Out of the Wings

Soledad (1921), Miguel de Unamuno y Jugo

Solitude : ACT ONE Scene One , ACT ONE Scene Two , ACT TWO Scene Three , ACT THREE Scene Three

Solitude, translated by Gwynneth Dowling

ACT ONE Scene One

Context:

This is the opening of the play. Agustin struggles to write, comparing the process to that of giving birth.

Sample text

SOFIA, SOLEDAD and AGUSTIN. AGUSTIN’s mother SOFIA and his wife SOLEDAD are busy at one end of the room. At the other, AGUSTIN sits at a desk, writing. On the desk sits a photo of his son. The rocking horse stands near SOLEDAD.
AGUSTIN:: It won’t come. It just won’t come!
SOLEDAD:: Can I help you? (To SOFIA.) Although it’d be better if he left all this … He’s only driving himself mad. He doesn’t sleep. He spends entire nights ranting and raving, then when he tries to sleep everything comes back to him. He turns on the light and writes like a madman. He notices nothing else. He can’t hear me, he can’t see me.
SOFIA:: That’s how he keeps himself busy. Since the tragedy all you do is make him sad, Soledad. You cast a shadow. Is it so bad that he looks for some joy and happiness through his writing?
SOLEDAD:: But what can I do?
SOFIA:: And then there’s that horse, that picture …
SOLEDAD:: Leave me alone, Sofia. As long as he doesn’t suffer any more …
SOFIA:: But he’s suffering because of you. At least let him have this small comfort.
SOLEDAD:: And me? What comforts me?
SOFIA:: Your comfort’s where it should be. With him, his plays, his art.
SOLEDAD:: His plays won’t give me back my …
SOFIA:: His work completes him. Makes him whole for you. And as a creator …
SOLEDAD:: He makes up stories!
SOFIA:: Stories are life, my dear!
AGUSTIN: (Gets up and starts pacing the room.): It’s on the tip of my tongue. It’s right in here! (Pointing at his head.) But I just can’t get it out! I can see it, hear it, feel it, touch it. I can feel its birth. In my mind it’s clear. Totally clear. But how to get it out there? How to drag it out of my head? How can it be separate … how can it be other … than me? Something that will carry me like I now carry it? I so want to see it. To see it … out of me … plump with life, bursting with it! Because until it’s out there and I see it out of me, I’m not alive.
SOLEDAD:: You mean … dead .
AGUSTIN:: It doesn’t matter. Everything that’s born is born to die.
SOLEDAD:: Better never to have been born!

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation Solitude by Gwynneth Dowling is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

ACT ONE Scene Two

Context:

Agustin’s lead actress Gloria has arrived. She learns that Agustin is writing a biblical play about Hagar, the slave girl who bore Abraham’s first son. Soledad is jealous of Gloria and, consequently, she is eager that her husband leave the theatre to go into politics.

Sample text

GLORIA:: Hagar? What’s that?
SOLEDAD:: That was a slave girl. One of Sarah’s, Abraham’s wife. Barren. So to have children she got her husband to have them in … that!
GLORIA:: That’s some tale.
SOFIA:: It’s from the Bible.
AGUSTIN:: Well, I don’t know. I don’t know. That play’s been in my head for ages, driving me crazy and if I don’t get it out … But my mind’s on other things, lately –Pablo keeps going on about me getting into politics.
GLORIA:: Politics?
SOFIA:: Yes. They want to lead my poor son into that frightful labyrinth … with no way out.
SOLEDAD:: And I think he would do very well. I’ve told you that before, Agustin. I think it’d be good – excellent even – if you got into politics. It’ll take your mind off things much better than the theatre. You’d really be doing something – not just pretending. Because those who say theatre is doing … huh. Theatre is the pretence of doing, its representation. Whereas politics, the political struggle …
AGUSTIN:: Do you really think so?
SOLEDAD:: You’ll be author and actor. Both at once!
GLORIA: (Aside.): And there’ll be no need for us …
SOLEDAD:: I want to see you triumph in politics.
GLORIA:: More than in the theatre?
SOLEDAD:: Of course! There’s no triumph in that.
SOFIA: (To Gloria.): In politics, you understand …
GLORIA: (To Sofia.): It’s jealousy. Unfounded suspicions.
AGUSTIN:: Yes Soledad! Politics is starting to sound attractive. It’s art, it’s theatre. It’s action. Action! Action! Action’s just what I need. And you, my dear, you’ll help me.

