Six Characters in Search of an Author, Luigi Pirandello [e ink ebook reader .txt] 📗

know.” I divine from her manner Indicating The Step-Daughter again. why it is they have come home. I had rather not say what I feel and think about it. I shouldn’t even care to confess to myself. No action can therefore be hoped for from me in this affair. Believe me, Mr. Manager, I am an “unrealized” character, dramatically speaking; and I find myself not at all at ease in their company. Leave me out of it, I beg you. The Father What? It is just because you are so that.⁠ ⁠… The Son How do you know what I am like? When did you ever bother your head about me? The Father I admit it. I admit it. But isn’t that a situation in itself? This aloofness of yours which is so cruel to me and to your mother, who returns home and sees you almost for the first time grown up, who doesn’t recognize you but knows you are her son.⁠ ⁠… Pointing out the The Mother to the The Manager. See, she’s crying! The Step-Daughter Angrily, stamping her foot. Like a fool! The Father Indicating The Step-Daughter. She can’t stand him you know. Then referring again to The Son. He says he doesn’t come into the affair, whereas he is really the hinge of the whole action. Look at that lad who is always clinging to his mother, frightened and humiliated. It is on account of this fellow here. Possibly his situation is the most painful of all. He feels himself a stranger more than the others. The poor little chap feels mortified, humiliated at being brought into a home out of charity as it were. In confidence.⁠—: He is the image of his father. Hardly talks at all. Humble and quiet. The Manager Oh, we’ll cut him out. You’ve no notion what a nuisance boys are on the stage.⁠ ⁠… The Father He disappears soon, you know. And the baby too. She is the first to vanish from the scene. The drama consists finally in this: when that mother re-enters my house, her family born outside of it, and shall we say superimposed on the original, ends with the death of the little girl, the tragedy of the boy and the flight of the elder daughter. It cannot go on, because it is foreign to its surroundings. So after much torment, we three remain: I, the mother, that son. Then, owing to the disappearance of that extraneous family, we too find ourselves strange to one another. We find we are living in an atmosphere of mortal desolation which is the revenge, as he Indicating The Son. scornfully said of the Demon of Experiment, that unfortunately hides in me. Thus, sir, you see when faith is lacking, it becomes impossible to create certain states of happiness, for we lack the necessary humility. Vaingloriously, we try to substitute ourselves for this faith, creating thus for the rest of the world a reality which we believe after their fashion, while, actually, it doesn’t exist. For each one of us has his own reality to be respected before God, even when it is harmful to one’s very self. The Manager There is something in what you say. I assure you all this interests me very much. I begin to think there’s the stuff for a drama in all this, and not a bad drama either. The Step-Daughter Coming forward. When you’ve got a character like me. The Father Shutting her up, all excited to learn the decision of The Manager. You be quiet! The Manager Reflecting, heedless of interruption. It’s new⁠ ⁠… hem⁠ ⁠… yes.⁠ ⁠… The Father Absolutely new! The Manager You’ve got a nerve though, I must say, to come here and fling it at me like this.⁠ ⁠… The Father You will understand, sir, born as we are for the stage.⁠ ⁠… The Manager Are you amateur actors then? The Father No. I say born for the stage, because.⁠ ⁠… The Manager Oh, nonsense. You’re an old hand, you know. The Father No sir, no. We act that role for which we have been cast, that role which we are given in life. And in my own case, passion itself, as usually happens, becomes a trifle theatrical when it is exalted. The Manager Well, well, that will do. But you see, without an author.⁠ ⁠… I could give you the address of an author if you like.⁠ ⁠… The Father No, no. Look here! You must be the author. The Manager I? What are you talking about? The Father Yes, you, you! Why not? The Manager Because I have never been an author: that’s why. The Father Then why not turn author now? Everybody does it. You don’t want any special qualities. Your task is made much easier by the fact that we are all here alive before you.⁠ ⁠… The Manager It won’t do. The Father What? When you see us live our drama.⁠ ⁠… The Manager Yes, that’s all right. But you want someone to write it. The Father No, no. Someone to take it down, possibly, while we play it, scene by scene! It will be enough to sketch it out at first, and then try it over. The Manager Well⁠ ⁠… I am almost tempted. It’s a bit of an idea. One might have a shot at it. The Father Of course. You’ll see what scenes will come out of it. I can give you one, at once.⁠ ⁠… The Manager By Jove, it tempts me. I’d like to have a go at it. Let’s try it out. Come with me to my office. Turning to the Actors. You are at liberty for a bit, but don’t stop out of the theatre for long. In a quarter of an hour, twenty minutes, all back here again! To The Father. We’ll see what can be done. Who knows if we don’t get something really extraordinary out of it? The Father There’s no doubt about it. They Indicating the Characters. had better come with us too, hadn’t they? The Manager Yes, yes. Come on! come on! Moves away and then