{"numero_id": "bm-bmtnaap-1922-06-01", "volume": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01", "ocr_sha256": "adf00bf147eba20edd702d93b5424acb4325215dab29c3664b24704d55de7f2f", "source_tei": "https://github.com/Princeton-CDH/bluemountain-transcriptions/blob/main/periodicals/bmtnaap/issues/1922/06_01/bmtnaap_1922-06_01.tei.xml", "source_mets": "https://github.com/pulibrary/BlueMountain/blob/main/metadata/periodicals/bmtnaap/issues/1922/06_01/bmtnaap_1922-06_01.mets.xml", "url_numero": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01", "articles": [{"article_id": "bm-bmtnaap-1922-06-01-c002", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01#c002", "volume": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[183]", "page_fin": "[183]", "image_debut": 2, "image_fin": 2, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.2.2", "titre_corps": "Table of Contents", "titre_sommaire": "Table of Contents", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[183]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.2", "debut_caractere": 1247, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2072, "texte": "Cover Design — Ladiseaw Medges.\nThe Apoeeo of Veii.\nHymn from A Watermeeon Pavieion — Waeeace Stevens 185\nSix Characters in Search of an Author. Act. I, — Luigi Pirandeeeo 186\nA Last Word — Henry Beeeaman 205\nHedges — Henry Beeeaman 206\nJacques Lipchitz and My Portrait Bust — Jean Cocteau 207\nJean Cocteau — Lipchitz 208\nImprovisations — Conrad Aiken 210\nScuepture — Lipchitz 216\nMurder — Waedo Frank 220\nStars at Taeeapoosa — Waeeace Stevens 236\nConversations —S. Foster Damon . 236\nAee is one — Martin Armstrong 237\nThe Apoeeo of Veii — Edward Storer 238\nEtruscan Head • 241\nIf You Had Three Husbands — Gertrude Stein 242\nWaste — Loea Ridge 247\nPoems — Edward Storer 248\nThe Limbo of American Literature — Gorham B. Munson. 250\nDedicated to the Enemy — Gordon Craig 261\nMade in America — Mathew Josephson 266\nComment . 271"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaap-1922-06-01-c003", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01#c003", "volume": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[184]", "page_fin": "[184]", "image_debut": 3, "image_fin": 3, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.2.3", "titre_corps": "The Apollo of Veii", "titre_sommaire": "The Apollo of Veii", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[184]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 18, "texte": "THE APOLLO OF VEII"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaap-1922-06-01-c004", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01#c004", "volume": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "185", "page_fin": "185", "image_debut": 4, "image_fin": 4, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.2.4", "titre_corps": "Hymn from a Watermelon Pavilion", "titre_sommaire": "Hymn from a Watermelon Pavilion", "signature_source": "Wallace Stevens", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "185", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 619, "texte": "HYMN FROM A WATERMELON PAVILION\nWallace Stevens\nYou dweller in the dark cabin,\nTo whom the watermelon is always purple,\nWhose garden is wind and moon,\nOf the two dreams, night and day,\nWhat lover, what dreamer, would choose\nThe one obscured by sleep ?\nHere is the plantain by your door\nAnd the best cock of red feather\nThat crew before the clocks.\nA feme may come, leaf-green,\nWhose coining may give revel\nBeyond revelries of sleep,\nYes, and the blackbird spread its tail,\nSo that the sun may speckle,\nWhile it creaks hail.\nYou dweller in the dark cabin,\nRise, since rising will not waken,\nAnd hail, cry hail, cry hail."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaap-1922-06-01-c005", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01#c005", "volume": "bmtnaap_1922-06_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "186", "page_fin": "204", "image_debut": 5, "image_fin": 23, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.2.5", "titre_corps": "Six Characters in Search of an Author", "titre_sommaire": "Six Characters in Search of an Author", "signature_source": "Luigi Pirandello ; Edward Storer", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "186", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1391, "texte": "SIX CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHOR\n\nA Comedy in the Making\nACT I.\nCHARACTERS OF THE COMEDY IN THE MAKING:\nThe Father — The Mother — The Step-Daughter — The Son —\nThe Boy — The Chied — [The last two don't speak at all) Madame\nPace.