Siamese Twins

Griselda Gambaro, Gwen MacKeith

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2011
• Print ISBN: 9781849431477
• eBook ISBN: 9781849436465
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: British Drama

'I would like to, I would like to...cut the cord.'
First performed in 1967, this is an early, yet startling, brilliant work by the internationally acclaimed Argentine playwright Griselda Gambaro. In this absurd and forceful play, two brothers carry out a primal scene of envy, cruelty and torture. Ignacio wants to break free of his brother and move out of their shared house, but Lorenzo has other plans. Through a series of dark comedic scenes the absurd becomes a harrowing metaphor of the most pure and raw reality.

ACT TWO

SCENE 3

The same room, one or several days afterwards. A ladder against the wall, next to a brush with a long handle. The daylight comes in through the window. LORENZO is in the room, hammering the leg of a chair. Whistles, very happy. Finishes hammering, rests the chair on the floor. The chair wobbles and falls over.

LORENZO: (Happy.) Excellent! What skill! (As the chair falls over, he rests it against the wall. Straightaway he takes some newspapers and a big jar of glue and sticks newspapers over the windows. Light is blocked out little by little. LORENZO, disconcerted.) You can’t see anything…(Stumbles down the ladder, finds the electric light.) Anyway, I hate light. I’m fine on my own…I feel…fine! Perhaps I’m a healthy man and he makes me ill. But if he comes back… (Laughs.) I’ve got an idea, a magnificent idea! He’s not the brightest spark, but he’ll understand. Clear as day. (He pulls out an old dirty cardboard suitcase from under the bed. He opens it on top of the bed. Disgusted.) How filthy! Just as something to lend to him. It smells of schnitzel. (Looks through the room, lifts up a mattress and pulls out a pair of socks which he puts in the suitcase. He shakes a shoe until some more socks fall out, very dusty, tied in a knot, that he also puts into the suitcase. He does the same with a moth-eaten shirt which he takes out of a drawer.) What else has he got? A pair of trousers. Two pairs of trousers, he’s wearing one pair. (Looks in the drawers.) Where can they have got to? (With an exclamation of delight, he discovers them on the floor, under a scrubbing brush. He shakes them.) They’re damp. (He folds them, puts them inside the suitcase.) I’ll put the suitcase in the hallway; if he comes back, he’ll get the message. I don’t want to get involved. Someone who gets into trouble with the police, is not good to have too close. Or I could put the suitcase on the doorstep. If somebody steals it, too bad. (Closes the suitcase, strains to lift it, but the suitcase doesn’t weigh a thing and the effort he puts into lifting it is excessive. Disconcerted.) It doesn’t weigh a thing…! I’ll fill it with newspapers. He’ll see that I don’t wish him any ill. My things and your things. Good will starts from here. Too bad if yours don’t exist. Ignacio bought the newspapers. He can take them with him. (Fills the suitcase with the old newspapers, presses them down and closes it. Picks up the suitcase and sets it on the floor.) Now it’s heavy. (A silence.) I feel fine! (Breathes in and out deeply.) Two mattresses. I’ll join them together and… (Resolute.) I’ll start to look at women. (Gets up on the stool and opens the window. Leans half his body outside, takes a comb out of his pocket and starts combing his hair.) I’ll try my luck with the first one who comes along. Fat or thin, old or young. If I’m going to give it a go, I can’t be too choosy. (Giggling.) As long as she’s got all the essential bits! (Looks. Disgusted.) What about this one? Where did she come from? She’s a dried up old thing! It’s fine to let yourself go, but she’s got nothing going for her! (Turns back into the room, saying.) You see, what’s that all about Ignacio? (He stops short, furious.) It’s easier with two mattresses, he was cramping my style. (Looks out again.) What about this one? She’s a cow! If I pick her up, I’ll suffocate. And all caked in make-up! Gross! Imagine what her face would look like when she woke up in the morning! You’d be better off sleeping with a bogeyman! (Leans half his body outside the window, now he looks in the other direction and shouts.) Hey! You think you can get away with anything just because you’ve got nice tits? Fatso! (Laughs, but interrupts himself abruptly and closes the window, frightened.) Did she hear me? (Gets off the stool, goes towards the front door and locks it.) What bad luck! She was standing on the corner, to kiss that face… He was an ox!…(Laughing involuntarily.) Of course, the oxen with the cow! He he! I’ve got time. Today someone’s going to fall into my arms. Patience. Now I’m alone. The house is mine, the mattresses are mine. I’ll rent out this room and live off the rent. Women are gold diggers. (Opens a small gap in the window and spies. Relaxes and opens it completely, propping up his elbows on the window sill.) What a scarcity of women! Where are they all? But I’ve got all the ti…(Sees something and falls silent.) How is it possible? (Dumbstruck.) There is no such thing as security, you can’t trust anyone! (Closes the window in a hurry. Takes a few steps into the room, wringing his hands in a strange way, as if he was applauding, very nervous. Sees the suitcase, picks it up.) I’ll put the suitcase in the street, that way he’ll get the message…As clear as day. (Opens the door decisively. On the threshold is IGNACIO, the same look as before, only that he seems even more beaten up. LORENZO blushing, stammering.) Hi…

