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From Romania to France via America Novels „ La Traversee du Styx (Recrossing the
Styx) Plays: a Tragedy, a Comedy, a Farce &
a Highly Controversial Sequel „ Flush Game, or the Gospel According to
Henry Miller „ Beyond The Styx Nightingales DonÕt Sing |
BEYOND THE
STYX NIGHTINGALES DON'T SING ACT
I Radu's
grandparents' living room: sofa, dining table, chairs, radio, telephone,
stove, cooking utensils, bottles and jars on the shelves, etc.. The doors
lead to the entrance (back), guestroom (right) and Radu's room, which can be
seen downstage left (bed, old drawer, desk, cassette player, bookshelves,
etc.). Grandpa sits on the edge of the sofa. Grandma stands by
the door. Enter Radu, Simina, and Tudor. GRANDMA: (Cheerfully.)
Come in, my children. I'm glad you brought Tudor along. RADU: He had to come, otherwise I would have asked my
father to reserve him a little dungeon at the Securitate's Three-Rat Hotel. TUDOR: (Laughing.)
So, here I am—at the whims of Securitate. Happy Saint Mary, Auntie Ana. SIMINA: (Kissing cheeks with Grandma.) Too bad Granny cannot enjoy your Saint Mary feast.
My aunt in Timisoara kept her hostage over the holiday. GRANDMA: As long as you and Radu are around, I'm happy. TUDOR: (To Grandpa.)
Happy Saint Mar, teacher Alexe. SIMINA: (Kissing Grandpa's cheeks.) Dad, today his name is Alexeevich Trigorin. TUDOR: Why's that? SIMINA: Last night I lost my head over him. RADU: A starry performance, I tell you. She's already
polishing the firmament. GRANDPA: Congratulations. Keep their palms itching and
their tongues twitching. SIMINA: Thank you, my dear Alexeevich. (Kissing
Grandpa.) I just can't resist your charm. RADU: Grandpa, you're making me jealous. You just gobbled
up three whopping smackers and I none! GRANDPA: I must say I am still irresistible to women at
large and actresses at hand. GRANDMA: O God, listen to him! (They laugh.) TUDOR: (To Grandpa.)
Alexeevich Trigorin, I hope one of these days you'll come to see us at the
mines. No one has forgotten you. "How's teacher Alexe doing?" they
keep asking me. "Still making jokes about the Party?" GRANDPA: Tell them I'll see them as soon as they come up
with a Solidarnosc of their own. It's long overdue. TUDOR: (Sighing thoughtfully.) It sure is... but we're working on it. (He takes a letter from his pocket.) God's given and the Securitate couldn't take away. Amen.
Saint Marie greetings from America! (When Tudor says America, Grandma is short of a heart
attack. She sits down.) TUDOR: Do you recognize these smiling faces? GRANDMA: O, dear God! It's Gelu with our grandchildren!
Alexe, look! (Wiping her tears.) Bless
you, Tudor, for the heavenly news! The Almighty couldn't have thought of a
better messenger. GRANDPA: (Contemptuously.) After so many years... Hard to believe the letter slipped through
the Colonel's fingers. TUDOR: A friend of Gelu visited the country and mailed it
to me, so it wouldn't fall in Vlad's hands. It says in the letter. RADU: What have we got here? Two cute punks, alias Mimi
and Mircea, cornuting Uncle Gelu and Aunt Cadia. (To Simina.) He looks like a heavyweight Elvis, don't you
think? TUDOR: You should have seen your father, Radu, when Gelu
sent word that they weren't coming back. The Colonel was pacing this room up
and down like a madman. GRANDPA: (Sighing.) And he has remained one ever since! SIMINA: I remember Gelu quite well. He always had his
pockets stuffed with all kinds of goodies. Always munching on something:
dried prunes, apple fritters, bonbons... GRANDPA: I bet you didn't strike candies with the Colonel. SIMINA: Mr. Colonel used to call me a nomad and shoo me
away. He forbade me to play with his pampered son. (Simina playfully ruffles Radu's hair.) That's why I hurt Radu any chance I got. It was my only
way to get back at him. RADU: I used to carry rocks in my pockets back then. SIMINA: But sometimes I just wanted to hug you. RADU: Sure. I remember the hugs you used to give me.