\nACTORS OF THE COMPANY:\nThe Manager — Leading Lady — Leading Man — Second Lady\nLead — L'lng&nue — Juveniee Lead — Other Actors and Actresses —\nProperty Man — Prompter — Machinist — Manager's Secretary —\nDoor-keeper — Scene-shifters.\nDaytime. The Stage of a Theatre.\nN. B. The Comedy is without acts or scenes. The performance is interrupted once,\nwithout the curtain being lowered, when the manager and the chief character withdraw to ar-\nrange the scenario. A second interruption of the action takes place when, by mistake, the\nstage hand let the curtain down.\nNote\nThe spectators will find the curtain raised and the stage as it usually is during\nthe day time. It will be half dark and empty so that from, the beginning the public\nmay have the impression of an impromptu performance.\nPrompter's box and a small table and chair for the manager.\nTwo other small tables and several chairs scattered about as during re-\nhearsals.\nThe actors and actresses of the company enter from the back of the stage :\nfirst one, then another, then two together: nine or ten in all. They are about to\nrehearse a Pirandello play Mixing It Up. Some of the company move off to-"}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "187", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2312, "texte": "wards their dressing rooms. The prompter who has the « book » under his arm, is\nwaiting for the Manager in order to begin the rehearsal.\nThe actors and actresses, some standing, some sitting, chat and smoke. One\nperhaps reads a paper ; another cons his part.\nFinally, the Manager enters and goes to the table prepared for him. His\nsecretary brings him his mail, at which he glances. The prompter takes his seat,\nturns on a light, and opens the \" book\nThe Manager {throwing a letter down on the table). I can't see {to\nProperty Man). Let's have a little light please.\nProperty Man. Yes, Sir, yes, at once {a light comes down on to the\nstage).\nThe Manager {clapping his hands). Come along ! Come along ! Second\nact of \" Mixing it Up \" {sits down).\n{The actors and actresses go from the front of the stage to the wings, all except\nthe three who are to begin the rehearsal).\nThe Prompter {reading the Book). Leo Gala's house. A curious room\nserving as dining-room and study.\nThe Manager {to Property Man). Fix up the old red room.\nProperty Man (•noting it down). Red set. All right.\nThe Prompter {continuing to read from Book). Table already laid and writ-\ning desk with books and papers. Book-shelves. Exit rear to Leo's Bedroom.\nExit left to kitchen. Principal exit to right.\nThe Manager {energetically). Well, you understand. There is the principal\nexit. Here the kitchen. {Turning to actor who is to play the part of Socrates)\nYou make your entrances and exits here. {To Property Man) The baize\ndoors at the rear and curtains.\nProperty Man {noting it down). Right oh!\nPrompter (;reading as before). When the curtain rises, Leo Gala, dress-\ned in cook's cap and apron is busy beating an egg in a cup. Philip, also\ndressed as a cook, is beating another egg. Guido Venanzi is seated and listens.\nLeading Man {to Manager). Excuse me, but must I absolutely wear a\ncook's cap ?\nThe Manager {annoyed). I imagine so. It says so there anyway {point-\ning to Book).\nLeading Man. But it's ridiculous !\nThe Manager {jumping up in a rage). Ridiculous ! ridiculous ! Is it my\nfault if France won't send us any more good comedies, and we are reduced\nputting on Pirandello's works, where nobody understands anything, and\nwhere the author plays the fool with us all ? {The actors grin. The Manager\ngoes to Leading Man and shouts)."}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "188", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2592, "texte": "Yes sir, you put on the cook's cap and beat eggs. Do you suppose that\nwith all this egg-beating business you are on an ordinary stage ? Get that out\nof your head. You represent the shell of the eggs you are beating (Laughter\nand comments among the actors). Silence ! and listen to my explanations please.\n(to Leading Man). The empty form of reason without the fullness of instinct,\nwhich is blind. You stand for reason, your wife is instinct. It's a mixing up\nof the parts, according to which you who act your own part become the\npuppet of yourself. Do you understand ?\nIvEADiNG Man. I'm hanged if I do.\nThe Manager. Neither do I. But let's get on with it. It's sure to be a\nglorious failure anyway, (confidentially) But I say, please face three-quar-\nters Otherwise, what with the abstruseness of the dialogue, and the public\nthat won't be able to hear you, the whole thing will go to hell. Com.e on !\ncome on !\nPrompter. Pardon sir, may I get into my box ? There's a bit of a draught.\nThe Manager. Yes, yes.