Barker: Plays Three
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Barker: Plays Three

Claw; Ursula; He Stumbled; The Love of a Good Man

Howard Barker

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eBook - ePub

Barker: Plays Three

Claw; Ursula; He Stumbled; The Love of a Good Man

Howard Barker

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Includes the plays Claw, Ursula, He Stumbled and The Love of a Good Man The plays in this volume range over twenty years, beginning with Barker's first major work for the stage, Claw, a study of urban discontent and political impotence, developed over three stylistically contrasting acts. Its terrible conclusion marked the debut of a vivid dramatic imagination. In Ursula Barker's engagement with the pains of the past, and his way of reinvigorating ancient arguments reaches a high point in his treatment of the legend of St Ursula and the martyrdom of 11, 000 virgins, where the virtues of celibacy and marriage are set against the catastrophic passion of a woman described as a 'perfect liar'. Barker's scrutiny of the body and its complex meanings is never more intense than in He Stumbled, the tragedy of a celebrated anatomist whose last dissection becomes his own. The body as a site of political and personal investment is also at the heart of The Love of a Good Man, an early work set on the empty battlefields of the Great War, where the burial of the dead becomes a pretext for private ambition as well as national grief.

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Información

Editorial
Oberon Books
Año
2012
ISBN
9781849433631
Edición
1
Categoría
Littérature

HE STUMBLED

Characters

DOJA
an Anatomist
SUEDE
his Assistant
PIN
his Assistant
BERLIN
a Nun
LAYBACH
a Priest
TODD
a Courtier
BALDWIN
a Prince
TURNER
a Queen
NIXON
a Servant
FIRST / SECOND PRIESTS
a Chorus
TORTMANN
a King
Knights
A Crowd

He Stumbled

A high wall. The grieving of masses. A rising sun fingers the top. An aperture appears. A naked arm emerges and tips a pan of fluid onto the ground. It disappears again. The grieving continues. A second aperture opens, and a second arm tips a pan of fluid onto the ground. No sooner has it withdrawn than a low door opens in the wall. A novice, fugitive from the miasma of death, flings herself onto the stage. She gasps the fragrance of uncontaminated air. She is restored. Her hands explore the surface of the stone. A third aperture opens. A bowl of blood is flung down the wall. The novice, stiff with disgust, slowly draws up her clothes until they are gathered over her head. She maintains her posture as, at intervals, further containers splash dark fluids down the wall. A second door opens. A novice emerges, retching, his hand clasped to his mouth. He also inhales the morning air. He also recovers. His gaze falls on the motionless nakedness of the girl, pressed to the wall and flecked with visceral muck. He stares. He is inexorably drawn towards her. His hand reaches, withdraws, extends again. He touches her, at first tentative, then more confidently. She chooses not to welcome or deny him, but remains with her head covered, motionless. At the moment he flings up his cassock to take her, the intoxicated cries of a maddened crowd flood the stage. The novice drops his garment and turns his face to the wall. A mass of figures surges past, streaming banners and bawling. Their impetus blinds them to the two novices, who stand stock still. As their cries fade, a further pan of sickness cascades down the wall. The grieving continues. The youth peers sideways to see the girl in the identical posture she had adopted before the interruption. He tears up his garment, exposing his own nakedness, and goes to embrace the girl from behind. He is stopped in his rush by a single shout. Slowly, with a profound reluctance, he allows the robe to fall. He sits, and with an air of resignation, draws up his knees. Blood runs down the wall. A man enters, grey, powerful. He goes to the naked girl, and lifting her in his arms, carries her away. The youth stares fixedly ahead. At last he climbs to his feet, pulls his cowl over his head and returns through the little door to the death chamber. The sound of grief swells, and falls as the door is closed again. The running mourners pass in a frenzy. The girl, now covered by her cassock, returns and opens the door by which she entered. The sound of grief swells but is suddenly silenced. She freezes in her movement.
BERLIN: You’re God…
(The grey man inches onto the stage, adjusting his clothing…)
From now on…
(He looks at her…)
God’s you…
(She slips through the door. Immediately the other door opens. The grieving surges as a woman emerges, closes the door swiftly and leans against the wall, flattening her hands behind her.)
TODD: Still not over…
(A pan of fluid ca...

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