Digging your nails into my arms and boxing my ears. (Browsing the letter.)
Uncle Gelu hopes I don't follow in my
father's footsteps. (To Simina.) Did I ever tell you he used to throw me up in the
air? For a taste of flying, he put it. Once he overdid it and I hit the beam.
I had this cute bump for several days. Mother was furious. But I never told
her how I got it. SIMINA: I'm sure she believed it was my doing. She liked
me as much as your father. RADU: Grandpa, Uncle Gelu says that in America they break
kidney stones with ultrasound. It's something like saturation bombing, but
instead of bombs they use ultrasound. It sure kisses the knife good-by.
Knowing that you cannot benefit from such treatment makes me angry... SIMINA: (Pressing Grandpa's hand with affection.)
And me furious like Medea. But you're doing fine, my brave Alexeevich, aren't
you? GRANDPA: Of course, my dear. No stone can stand in my
way—be it as tiny as a flea or as big as a mountain goat. Piss on it! (They laugh.) RADU: (Showing Simina one of the pictures.) Nina Michaelovna, imagine you and me on Uncle's
boat. We would sail deep into the ocean... SIMINA: (Humming Eurhythmics.) Sweet dreams are made of this... RADU: Dreaming in our country is like flying under a
plexiglass sky. One never knows when one will crash into it. TUDOR: Hold it, mister. I get depressed hearing this kind
of talk. Dreaming is everything no matter who you are or where you are. The
present is grim, no doubt about it, but I have faith in the future. I have
faith in the young generation. When the time is ripe, the mean clouds will vanish
just like that. (Snapping his fingers.) And
so will the plexiglass sky! Communism will be nothing more than a hangover of
the drunken past. Just you wait and see. RADU: When do you think this hangover is going to hit us? TUDOR: Sooner than you think. SIMINA: (Kissing her father.) Dad, your vision sweeps me off my feet. GRANDMA: Radu, please read the letter aloud. You're
keeping us on hot coals. RADU: Sorry, Grandma. Is everyone listening? Good. Here I
go. "My dearest Mother and Father. I hope this letter finds you in good
healthÉ" (Car noise.) The Securitate! Grandma, hide the letter and the
pictures! Quick! (Panic and laughter breaks out. Grandma hides the
forbidden treasure under the mattress.) In an instant joy is trampled by the boot of law and
order... Everybody lower your blood pressure and stay cool and defiant. An
idea for the sake of diversion! Let's all listen to Radio Free Europe. (He turns the knob, but the radio doesn't come on.) Something's wrong with the radio. GRANDPA: Whack it! (Radu is about to follow Grandpa's advice when Vlad
walks in. He wears a civilian suit and carries a large bag in one hand and a
watermelon in the other.) VLAD: Happy St. Mary, everybody. EVERYBODY: (Radu directing the chorus.) Happy Saint Mary, dear Colonel. Happy Saint Mary
to you! VLAD: Don't be silly, son. RADU: Nice watermelon. Who's the unlucky fellow you confiscated
it from? VLAD: (Parking his burden on the table. To Grandma.)
Mother, I brought you enough cooking oil, sugar, and flour to last you till
Christmas. GRANDMA: Thank you, but we have plenty. VLAD: There is nothing wrong with having more. GRANDPA: (Waving the newspaper.)
There sure is, Colonel! Hoarding foodstuffs is illegal according to the new
decree. You better stop dreaming of basking in the sun for the next five
years. RADU: (Reaching for the phone.)