\nAt this point, the door-keeper has entered from the stage door and advances\ntowards the manager's table, taking off his braided cap. During this manoeuvre,\nthe Six Characters enter, and stop by the door at back of stage, so that when the door-\nkeeper is about to announce their coming to the Manager, they are already on the\nstage. A tenuous light surrounds them, almost as if irradiated by them — the faint\nbreath of their fantastic reality.\nThis light will disappear when they come forward towards the actors. They\npreserve, however, something of the dream lightness in which they seem almost\nsuspended, but this does not detract from the essential reality of their forms and\nexpressions.\nHe who is known as The Father is a man of about 50 : hair, thin at the temples,\nbut not bald, hair reddish in colour, and with thick moustaches, falling over his still\nfresh mouth, which often opens in an empty and uncertain smile. He is fattish,\npale; especially on his wide forehead. He has blue, oval-shaped eyes, very clear\nand piercing. Wears light trousers and a dark jacket. He is alternatively mell-\nifluous and violent in his manner.\nThe Mother seems crushed and terrified as if by an intolerable weight of\nshame and abasement. She is dressed in modest black and wears a thick widow s\nveil of crepe. When she lifts this, she reveals a wax-like face. She always keeps\n\\her eyes downcast.\nkj- The Step-Daughter, eighteen, is dashing, almost impudent, beautiful.\nKSfoe wears mourning too, but with great elegance. She shows contempt for the timid\nhalf-frightened manner of the wretched"}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "189", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2108, "texte": "Boy (14 years old), also dressed in black. On the other hand, she displays\na lively tenderness for her little sister\nThe Chjxd (about four) dressed in white, with a black silk sash at the\nwaist.\nThe Son (22) tall, severe in his attitude of contempt for The Father, super-\ncilious and indifferent to the Mother. He looks as if he had come on the stage against\nhis will.\nDoor-keeper [cap in hand). Excuse me, sir.\nThe Manager [rudely). Eh ? What is it ?\nDoor-keeper [timidly). These people are asking for you, sir.\nThe Manager [furious). I am rehearsing, and you know perfectly well\nno one's allowed to come in during rehearsals [turning to the Characters). Who\nare you please ? What do you want ?\nThe Father [coming forward a little, followed by the others who seem embar-\nrassed) . As a matter of fact . . . we have come here in search of an author . . .\nThe Manager [half angry, half amazed). An author ? What author ?\nThe Father. Any author, sir.\nThe Manager. But there's no author here. We are not rehearsing a\nnew piece.\nThe Step-Daughter [vivaciously). So much the better, so much the better.\nWe can be your new piece.\nAn Actor [coming forward from the others). Oh, do you hear that ?\nThe Father [to Step-Daughter). Yes, but if the author isn't here [to\nManager). Unless you would be willing .. .\nThe Manager. You are trying to be funny.\nThe Father. No, for Heaven's sake, what are you saying ? We bring\nyou a drama, sir.\nThe Step-Daughter. We may be your fortune.\nThe Manager. Will you oblige me by going away. ? We haven't time to\nwaste with mad people.\nThe Father [mellifluously). Oh Sir, you know well that life is full of in-\nfinite absurdities, which, strangely enough, do not even need to appear plausible\nsince they are true.\nThe Manager. What the devil is he talking about ? \"\nThe Father. I say that to reverse the ordinary process may well be\nconsidered a madness : that is to create credible situations, in order that they\nmay appear true. But permit me to observe that if this be madness, it is the\nthe sole raison d'etre of your profession gentlemen (The actors look hurt and per-\nplexed) ."}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "190", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2372, "texte": "The Manager [getting up and looking at him). So our profession seems to\nyou one worthy of madmen then ?\nThe Father. Well, to make seem true that which isn't true without\nany need, for a joke as it were .. . Isn't that your mission gentlemen : to\ngive life to fantastic characters on the stage ?\nThe Manager [interpreting the rising anger of the Company). But I would beg\nyou to believe, my dear Sir, that the profession of the comedian is a noble one.\nIf to-day, as things go, the playwrights give us stupid comedies to play and\npuppets to represent instead of men, remember we are proud to have given\nlife to immortal works here on these very boards (The actors, satisfied,\napplaud their Manager).