the good house
by Douglas Messerli
Stacey Levine Susan Moneymaker, Large and Small: A Ten-minute Play (Brooklyn, New
York: Belladonna Books, 2007
The “excitable” Moneymaker family—middle-aged Uncle, Aunt, Mother, and
Father—begin and end their minutes on stage discussing and observing their
young niece and daughter, Susan. Each member of this family is slightly
disappointed in Susan, particularly since she has not yet found a husband; yet,
as all doting families believe, she is beautiful and smart, a “magnificent
girl,” a student at “the top of her class.” She could become a veterinarian or
lecture in physics.
While the family “enjoys” breakfast—if you can describe their series of
near-meaningless non sequiturs as joyful—they recall events around and about
Susan, including Mother’s “loss of confidence” during her long-ago pregnancy by
peering into a tub of eels. But the friendly smile of a policeman has healed
her, and now she is strong, even though she hates the neighbors! At one moment
Susan, so declares the family’s ornery Grandfather, is fifteen, while others
claim that she is much older. Indeed, the Grandfather, the most comical figure
throughout, is generally not to be believed as he yells out several attacks
upon family members: “You pack of cretins! Get out of town!”
In their determination that Susan will marry rich and become
famous—presumably to help support them—there is something detestable about this
toasty and Tastee cake-chewing bunch, who when Susan does show up, declare just
what they’ve been up to:
mother: Susan? Oh, Susan Lynne Moneymaker! We’ve been
chatting
and
planning, do you know? We want so much for you,
angel.
What began as a droll conversation,
suddenly turns absurdly frightening as the family declare that she must marry
the milkman’s son, Lad, eventually throwing the two together on the couch,
where the couple seem to either fall asleep or into death:
aunt: Everyone, everyone, look at Susan and Lad!
mother: So still. They’re like angels, aren’t they?
father: Soon their life will begin.
aunt: I say it’s sweet!
Pause.
father: Why aren’t they moving?
Pause.
aunt: Could
they be dead?
Pause.
uncle: Oh-ho, give ‘em a minute, those young tigers. Their
lives’ll
begin in a just a moment, I’m telling you.
Only the Grandfather, in his memory of their life when they lived by the
river, near a “brilliant house”—wherein lay hanging bridges, birds in the
windows, and rooms that slightly sway— comprehends, so it seems, that the
family has abandoned something near paradise. “It was near our own home, all
right. Close enough. But then we had to move away, you pack of louses, and we
got farther way from the good house.”
Obviously, all that is left is a group of determined bourgeois voyeurs
to which the younger folk cannot even respond. If Susan is large in their
dreams, she is made small by their selfish behavior.
Los Angeles, January 22, 2013
Reprinted from USTheater, Opera, and Performance (January 2013).
*Levine notes that she also wrote a
radio play, “The Post Office,” performed in Seattle. “Susan Moneymaker” was
also performed in a Settle theater festival.
No comments:
Post a Comment