The Natural Cause (NHB Modern Plays)

Robert Holman

• Editorial: Nick Hern Books
• Año: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781788502313
• Categoría: Literatur
• Categoría: Britisches Drama

'When I was a lad, little kiddie, I had this dream. And that was to burn down the world. Smash it up.'

A dark and disturbing portrait of mental illness, and its effects on a young family.

Barry and Mary are expecting a child. Barry is a bus conductor, but he'd like to drive the bus one day instead. His mother keeps telling Mary that Barry's not right, and that she should leave him. But Mary chooses to stick with Barry, for better or in fact for worse.

Robert Holman's play The Natural Cause was first performed at the Cockpit Theatre, London, in May 1974. Although written after his earlier play Mud, The Natural Cause was Holman's first full-length play to be staged.

ACT ONE

The play is an autopsy. It should take place in a mortuary on a white tiled floor.

Scene One

A mortuary.

A pair of white wellingtons by a hat stand. On the hat stand a full-length green plastic apron. A short distance away a small table. On the table; a clipboard and biro; a pair of rubber gloves; a Black and Decker drill; several scalpels. By the table a chair. The table and chair should be made of stainless steel.

The PATHOLOGIST enters.

PATHOLOGIST. Ladies, gentlemen.

He sits and consults the clipboard.

A pause.

The PATHOLOGIST is in his early thirties. He wears a dark suit. He speaks slowly, matter-of-factly, clinically. Calls.

Would you bring in the body.

TWO PORTERS wheel on the body of BARRY JACKSON. It is covered by a white sheet. They exit.

A light comes up on the body.

It is usual to consider the cause of death under three divisions. Firstly, the immediate cause, that is, why the patient died today and not tomorrow. Here a pathologist will often find incidental complications of the main disease such as broncho-pneumonia terminating a prolonged nervous illness.

The house lights dim to half.

Over speakers the voice of LYN JACKSON, BARRY’s mother. She speaks slowly.

The PATHOLOGIST proceeds to follow his usual routine. That is; he takes off his jacket and hangs it on the stand; he takes off his shoes and puts on the wellingtons; he rolls up his sleeves; he takes off his tie.

LYN. I remember, he was a normal baby. Bonny. Red cheeks. A Heinz baby, really. I entered him in a bonny baby competition once, at Margate it was, but we never won. Couldn’t control him really. Normal upbringing. He had a pet rabbit like every other little child.

A slight pause.

We had a rabbit in our backyard. It was the last, well, last year of his life. Well –

A slight pause.

I mean he forgot to feed his rabbit, like any other lad. Last year he was bad. We had to put up with him.

The PATHOLOGIST hangs his tie on the stand.

PATHOLOGIST. Secondly, the principal cause. (He stamps into his wellingtons.) That is, why the patient died now and not in ten years’ time. This is the most important in the chain of causes to get right, for it is upon these that civilised countries base their international statistics regarding causes of death. Certification must be accurate or this whole elaborate structure would be unsound.

Again LYN’s voice.

The PATHOLOGIST continues to prepare for the post-mortem; he consults the clipboard and notes something down; he stands, thinks for a moment; he places his shoes neatly by the stand; he puts on the apron.

LYN. He was very fond of animals, was Barry. Loved pet shops. When he was a boy.

A slight pause.

I remember, he would be about twelve, come home from school and tears were like flooding in his eyes. Turned out some hooligan had gone round the biology class and stabbed all the white mice to death with the point of a compass. Killed them, dead. Barry was all upset. Said he’d seen all these little mice lying in a heap on this table. Bound to be upsetting, that’s what I thought. His dad told him to grow up.

The PATHOLOGIST puts on the rubber gloves.

PATHOLOGIST. Thirdly, the contributory causes. Contributory causes must be looked at and examined for they help to explain deaths in which the first two findings seem inadequate.

Houselights dim to blackout.

Again LYN’s voice.

The PATHOLOGIST pulls the sheet from the body; he counts BARRY’s teeth, measures his head circumference and the length of his body. He writes on the clipboard.

A pause.

He goes to the table.

LYN. Don’t think he got on at school, really. Never seemed to.

A slight pause.

Last year – last two years really – last three, he would, you know, know –

A slight pause.

Funny. He used to stare at himself in the mirror, just stare, for hours, looking, looking at his face. Get steamed up over things. Like a kettle. Thump the wall with his fist and leave dirty patches on the wallpaper. Throw things. Bottles. Old Ever Ready batteries. I couldn’t do nothing. Mary couldn’t do nothing. I liked Mary. She was a nice girl.

The PATHOLOGIST picks up a scalpel from the table. He goes to the body.

A slight pause.

He moves to make the first incision.

Blackout.

Scene Two

Brighton’s beach.

The lights pull up to reveal MARY. She is bending down to pick up a small cricket bat.

MARY is twenty. She is small and has a white round face with dull red cheeks. She limps ...