\nThe Father [interrupting furiously). Exactly, perfectly, to living beings\nmore alive than those who breathe and wear clothes. Beings less real perhaps, but\ntruer. I agree with you entirely. [The actors look at one another in amaze-\nment) .\nThe Manager. But what do you mean ? Before you said .. .\nThe Father. No, excuse me, I meant it for you Sir, who were cry-\ning out that you had no time to lose with madmen, while no one better than\nyourself knows that nature uses the instrument of human fantasy in order to\npursue her high creative purpose.\nThe Manager. Very well. But where does all this take us ?\nThe Father. Nowhere. It is merely to show you that one is born\nto life in many forms, in many shapes, as tree, or as stone, as water,\nas butterfly, or as woman. So one may also be born a character in\na play.\nThe Manager [with feigned comic dismay). So you and these other friends\nof yours have been born characters ?\nThe Father. Exactly, and alive as you see [Manager and actors\nburst out laughing).\nThe Father [hurt). lam sorry you laugh, because we carry in us a drama,\nas you can guess from this woman here veiled in black.\nThe Manager [losing patience at last and almost indignant). Oh, chuck it!\nGet away please! Clear out of here! [to Property Man). For Heaven's\nsake turn them out!\nThe Father [resisting). No, no, look here, we .. .\nThe Manager [roaring). We come here to work you know.\nLeading Actor. One cannot let oneself be made such a fool of.\nThe Father [determined, coming forward). I at your incredu-\nlity, gentlemen. Are you not accustomed to see the characters created by an\nauthor spring to life in yourselves and face each other ? Just because there"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "191", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2210, "texte": "is no Book (pointing to the Prompter's box) which contains us, you refuse to be-\nlieve , . .\nThe Step-Daughter (advances towards Manager, smiling and coquettish).\nBelieve me, we are really six most interesting characters sir ; side-tracked\nhowever.\nThe Father. Yes, that is the word (to Manager all at once). In the sense,\nthat is, that the author who created us alive no longer wished or was no longer\nable materially to put us into a work of art. And this was a real crime sir,\nbecause he who has had the luck to be born a character can laugh even at\ndeath. He cannot die. The man, the writer, the instrument of the creation\nwill die, but his creation does not die. And to live for ever it does not need to\nhave extraordinary gifts or to be able to work wonders. Who was Sancho Panza ?\nWho was Don Abbondio ? Yet they live eternally because — live germs as\nthey .were — they had the fortune to find a fecundating matrix, a fantasy which\ncould raise and nourish them : make them live for ever. !\nThe Manager. That is quite all right. But what do you want here, all\nof you ?\nThe Father. We want to live.\nThe Manager (ironically). For Eternity?\nThe Father. No, sir, only for a moment in you.\nAn Actor. Just listen to him.\nLeading Lady. They want to live in us.\nJuvenile Lead (pointing to the Step-Daughter). I've no objection as\nfar as that one is concerned.\nThe Father. Look here ! look here ! The comedy has to be made.\n(to the Manager) But if you and your actors are willing, we can soon concert\nit among ourselves.\nThe Manager (annoyed). But what do you want to concert ? We\ndon't go in for concerts here. Here we play dramas and comedies !\nThe Father. Exactly. That is just why we have come to you.\nThe Manager. And where is the book ?\nThe Father. It is in us (The actors laugh). The drama is in us, and we\nare the drama. We are impatient to play it. Our inner passion drives us\non to this.\nThe Step-Daughter (disdainful, alluring, treacherous, full of impudence).\nMy passion, Sir, ah, if you only knew ! My passion for him ! (points to the\nFather and makes a pretence of embracing him. Then she breaks out into a loud\nlaugh).\nThe Father (angrily). Behave yourself ! And please don't laugh in that\nfashion."}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "192", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2475, "texte": "The Step-Daughter. With your permission, gentlemen, I who am a\ntwo months orphan, will show you how I can dance and sing.\n(Sings and then dances Prenez garde a Tchou-Thin-Tehou).\nLes chinois sont un peuple malin,\nDe Shangai a Pekin,\nlis ont mis des ecriteux partout :\nPrenez garde a Tchou-Thin-Tchou.\nActors and Actresses. Bravo ! Well done ! Tip-top !\nThe Manager. Silence ! This isn't a cafe concert you know (iturning\nto the Father in consternation). Is she mad ?\nThe Father. Mad ? No, she's worse-than mad.