(L'Etranger) The Outsider

Albert Camus, Ben Okri

• Editore: Oberon Books
• Anno: 2018
• ISBN:
  9781786826640
• Edizione: 1
• Argomento: Medios de comunicación y artes escénicas
• Categoria: Teatro

Camus' sparse parable about the human condition is one of the great stories of the 20th Century, here adapted for the stage by Booker prize winner Ben Okri. A faceless man who can no longer pretend, Mersault commits a senseless murder under the glare of the Algerian sun. On trial he feels distanced from proceedings, he is castigated for not expressing remorse, for not crying at his mother's funeral, and is forced to confront the hypocrisy and injustice of society. In an age where we are being increasingly told what to feel, The Outsider is a blast of uncompromising honesty. Albert Camus, French novelist, essayist, philosopher and Nobel laureate, was one of the most influential thinkers of the 20th Century. Ben Okri, author of The Famished Road, is one of contemporary literature's most important writers. This adaption brings them together for a rare dramatisation of one of modern literature's most celebrated works.

PART ONE

Act One

SCENE ONE

Total blackout on stage. The curtains are drawn and we see in the darkness the solitary figure of a man seated towards the back of the stage. We cannot make him out. He sits very still for a long time. There must be complete silence on the stage as this man sits in the dark looking at us. His form must be unclear. Everything is enveloped in an equal darkness.

Then the figure gets up and retreats further back into the darkness, so he can be seen less. But his form is still visible.

In another corner of the stage, even more veiled in darkness, sits a little old lady. She sits in a dim light. We see her briefly when the man first speaks, and then she is gone.

After about one minute of silence on stage, we hear the first sound. The man speaks. He speaks in a dry voice. It is plain, unaccented, almost dull, but not dull. It is a kind of monotone, a hypnotic, almost menacing monotone. It is a voice speaking to itself. It is not speaking or projecting in any way to the audience. The audience merely overhears.

MEURSAULT: Mother

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: …died…

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: …today.

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: Or was it…

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: …yesterday.

(Long pause.)

MEURSAULT: I can’t be certain.

(Pause.)

(The figure moves towards the audience. He takes one step only.)

MEURSAULT: I got a telegram from the home. ‘Mother deceased. Burial tomorrow. Distinguished sentiments…’

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: That doesn’t mean anything.

(Pause)

MEURSAULT: It could have been yesterday.

(Then blackout.)

(An office. A desk and a chair. MEURSAULT is standing next to the chair. His boss is sitting.)

MEURSAULT: (In the same dry monotone.) My mother passed away. She was in the old people’s home in Marengo. I’ll need two days off.

BOSS: Two days?

MEURSAULT: I’ll get the two o’clock bus and be there in the afternoon. I’ll keep vigil and will be back tomorrow night.

BOSS: Why two days?

MEURSAULT: It’s not my fault.

(The BOSS looks up at him in an odd way.)

MEURSAULT: (Half to the audience, half to himself.) Why did I say that? I shouldn’t have said that. He should have offered his condolences. Maybe he will when I am in mourning. After the funeral, it will all be more official.

(The scene changes. It is a restaurant. At least there are sounds of a restaurant all around him. People eating, talking, and cutlery clacking on plates. MEURSAULT stands there by himself. Many voices sound at him, talking at once.)

VOICE 1: Condolences, Meursault.

VOICE 2: It’s very sad, Meursault.

VOICE OF CELESTE: You only have one mother, Meursault.

(MEURSAULT does not react to any of the voices. His face is unexpressive. He nods curtly in different directions.)

(The scene changes again. In the half darkness we hear the sound of someone climbing stairs. There is a knock on a door. The door opens.)

MEURSAULT: Emmanuel, do you have a black tie?

EMMANUEL: You don’t have one?

MEURSAULT: No.

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: And do you have an armband? Your uncle just died, didn’t he?

(The scene changes to an old people’s home. We are in the interior. From out of the windows a furnace-like heat pours in. MEURSAULT meets the CARETAKER. The CARETAKER chatters incomprehensively, in a low murmur. The CARETAKER shows MEURSAULT into the DIRECTOR’s office. The DIRECTOR is sitting behind a table. He has the ribbon of the Legion of Honour on his lapel. He stands up.)

DIRECTOR: Meursault?

MEURSAULT: Yes.

DIRECTOR: Did you have a good journey?

MEURSAULT: I ran so as not to miss the bus. Because of the smell of gasoline and the glare of the sky, I slept almost the whole way.

(While he speaks the DIRECTOR is still holding his hand. Then he picks up a file.)

DIRECTOR: Madame Meursault came here three years ago. You were her only support.

MEURSAULT: I didn’t really…

DIRECTOR: You don’t have to justify yourself, dear child. I’ve read your mother’s file. You were unable to provide for her needs. She needed someone to look after her and you have a modest income. All things considered, she was happier here.

MEURSAULT: Yes, sir.

DIRECTOR: She had friends here, folks her own age. She could share things from the old days with them. You are young and it must have been hard for her with you.

MEURSAULT: (Half addressing the audience.) It was true. When she was at home with me, Mother used to spend her time following me with her eyes, not saying anything.

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: (To audience.) For the first few days she was at the home she cried a lot. But that was because she was not used to it. A few months later and she would have cried if she’d been taken out.

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: (To audience.) She was used to it.

(Pause.)

MEURSAULT: (To audience.) That’s partly why I didn’t go there much this year.

DIRECTOR: (To MEURSAULT.) I suppose you’d like to see your mother?

(MEURSAULT looks at the audience neutrally. The DIRECTOR gets up and walks across the stage slowly. MEURSAULT follows. They pass two people talking who stop and start up again when they go past. They come to a door.)

DIRECTOR: One last thing. It seems your mother often expressed a desire for a religious burial. I have arranged one.

MEURSAULT: Thank you.

(To audience.) While not an atheis...