Anna in the Tropics (TCG Edition)

Nilo Cruz

• Editore: Theatre Communications Group
• Anno: 2003
• ISBN:
  9781559366069
• Argomento: Literature
• Categoria: American Drama

Winner of the 2003 Pulitizer Prize for Drama

... there are many kinds of light.
The light of fires. The light of stars.
The light that reflects off rivers.
Light that penetrates through cracks.
Then there’s the type of light that reflects off the skin.
—Nilo Cruz, Anna in the Tropics

This lush romantic drama depicts a family of cigar makers whose loves and lives are played out against the backdrop of America in the midst of the Depression. Set in Ybor City (Tampa) in 1930, Cruz imagines the catalytic effect the arrival of a new "lector" (who reads Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina to the workers as they toil in the cigar factory) has on a Cuban-American family. Cruz celebrates the search for identity in a new land.

"The words of Nilo Cruz waft from the stage like a scented breeze. They sparkle and prickle and swirl, enveloping those who listen in both specific place and time... and in timeless passions that touch us all. In Anna in the Tropics, the world premiere work he created for Coral Gables’ intimate New Theatre, Cruz claims his place as a storyteller of intricate craftsmanship and poetic power."— Miami Herald

Nilo Cruz is a young Cuban-American playwright whose work has been produced widely around the United States including the Public Theater (New York, NY), South Coast Repertory (Costa Mesa, CA), Magic Theatre (San Francisco, CA), Oregon Shakespeare Festival, McCarter Theater (Princeton, NJ) and New Theatre (Coral Gables, FL). His other plays include Night Train to Bolina, Two Sisters and a Piano, Hortensia and the Museum of Dreams, among others. Anna in the Tropics also won the Steinberg Award for Best New Play. Mr. Cruz teaches playwriting at Yale University and lives in New York City.

ACT TWO

SCENE 1

Darkness. Music.

As the lights start to come up, we hear the recorded voice of the lector narrating a passage from Anna Karenina.

JUAN JULIAN (Recorded voice):

Anna Karenina had stepped into a new life and she could not convey through words her sense of shame, rapture and horror, and she did not want to talk about it and profane this feeling through simple words. And as time passed by, the next day and the next, she still could not find the proper words to express the complexity of her feelings, and could not even find thoughts with which to reflect on all that was in her soul.

(Juan Julian and Conchita are at the factory making love. She is lying on top of a table, half naked, her skirt tucked up. He is there between her legs, shirtless and full of sweat. They have transgressed the limits of their bodies, and he now kisses her gently.)

I’d like to stop seeing you here.

CONCHITA: And where do you want to meet?

JUAN JULIAN: In my room where we could be—

CONCHITA: That would be impossible.

(They start dressing.)

JUAN JULIAN: Then we should meet in a hotel.

CONCHITA: Hotels are cold and impersonal like hospitals. JUAN JULIAN: Like hospitals?

CONCHITA: Yes. Every guest is looking for a remedy, whether it’s a temporary relief from the world or a temporary rest from life.

JUAN JULIAN (Touching her face playfully): Then we should meet in a hospital, because sometimes I detect sad trees in your eyes after we make love.

CONCHITA: Then I must have a terrible malady.

JUAN JULIAN: Yes, and I recommend that you buy a canary and hear it sing five minutes a day . . . (He starts kissing her neck)

CONCHITA: And what if I can’t find a canary?

JUAN JULIAN: Then you must come hear me sing when I take a shower.

(We hear people outside.)

CONCHITA: Go . . . Go . . . Someone’s coming . . . Go . . .

(We hear Cheché in an argument. Juan Julian takes his shirt and rushes out. Conchita fixes her dress and her hair, then runs to sit at her table.)

CHECHÉ: Wait . . . wait . . . You don’t let me finish!!! You don’t let me finish!!! That’s one of the problems that we have, I own shares in this factory and now that your husband . . .

(The cigar workers enter and gather around Cheché. Next to him is a large machine wrapped in paper.

There is a heated controversy over the machine. We hear the workers complaining.)

OFELIA: I’m the owner of the factory and I have the last word...

CHECHÉ: But Ofelia . . .

OFELIA: Someone go upstairs and call Santiago!