Sorry, Dad, you have broken the law, and I just can't help being a conscientious
citizen of the multilaterally developed Romania on its glorious path toward
communism. It's my duty to turn you in. VLAD: Very funny. TUDOR: Eh, no decree ever applies to everyone. RADU: And so we rest the case with a big smile. Dad's
above the law! Dad's above the law! VLAD: Stop playing the fool. That's an order! RADU: Jawhol, Herr Colonel! (Giving him the Nazi
salute.) Heil Ceausescu! (Everybody laughs, except Vlad.) VLAD: I'm warning you! RADU: Sorry, Dad. I thought it was funny. See, everybody's
laughing. VLAD: Since that silly revolution of yours I no longer
find your jokes funny. GRANDPA: What revolution? Is there going to be a
revolution? VLAD: Maybe in your dreams. GRANDPA: Don't be so sure, Colonel. VLAD: Trust me, old man. (To Radu.) If I weren't your father, you would've been
given the boot from aviation long ago. Thousands out there dream about being
in your place, and you act like you don't give a damn! GRANDMA: What did you do, Radu? TUDOR: Tell us. Revolutions are always exciting. VLAD: (To Tudor.)
Your daughter is to blame. He couldn't stand a weekend without seeing her.
She's got him by the family jewels! SIMINA: That's not proper talk in front of the ladies, Mr.
Colonel. TUDOR: (To Radu.)
Tell us what happened. RADU: The Commander canceled the general leave, so I led a
climb over the school's fence-- just to see you, my dearest Nina Michaelovna.
You should have seen the trucks they sent to round us up. We ran for cover in
the fields and people's courtyards. The officers couldn't trust their eyes. VLAD: And they called this act of hooliganism a revolution.
How silly! SIMINA: (Hugging Radu.) How nice! A revolution just for me! And you were so modest about it. VLAD: You better stop making a fool of him with your
overacting. Save that for the stage. RADU: Dad, you should have seen her dazzling debut last
night. "Here comes Satan, my mighty adversary!" One day, you'll be
standing in line for her autograph. VLAD: Is that so? I have another bone to pick with you.
How could you write that nonsense called The Captain Who Flew into the
Sunset and send it to Flame Magazine?
Only a week before we had a talk about Clipped Wings—the other nonsense you dedicated to those
expelled because of your silly revolution. RADU: Where else could I have sent it? They're the ones
boasting about publishing "works with a bite." VLAD: How could you be so naive to believe that they would
print a poem about an Air Force officer committing suicide at the state's
expense? What kind of example does he set by destroying state property? A
bullet is much cheaper than a multi-million-dollar jet. GRANDPA: That's got to be a great story. SIMINA: Can I read it? VLAD: Nobody's going to read that subversive nonsense! RADU: But Dad, you must understand that a real author's
duty is to tell the truth—even if he has to let down his countryÉ VLAD: Very funny. I want you to destroy every copy! RADU: But, Dad, that's the best hing I've ever written. My
soul stains every line. VLAD: I don't care! If you must write, don't write about
things you're not supposed to. Irony is a political offense. Satire is
treason. How many times do I have to remind you? This is serious business! (Vlad pounds on the table and the radio comes on. A
Romanian dissident is reading from his novel: "'Aren't you re-educated
yet, bourgeois scum?' raged the guardian as he grabbed me by the hair and
thrust my face into the floating excrement of the latrine. 'Can't you see the
star of communism shining through your window cell?'" Contemptuously to
Grandpa.) Radio Free Europe! (He pounds his fist again, and the radio goes off. To
Radu.) Take my advice or you'll end up in jail like (pointing
to the radio) that sucker, eating shit
three times a day! GRANDMA: Let's not quarrel anymore. It's Saint Mary Day. VLAD: Fine, Mother. (To Radu.) We'll continue our
discussion later. (To Grandpa.) Old man, how are you dealing with your rocks? GRANDPA: Much better than a communist deals with his conscience—if
he's got one. VLAD: Very funny. Let's have some wine. (He fills the glasses and
raises his.) Happy Saint Mary to all! Cheer up. It's a great end of
summer. Rain's plenty, the harvest looks promisingÉ What more can one wish
for? TUDOR: Would you like me to make up a list? VLAD: Don't burden yourself, Tudor. GRANDPA: (Sighing.) Another summer upon the same old sorrows... RADU: Colonel, since I've behaved like a naughty poet, you
