Bliss

Fraser Grace

• Publisher: Methuen Drama
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN: 9781350346239
• eBook ISBN: 9781350346253
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

It's good to see you're alive. Good to know not all the ghosts in the streets are enemies... 1921. Russia. Winter. When Nikita returns home from the brutal civil war, he attempts to start a new life with his drunken father Mikhail and his new wife Lyuba, the feisty young girl he remembers from his school days. When Nikita fails to consummate his marriage – all the while aware that he is being haunted by a mysterious figure – escape is the only solution he can find. He finally emerges in a new town further along the Potudan River, only to be accused of an ambiguous crime against the Soviet State… Based on a short story by the Russian writer Andrey Platonov (1899-1951), Bliss is a kaleidoscope of hopes, dreams and realities, as the survivors of years of devastating war and political revolution search for their 'bliss' in post-war Soviet Russia. They quickly learn that a society needs time to recover from catastrophe, and that the future is only built by those who manage to accept their past. This edition of Bliss was published alongside the world premiere at the Finborough Theatre, London in May 2022.

Part One

One

Nikita is waiting in the street, late afternoon. He wears a greatcoat, but looks gaunt, his hair long and lank. A young woman approaches–Lyuba–poorly dressed, and even more gaunt than Nikita. Her shoes are tied up with string, and she carries a pile of books.

When Lyuba sees Nikita, she stops short.

Lyuba You.

Pause.

Nikita (prompting)Nikita.

Lyuba Nikita, of course.

Nikita You are Lyuba.

Lyuba I know.

Pause.

Lyuba How long have you been . . . (waiting)?

When did you get back, Nikita?

Nikita Yesterday. Today.

Lyuba Today. Now you’re here, in our street.

Nikita I had to register with the Commissariat, for the reserve. I kept walking.

He looks up at the house.

I came to this house before.

Courting the schoolteacher.

Lyuba ?

Nikita There was furniture. A wardrobe, a clock, cups, a piano . . .

Lyuba You courted my mother?

Beat.

Nikita Dad courted her. I was fourteen.

Lyuba Of course. Old Mikhail with his oiled hair.

And the young one, Nikita Firsov.

Nikita No point coming back after that. ‘They have nice things–what would we talk about?’

That was . . . (a long time ago).

Good day, comrade.

He makes to exit.

Lyuba Mother passed two winters ago. I tried to keep the piano, but I had to feed the stove.

Nikita I’m sorry for your trouble, Lyuba.

She nods acknowledgement.

Nikita I don’t miss the piano.

Smiles. Pause.

Lyuba Your father, is he . . .? Are you . . .

Nikita Both of us. Alive.

Lyuba Good. You came home to someone.

Beat.

Nikita We didn’t even know it was over. ‘Go back to whatever godforsaken places you come from.’ We had a smoke, said goodbyes. I started walking.

Now I am here, speaking to you.

Lyuba You walked all the way?

How did you know where to go?

Nikita I followed the river.

Lyuba It’s miles!

Nikita I kept to the river.

Lyuba You must have walked for weeks!

Beat.

You smell very badly, Nikita.

Pause.

Nikita What sort of life do you have, Lyuba? Have you a place, in the new world? A job . . .?

Lyuba I’m a student. (The books.) Medicine.

Nikita Ah. Pity.

Lyuba ?

Nikita No doctors needed now. Too late for the dead, the living are healed.

Beat.

Lyuba Are you?

Nikita puts on his cap.

Nikita It’s good to see you’re alive, Lyuba. Good to know not all the ghosts in the street are enemies.

Again, he makes to exit. She makes a decision.

Lyuba Come in, Nikita. Now you’re here.

See the house again.

Beat. She exits. He waits, takes his hat off again, sniffs himself, follows, the action continues as smoothly as possible, into . . .

Two

Lights up on Lyuba’s house.

A bed, a very tatty piano stool and downstage–a wood-burning stove. Somewhere a clock. Lyuba puts her books down on the bed, takes pins from her hair.

Lyuba How are you at lighting stoves? I use the small one now; that burns with a few sticks.

He sets about it. She feels the cold, and watches him.

Lyuba The cold’s like some guest you can’t get rid of.

The furniture came in useful that way. So much has gone!

There’s still the clock; that doesn’t work.

You need a knack with a stove like that.

Nikita We fixed a lot of things in the war. Roofs, fences–

The unit I was with, we built a whole bridge for a village in the Altai region.

The Whites fought for the old things. We knew it’s the future that counts.

(The stove.) You’re right, it’s tricky.

Lyuba Do you have food in your pockets, Nikita?

Nikita hasn’t any food.

Lyuba My friend Zhenya comes round in the evenings. She brings food from home, so I can think. Her father commands the division.

It’s nice to be talked to, to study.

I suppose she’s not coming.

Her eyes fall again on his pockets.

Lyuba No use thinking of food. I have to lie down. When I sleep for a while the pains pass over. That’s usually how I manage.

Will you stay, for a while, while I sleep?

You can keep the place warm, keep the stove lit, I can rest.

Would you do that for me, Nikita?

Beat.

N...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Bliss
• Contents
• Bliss
• Characters
• Prologue
• Part One
• Part Two
• Author’s note
• Acknowledgements
• eCopyright