CHECHÉ: Ofelia . . . All I’m trying to say is that all these other companies are succeeding . . .

PALOMO: But, Cheché, that has nothing to do with machines . . . .

OFELIA: I don’t want to listen to this. He’s not the owner of this factory. Will someone call my husband!

(Cheché stands up on a chair and addresses the crowd:)

CHECHÉ: Just let me talk!!! Let’s back up here! I’m trying to make a point, and you don’t let me speak . . . MARELA: Let the man talk, Mamá!

CHECHÉ: Ofelia . . . Ofelia . . . All these other cigar companies have the leads. I can name them all: Caprichos, Entreactos, Petit Bouquet, Regalia de Salón, Coquetas, Conchas Finas . . . They all have the leads . . .

OFELIA: Bah! They don’t roll cigars like we do.

CHECHÉ: It doesn’t matter how they roll their cigars. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.

OFELIA: It matters to us.

dp n="55" folio="50" ?

CHECHÉ: Then we’re never going to get anywhere.

OFELIA: And who’s in a hurry to get anywhere? Are you going somewhere, Conchita?

CONCHITA: No.

OFELIA: Are you going somewhere, Palomo?

PALOMO: I wouldn’t mind going to the Canary Islands to see my grandma . . .

(Laughter from the crowd.)

OFELIA: In that case I want to go to Spain . . .

MARELA: And I’d like to go to Russia . . .

(Laughter from the crowd.
Juan Julian enters.)

CHECHÉ: I’m not joking. I’m talking about the modern world. Modernity. Progress. Advancement.

OFELIA: If working with machines means being modern then we’re not interested in the modern world.

(Applause from the workers.)

CONCHITA: Bravo!

CHECHÉ: Do you want to see our sales records? Do you want to see our records?

OFELIA: I don’t have to see the sales records. I know how much we sell and we’re not doing that badly.

CHECHÉ: How can we be doing well when we had to let go of two employees?

MARELA: One employee, Cheché. The other one was your wife and she left of her own accord.

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(Laughter from the workers.)

CHECHÉ: My point is that machines . . .

PALOMO: Machines are stealing our jobs.

MARELA: That’s right.

(The crowd is getting anxious.)

CHECHÉ: I’ve been given more shares in this factory. I’m—(He is interrupted) Wait a second. And from now on I’m going to set things straight. (Another interruption) Hold on! Do you want to know the problems we have with our factory? Do you want to know? We are stuck in time. And why are we stuck in time? We are operating in the same manner that we were twenty, thirty, fifty years ago . . . (Another interruption) Hold on . . . Hold on . . . And why are we stuck? We are stuck because we are not part of the new century. Because we are still rolling cigars the same way that Indians rolled them hundreds of years ago. I mean, we might as well wear feathers and walk half naked with bones in our noses. There are machines that do tobacco stuffing at the speed of light: bunching machines, stripping machines . . .

OFELIA: And with all those machines, do they have any workers left?

CHECHÉ: Are you kidding me! The workers operate the machines. The workers run the machines.

PALOMO: Leonardo over at the Aurora factory says . . .

CHECHÉ: Ah, Leonardo is a lector! What does he know about machines?

PALOMO: He doesn’t talk about machines like you do. But I can tell you what he says. He’s always talking about maintaining our ways. Our methods. The old process we use. What we brought with us from the island. (Raises his hands) We brought these to roll our cigars, so we don’t need an apparatus or whatever you want to call it . . .

(Assertive comments from the crowd.)

CHECHÉ: Leonardo is a lector. That’s why he doesn’t value machines. The lectors are being fired from all the factories, because nobody can hear them read over the sound of the machines. And that’s another thing I wanted to talk about. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not interested in giving any more money from my pocket, from my wages to listen to a lector read me romantic novels.

CONCHITA: It’s literature, Cheché.

(Palomo looks at his wife, then turns to look at Juan Julian.)

CHECHÉ: Literature, romance novels . . . It’s all the same to me . . .

MARELA: No. It’s not the same. We learn things. And the words he reads are like a breeze that breaks the monotony of this factory.

CHECHÉ: Well, some of these companies have done away . . .

JUAN JULIAN: Señor Chester, allow me to say something. My father used to say that t...