\nThe Step-Daughter (to Manager). Worse! worse! Listen! Stage this\ndrama for us at once ! Then you will see that at a certain moment I-when\nthis little darling here (takes the Child by the hand and leads xher to the Manager).\nIsn't she a dear? (Takes her up and kisses her). Darling! Darling! (puts\nher down again and adds feelingly). Well, when God suddenly takes this dear\nlittle child away from that poor mother there, and this imbecile here (seizing\nhold of the Boy roughly and pushing him forward) does the stupidest things,\nlike the fool he is, you will see me run away. Yes, gentlemen, I shall be\noff. But the moment hasn't arrived yet. After what has taken place between\nhim and me, (indicates the Father with a horrible wink), I can't remain any\nlonger in this society to have to witness the anguish of this mother here\nfor that fool. . . (indicates the Son). Look at him ! at him ! See how\nindifferent, how frigid he is because he is the legitimate son. He despises me,\ndespises him (pointing to the Boy) despises this here because ... we are\nbastards (goes to the Mother and embraces her). And he doesn't want to recog-\nnize her as his mother, she who is the common mother of us all. He looks\ndown upon her as if she were only the mother of us three bastards. Wretch !\n(She says all this this very rapidly, excitedly. At the word \" bastards ~ she raises\nher voice, and almost spits out the final \" wretch /). ~\nThe Mother (to the Manager, in anguish). In the name of these two lit-\ntle children, I beg you . . . (She grows faint and is about to fall). Oh God !\nThe Father (coming forward to support her as do some of the actors) ! Quick „\na chair, a chair for this poor widow !\nThe Actors. Is it true ? Has she really fainted ?\nThe Manager. Quick, a chair here !\n(One of the actors brings a chair, the others proffer assistance. The Mother\ntries to prevent the Father from lifting the veil which covers her face).\nThe Father. Iyook at her ! Iyook at her !"}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "193", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2358, "texte": "The Mother. No, no ; stop it please !\nThe Father (raising her veil). Let them see you !\nThe Mother (rising and covering her face with her hands, in desperation).\nI beg you Sir, to prevent this man from carrying out his plan which is loath-\nsome to me.\nThe Manager (dumbfounded). I don't understand at all. What is the\nsituation ? Is this lady your wife ? (to the Father).\nThe Father. Yes, gentlemen : my wife.\nThe Manager. But how can she be a widow if you are alive ? (The\nactors find relief for their astonishment in a loud laugh).\nThe Father. Don't laugh ! Don't laugh like that for Heaven's sake. Her\ndrama lies just here in this. She has had a lover,, a man who ought to\nbe here.\nThe Mother (with a cry). No ! No !\nThe Step-Daughter. Fortunately for her, he is dead. Two months\nago as I said. We are in mourning as you see.\nThe Father. He isn't here you see, not because he is dead. He isn't\nhere — look at her a moment and you will understand — because her drama\nisn't a drama of the love of two men for whom she was incapable of feeling\nanything excejjt possibly a little gratitude — not for me ; for the other. She\nisn't a woman, she is a mother, and her drama — powerful sir, I assure you —\nlies, as a matter of fact, all in these four children she has had by two men.\nThe Mother. I had them ? Have you got the courage to say that I\nwanted them ? It was his doing. It was he who gave me that other man,\nwho forced me to go away with him.\nThe Step-Daughter. It isn't true.\nThe Mother (startled). Not true, isn't it ?\nThe Step-Daughter. No, it isn't true, it just isn't true.\nThe Mother. And what can you know about it ?\nThe Step-Daughter. It isn't true. Don't believe it.(To Manager)\nDo you know why she says so ? For that fellow there (indicates the Son). She\ntortures herself, destroys herself on account of the neglect of that son there,\nand she wants him to believe that if she abandoned him when he was only\ntwo years old, it was because he (indicates the Father) made her do so.\nThe Mother (vigorously). He forced me to it, and I call God to witness\nit (to the Manager). Ask him (indicates husband) if it isn't true. Let him\nspeak ! You (to daughter) are not in a position to know anything about it.\nThe Step-Daughter. I know you lived in peace and happiness with\nmy father while he lived. Can you deny it ?\nThe Mother. No, I don't deny it .. ."}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "194", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2216, "texte": "The Step-Daughter. He was always full of affection and kindness for\nyou (to the Boy, angrily). Its true, isn tit ? Tell them ! Why don t\nyou speak, you little fool ?