’s none like us. Just before, it’s just before as if they’d rewound the tape on the three of us. In the meantime though, there’s been rough stuff. Oh yeah. There’s been damage. Something’s been torn in each of us except her. Me, Jim, me, I say “her”, “her” because she’s the only one here and, for little enough, I’d believe she could fly away.

MIKADO:

What do you think?

BOBIN:

…

JIM:

Don’t answer.

MIKADO:

What do you think?

BOBIN:

…

JIM:

Don’t answer. Don’t hear him. Keep it closed while you still can.

MIKADO:

Miss! What do you think?

BOBIN:

I look up, look at him, come out of the book because I was right in it, I was someone in it, almost a heroine you could say, almost a phrase, a hesitation. Not any more. No.

JIM:

Yes! Don’t answer, you shouldn’t have answered. Or yes. You’re in love. If you must tell him what you think, say that! Tell him you’re in love!

MIKADO:

The music? I mean, what do you think of the music?

BOBIN:

Oh. Not much really, no.

Just in case, I twiddle a lock of hair. Just in case. Don’t feel like talking. Men on the pull in bars, very dull. Defensive play. Dull. And it’s too hot. That fan. Feel like kicking him into touch or sending him off but I don’t know which footbally option to go for.

MIKADO:

I sit up straight on my chair, but since I saw her, I’m collapsed inside, I’m like a house of cards of organs and emotions in a howling force ten gale. I want her, I want her, I want her, I gulp down my desire and my mint tea. Still thirsty though.

Push up my sleeves. Girls like my arms, that’s why. But they’re pushed up already so that move doesn’t really work.

Feel stupid. Sugar!

I like the old tunes, it’s like antiques, dust or black and white postcards, it’s reassuring to know those things were there and they’re still here.

That it’s possible to survive wear, age, the future.

BOBIN:

I understand. I go back to my book.

MIKADO:

And what a voice the guy’s got. It’s not like he’s singing in the bath, t...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Half-Title Page
• Title Page
• Contents
• Introduction
• Till Death
• Erwin Motors
• Alta Villa
• Bobin and Mikado