don't mind me going to my room to repent my literary crimes. (To Simina.) Come
along, my dearest Nina Michaelovna. (Simina and Radu go to his room.) RADU: Dad is getting on my nerves. I can't stand him more
than ten minutes at a time. SIMINA: I don't blame you. RADU: (Flashing a cassette.) Are you ready for
this? SIMINA: What? RADU: Julio Iglesias' new album. It's yours. SIMINA: (Kissing Radu.) ThatÕs very sweet of you. Do you mind if I listen
to it? I'll use the headphones. RADU: Be my guest. I think I'll write something. I feel
inspired today. (He opens his notebook, but the conversation in the
other room draws his attention. Simina distracts him with her amorous spells
caused by Iglesias' music.) VLAD: Radu worries me. I am afraid he's very much like
you, old man. GRANDPA: Glad to hear it. But don't despair, Colonel, he
has something in common with you, too—writing. Well, his style and
subject matter bear no resemblance to yours, but so what? Still cranking up
articles for the big paper? VLAD: I haven't got time. Too much work to be done. TUDOR: Yes, indeed. Too many people to lock up. GRANDMA: Time for me to feed my beasts. If you need
anything you know where to find me. (Grandma goes out.) GRANDPA: Do you remember Vlad's lead article in The
Spark fifteen years ago? TUDOR: You mean the one written after Gelu's defection to
America? GRANDPA: Yes. "Who Are the New Traitors?" It
brought our Colonel notoriety and several promotions. Write another article
as phony and venomous as that one and they may give you a big star and
transfer you to the capital to kiss the dictator's ass. No better time for
it. VLAD: Old man, if you intend to bring Gelu into our
discussion, I'll smoke outside. We settled this matter a long time ago. GRANDPA: We never settled anything! VLAD: Let me know when you've exhausted the topic because
I have something awfully important to discuss with Tudor. TUDOR: Some other time, Colonel. I don't like mixing
business with pleasure on a day like this. VLAD: It will only take a minute. (To Grandpa.)
Just knock on the window, will you? GRANDPA: All right, I'll change the subject. What's the
point of talking if you're not listening? TUDOR: True. VLAD: Comrade Sorescu, I get the impression your fellow
miners are overtly excited about the things happening in Poland. GRANDPA: Just you wait and see! VLAD: Old man, do you mind? Please keep your pipe dreams
private. TUDOR: Is this an interrogation, Colonel? VLAD: Can't you see I am off-duty? TUDOR: Okay, you asked for it. You see my fellow workers'
spirit is far from being as blissful as the propaganda portrays. In a
nutshell, it is the same old story gone worse: poor working conditions,
unrealistic production plans, lack of food and heat in their homes, lack of
proper representation—the whole shebang. Yesterday, had I not cooled
down my men, they would have gutted the bread shack. Unlike you, we don't
have the privilege to shop in the party's stores. VLAD: It seems to me we're dealing with a baby volcano
putting on muscles like a fairy-tale lad. Are you talking about a union or a
party of your own? TUDOR: I can't discuss it. VLAD: Why not? TUDOR: Conflict of interest. VLAD: Don't you worry, we'll find out exactly what's
cooking before the brat loses its temper. TUDOR: What are you going to do about it? VLAD: Just don't raise your head above the crowd. You know
the wisdom of the sword. TUDOR: Thanks for your concern. VLAD: YouÕre very welcome. IÕm thirsty. Let's have another
glass. (He refills the glasses.) Let's see, whose health shall we drink to? What about to
the health of our First Couple? They've done a good job putting Romania on
the map. Rumor has it Ceausescu and Nixon go bear hunting in the Carpathians.
GRANDPA: I wonÕt dedicate a dry fart to their health! TUDOR: To victory! VLAD: That's as good as useless. TUDOR: Open your eyes, Colonel! The bulldozer of history
will flatten you like an insect—if you don't watch out. People are
waking up from this nightmare. How much longer do you think we'll tolerate
being starved and frozen to death? Constantly being hammered with scientific
bullshit about eating habits, as if we were a nation of gluttons? Everybody
knows that our food is exported to pay for a bankrupt industry which the
inept couple has built in the name of Stalinism. RADU: (Opening the door.) Bravo, Tudor! A real
knock out! Dad, shall I call an ambulance? VLAD: (To Radu.)
