The Brothers

Reza de Wet

• Editore: Oberon Books
• Anno: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781786821997
• Edizione: 1
• Argomento: Littérature
• Categoria: Théâtre africain

During a night-long vigil preceding the funeral of their brother Kostia, Anton and Aleksander Chekhov are drawn into an agonising and explosive confrontation with each other and with deeply hidden aspects of themselves. As the play unfolds, it becomes a searing portrayal of human misery and the redemptive power of the creative impulse.

ACT ONE

It is 11 o’clock at night. A priest can be heard chanting softly behind the closed bedroom door. ANTON writing almost ferociously at the table. He is dressed in a shirt and an elegant, well-fitting pair of pants which he wears with braces. He wears a pince-nez while he writes.

ANTON: (Muttering as he reads what he’s written.) ‘He begins to descend more slowly.’ No. (Makes a correction.) ‘More and more slowly...’

Clattering of crockery in the dining-room.

NATALIA: (Voice from the dining-room.) You can’t sleep with your head on the table. Wake up!

The sound of ALEKSANDER groaning loudly. ANTON lifts his head and listens.

And see what you’ve done. You’ve upset the gravy!

Sound of ALEKSANDER blowing his nose loudly.

Not on the napkin! What a pig you are!

ANTON chuckles.

(off.) And on top of it all, there’s borscht in your hair!

ALEKSANDER: (off. Growling.) Leave me alone!

NATALIA: (Hissing.) Suit yourself!

ANTON: (Chuckles again. opens a small notebook and writes in it. Muttering as he writes.) ‘And on top of it all, there’s borscht in your hair.’ (Closes the notebook and continues to write as before.)

Silence. While ANTON writes the priest is still chanting softly. After a few moments NATALIA appears in the dining-room door. She is wearing an ill-fitting black dress and carrying a tray containing a plate and a glass of tea. She seems nervous and ill at ease.

NATALIA: I’m not disturbing you, am I?

ANTON: Of course not. (Stops writing and takes off his pincenez.)

NATALIA: I’ve brought your food. You’ve hardly touched it. You left the table so suddenly. Can I put it here?

ANTON: Yes, that’s fine.

ANTON moves aside some papers and NATALIA puts the tray down on the table.

NATALIA: You need to eat after your long journey. (Short silence.) I’m sure Aleksander didn’t mean what he said to you. You know how...difficult he can be when he’s drunk.

ANTON: (Smiling.) And sober.

NATALIA: Eat while it’s still warm. Cold food tastes so horrible. (Irritably.) And you should open a window! (She lights candles.)

ANTON: The mosquitoes and the moths will come in. And the farm-cats. (Suddenly becoming disarmingly playful and charming.) While I was away a cat peed on one short story and half a vaudeville. Now cats are renowned for having extremely acute critical faculties. So, naturally I tore up all the pages and threw them away. If that sort of thing happens too often, I’m likely to become demoralized. (Short silence.) Don’t you think?

NATALIA: (Smiles. Nods. Suddenly weepy.) I feel so tired. Quite dizzy. Would you mind...if I sat down for a little?

ANTON: By all means.

NATALIA sits. Short silence. NATALIA gives a little shuddering sigh.

NATALIA: He gets drunk almost every night now. He shouts and screams and frightens the boys. And I get such headaches...and palpitations. Really...my nerves can hardly stand it.

ANTON: You’re too...refined dear Natalia. Always have been. You should be like me. I have no finer feelings at all. (Silent laugh.)

Short silence. ANTON looks down at his hands.

Has my mother gone to bed?

NATALIA: She wanted to wait for the old women from the village. I’ve just taken her up. She’s still weeping and she won’t undress.

ANTON: I can just see her. Lying on the counterpane wearing her stays, her dress and even those alarming little boots. By the way, which old women from the village?

NATALIA: The Lintvariovs sent them to keep a vigil all night. Professional mourners.

ANTON: (laughs.) Oh, my God!

NATALIA: I asked if I could do anything for her... To make her more comfortable and she said all she wanted was Aleksander’s boys to lie on either side of her. (Sound of breaking crockery from the dining-room.) Holy Mother of God! He’s breaking things! (Short silence. Tearful.) I’m at my wits’ end. I really am. (Short silence.) Poor retarded little boys. I try to be a mother to them.

Short silence. NATALIA pulls at her dress.

I must look so dreadful. I had to borrow this dress from the Lintvariovs. I never wear black, as you know. It’s ugly. I shouldn’t say that. They’ve really been very kind. And much too big for me. You know how slim I am. (Pause. Gives a little laugh.) Don’t you remember how you used to call me ‘my little skeleton’? (Pause.) Well... I’ve hardly put on any weight since then. In fact...I’m almost exactly the same. (Short silence.) I suppose I should go. You have work to do.

ANTON: (Graciously.) Not at all. Stay a bit and talk.

NATALIA: Thank you.

Short silence.

ANTON: I haven’t even congratulated you properly. A married woman at last!

NATALIA: How can you say that to me? As if you don’t know why I haven’t married before.

ANTON: I’m sorry. I was only joking. I didn’t mean anything by it.

NATALIA presses her palm over her eyes and starts crying softly.

Don’t cry. Please. It makes you look too apallingly like that small carthorse. Do you remember it? The mangy one that used to eat your marigolds so sadly.

NATALIA gives a watery smile then she sighs.

NATALIA: You must wonder why I married him.

ANTON: It’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s such a snappy dresser.

NATALIA: Oh, please be serious for once! Because you know how he treats me. You’ve seen for yourself. But... the fact is...he needs me. And those poor children need me. It’s important for me to feel needed, you know. I feel at least that I have some reason...to go on.

ANTON: Yes. I understand.

NATALIA: And after...you stopped wanting me...for a long time I felt so somehow...useless. Just a poor, useless woman growing older every day. Staring at her own haggard face in ...