IGNACIO: (With a croaking voice.) Are you leaving?

LORENZO: (Stammering.) No…I was just carrying your… your…suitcase…

IGNACIO: Where to?

LORENZO: Where to?…I thought you were still…in the… (Retches.) I feel…bad…(IGNACIO meets LORENZO’s surprise by walking past him without looking at him, crosses the room and lies down on the bed. LORENZO also goes inside, sits on a chair next to the table. A silence. Taking the moral high ground.) What do you want me to talk to you about? (A silence. Loses his surety.) I feel…out of…sort… (Starts to tremble violently, it’s not put on, but he exaggerates. A silence. Suddenly.) Why is your voice like that?

IGNACIO: I caught a cold. It gave me a croaky voice.

LORENZO: How are you?

IGNACIO: Bad.

LORENZO: (Surprised.) Bad? Why? (Suspiciously.) I don’t recognize your voice. Are you Ignacio or did you send something else in your place? I wouldn’t put it past you. (He sits up in his chair and looks at him. Sociable.) How did they treat you?

IGNACIO: They replaced my tooth.

LORENZO: Did they? How nice of them! They were kind. They seemed very agreeable to me. And to you? Of course, throwing stones at a little boy doesn’t produce a good response in anybody, especially in those who have to look after them…

IGNACIO: It wasn’t about the stone.

LORENZO: (Enlivened by the conversation.) No? Oh, for the robbery of four million? (Smiles.) Did they believe it? It was a joke! The forms, the stamps, it was all already on the table.

IGNACIO: It wasn’t about that either. I struck them as… suspicious. (Sad and wounded.) Lorenzo, why did you do this to me?

LORENZO: (Making excuses for himself like a child.) What did I do to you? I didn’t do anything to you. You struck them as suspicious. That is to say…you didn’t come over friendly. All the same they could have…(Doesn’t want to laugh, but can’t contain himself.) That’s it! That’s what you’re saying! I seemed like the nice guy! That really cheers me up…to turn out to be nice! Me, the nice guy! (Laughs wildly while IGNACIO looks at him. He stops, little by little, diverting his gaze, conscious of IGNACIO looking at him, rests his elbows on the table and starts to scratch his head. A painful silence.)

IGNACIO: Lorenzo…

LORENZO: (Obliging.) Yes, yes, darling, at your service.

IGNACIO: Some day…I’m…I’m going to get you.

LORENZO: (Goes pale, wraps his hands around his sides.) Ignacio…I feel bad. I…I need you.

IGNACIO: Go to hell!

LORENZO: (Rests his face on the table and starts to cry.) I didn’t want to…do you damage… I...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Characters
• Acknowledgements
• Act One
• Act Two