Out! SIMINA: What was that about? RADU: Your father made a kick-ass speech and I just
couldn't help giving him two thumbs up. SIMINA: Give him my thumbs too. Would you scratch my back?
(Simina resumes listening to the tape. Radu scratches
her back, but his ears are glued to what is being said in the living room.) VLAD: I foresee lots of troubles, Tudor, if you go around
instigating treason. I warn you. TUDOR: I hate to disappoint you, Colonel, but I am not a
traitor. Let me tell you who the real traitors are. Those two clowns who have
brought the country to its knees! And, whether you like it or not, you're a
traitor yourself or preserving a despotic order that constantly points an
accusing finger and steals our bread along with our basic freedom! VLAD: Tudor, you're pushing your luck! GRANDPA: I couldn't have said it better myself, cher ami.
To Victory! (Grandma comes in) VLAD: Political debates always give me an appetite. (Checking
the pots on the stove.) Cabbage rolls,
goose soup, lamb chops in garlic dip... This beats any American dinner. A
cultural attach at the Romanian Embassy in Washington informed me that the
Americans stuff themselves with disgusting hotdogs made from assholes and
lips. Long live capitalism! TUDOR: I read somewhere that the inmates in a New England
prison rioted against being fed lobster all the time. When was the last time
you had lobster, Colonel? GRANDMA: (Knocking on Radu's door.) Feast time! RADU: We'll be right there, Grandma. (Radu places a kiss on Simina's nape. She takes the headphones
off.) Stuffing time. (They walk into the living room.) VLAD: (Taking a small tube from his pocket.) I've almost forgotten. Old man, I brought you the
best stuff the capitalist pigs' market has to offer for your kidneys. Your
rocks will vanish like magic. A friend of mine uses it. And the poor bastard
has a whole quarry! GRANDPA: Your stuff is chicken soup compared with what
they have in America. There they break stones with ultrasound. Beats magic. VLAD: How do you know? GRANDMA: Gelu says so in... (Grandma stops as thunderstruck. Vlad smells a rat.
Radu tries to save appearances by changing the subject.) RADU: Think we're gonna have a rainy season? TUDOR: That's what I heard on the radio. Maybe some floods
too. SIMINA: Wonderful. We can go inner tubing! GRANDPA: I wouldn't touch a weather report with a barge
pole. RADU: Dad, tell us about the time your car was swept off
the road and you had to scream for help. VLAD: (To Grandma.)
Where is the letter? RADU: What letter? TUDOR: Who said anything about a letter, Colonel? GRANDPA: He must have had nightmares about compromising letters. SIMINA: Mr. Colonel, let me rub the back of your head.
Your nightmares will vanish like magic – only if you promise that you
won't hand me over to the Inquisition. I am a good witch. VLAD: Mother, where is it? (Vlad sends searching glances around the living room.
As if remembering something, he raises the mattress and siezes the letter.) I'll keep this. TUDOR: (Snatching the letter from Vlad's hand.) You
can't, Colonel. It's not your property. VLAD: How dare you! TUDOR: As you can see my name is on the letter. Which
means it's mine and you cannot have it if I don't want you to. And I don't
want you to. Have I made myself clear, Colonel? VLAD: You know damn well that my brother's letters are
banned in this house! Which means I have the power to confiscate them! (Stretching
out his hand.) I want that letter! TUDOR: You cannot have it, Colonel, and that's final. VLAD: You'll regret it dearly! TUDOR: I'll take my chances. (They all give Tudor grateful smiles. Simina kisses her
father. Vlad is boiling with rage.) VLAD: Tudor, as far as I am concerned, I've never seen
that letter. Don't brag about it... I would hate to do you harm. Soon we're
going to become in-laws, whether we like it or not. Just look at them—a
pair of cooing pigeons on a telegraph wire. TUDOR: Sure, Colonel. Have it your way. VLAD: (Addressing everybody.) The letter doesn't exist. Right? (Blackout.) |