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation Solitude by Gwynneth Dowling is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

ACT TWO Scene Three

Context:

The theatre critic Enrique and politician Pablo have come to visit their friend Agustin, who is hiding in his house after his political career has gone terribly wrong. Agustin is greatly disillusioned by politics and blames his friends for his predicament.

Sample text

ENRIQUE:: But I’m not a politician.
AGUSTIN:: That’s even worse than if you were! Because my performance as one was so very, very amusing. My speeches were dramatic monologues … I was an actor …
ENRIQUE:: Of course.
AGUSTIN:: And since I performed so terrifically badly … it’s off to prison with me!
PABLO:: We’re here to stop that.
ENRIQUE:: Look, Agustin. Stop all this talk and let’s think practically about what’s happening now.
AGUSTIN:: Didn’t you tell me to get into comedy? And what’s funnier than the Master Peter’s puppet show I put on?[1] A farce! A tragic farce! A farcical tragedy! The puppet show!
ENRIQUE:: Now there’s no need to take it all so tragically.
PABLO:: That’s what I told him.
AGUSTIN:: That’s because the indignity of it all doesn’t upset you. Neither does the unfairness, the random injustice, or the despotism.
PABLO:: If you knew how to be careful you’d avoid …
AGUSTIN:: What? Just let them treat me like a puppet?

[1] A reference to a puppet show from Don Quijote de la Mancha.

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation Solitude by Gwynneth Dowling is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

ACT THREE Scene Three

Context:

Agustin has been released from prison. Pablo and Enrique visit him and discover that he is increasingly withdrawn and detached from reality.

Sample text

AGUSTIN: (Suddenly appearing from the right.): What’s all this you’re saying about lyrical drama, my friends?
PABLO:: Yes that’s right. We’re your friends.
AGUSTIN: (To Soledad.): But, who are these people? Who are they? Are they here for the funeral? Come to bury the madman, the obsessive?
SOLEDAD:: Come on, you know them.
AGUSTIN:: No, woman, I don’t know them. I don’t want to know them. I want them to leave me alone. In solitude with my Soledad.
SOLEDAD:: But your friends …
AGUSTIN:: My friends are here, inside of me. I made them. They’re my children, our children, Soledad, our children, but not ones of flesh and blood. Those are … those are my friends. Those … or the other ones? These ones? They don’t exist. They’re shadows, dreams. And I want to sleep without dreaming. To sleep in your lap, in your lap of flesh and blood. Come with me. And the rest of you can get ready for my funeral. What a crowd!
PABLO:: Agustin!
AGUSTIN:: Agustin? Agustin? Who’s this Agustin? Oh yes, the man you betrayed, denounced. The man who stepped up to the trenches while you and the rest – the crowd from the funeral – applauded! (Grabbing Pablo by the arms.) Do you recognise me?
PABLO:: Let go, man. You’ve an iron grip!
AGUSTIN:: Iron, eh? (Shaking him.) And you. Are you flesh and blood or made of straw? Are you a puppet from the show?
ENRIQUE:: Let him go, Agustin … (Freeing PABLO.) I’m …
AGUSTIN:: Ah! Is that you? So that’s you, is it? Are you, you?
ENRIQUE:: Yes, I’m me!
AGUSTIN:: Are you sure that you are you? Tell me, Sol, is it him? Is it Enrique? Are you sure that it’s him?
SOLEDAD:: Yes. It’s Enrique, your friend.
AGUSTIN:: My friend, my friend. The critic! So, what’s new? What’s the latest play, my friend? Whose creation? I said, who wrote it? Was it very successful? Was it greatly praised?

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