\nThe Mother. Leave the poor boy alone ! Why do you want to make\nme appear ungrateful, daughter ? I don't want to offend .your father. I have\nanswered him that I didn't abandon my house and my son through any fault\nof mine, nor from any wilful passion.\nThe Father. It is true. It was my doing.\nLeading Man (to the Company). What a spectacle !\nLeading Lady. We are the audience this time.\nJuvenile Lead. For once in a way.\nThe Manager (beginning to get really interested). Let s hear them out.\nListen !\nThe Son. Oh yes, you're going to hear a fine bit now. He will talk\nto you of the Demon of Experiment.\nThe Father. You are a cynical imbecile. I've told you so already a\nhundred times (to the Manager). He tries to make fun of me on account of\nthis expression which I have found to excuse myself with.\nThe Son (with disgust). Yes, phrases! phrases!\nThe Father. Phrases. Isn't everyone consoled when faced with a\ntrouble or fact he doesn't understand, by a word, some simple word which tells\nus nothing and yet calms us ?\nThe Step-Daughter. Even in the case of remorse. In fact especially\nthen.\nThe Father. Remorse. No, that isn't true. I've done more than use\nwords to quieten the remorse in me.\nThe Step-Daughter. Yes, there was a bit of money too. Yes, yes, a bit\nof money. There were the hundred lire he was about to offer me in payment,\ngentlemen . . . (sensation of horror among the actors).\nThe Son (to the Step-Daughter). This is vile.\nThe Step-Daughter. Vile ? There they were in a pale blue envelope on\na little mahogany table in the back of Madame Pace's shop. You know Madame\nPace — one of those ladies who attract poor girls of good family i their ate-\nliers, under the pretext of their selling robes et manteaux.\nThe Son. And he thinks he has bought the right to tyrannise over us all\nwith those hundred lire he was going to pay ; but which, fortunately — n°te \"this\ngentlemen — he had no chance of paying.\nThe Step-Daughter. It was a near thing, though, you know ! (laughs\nironically).\nThe Mother (protesting). Shame, my daughter, shame !"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "195", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2638, "texte": "The Step-Daughter. Shame indeed ! This is my revenge ! lam dying\nto live that scene ... The room ... I see it .. . Here is the window with\nthe mantles exposed, there the divan, the looking-glass, a screen, there in front\nof the window the little mahogany table with the blue envelope containing one\nhundred lire. I see it. I see it. I could take hold of it. . . But you, gentle-\nmen, you ought to turn your backs now : lam almost nude, you know. But\nI don't blush : I leave that to him (indicating Father).\nThe Manager. I don't understand this at all.\nThe Father. Naturally enough. I would ask you, Sir, to exercise your\nauthority a little here, and let me speak before you believe all she is trying\nto blame me with. lyet me explain.\nThe Step-Daughter. Ah yes, explain it in your own way.\nThe Father. But don't you see that the whole trouble lies here. In\nwords, words. Each one of us has within him a whole world of things, each man\nof us his own special world. And how can we ever come to an understanding if\nI putin the words I utter the sense and value of things as I see them, while\nyou who listen to me must inevitably translate them according to the concep-\ntion of things each one of you has within himself ? We think we understand\neach other, but we never really do. Iyook here ! This woman {indicating\nthe Mother) takes all my pity for her as a specially ferocious form of cruelty.\nThe Mother. But you drove me away.\nThe Father. Do you hear her ? I drove her away. She believes I\nreally sent her away.\nThe Mother. You know how to talk, and I dont, but believe me Sir\n(to Manager) after he had married me .. . who knows why ?. . . I was a poor\ninsignificant woman . . .\nThe Father. But, good Heavens ! it was just for your humility that\nI married you. I loved this simplicity in you (He stops when he sees she makes\nsigns to contradict him, opens his arms wide in sign of desperation, seeing how\nhopeless it is to make himself understood). You see she denies it. Her mental\ndeafness, believe me is phenomenal, the limit (touches his forehead) deaf, deaf,\nmentally deaf. She has plenty of feeling. Oh yes, a good heart for the children\nbut the brain, deaf, to the point of desperation.\nThe Step-Daughter. Yes, but ask him how his intelligence has helped us.\nThe Father. If we could see all the evil that may spring from good,\nwhat should we do ? (At this point the Leading Lady who is biting her lips\nwith rage at seeing the Leading Man flirting with the Step-Daughter, comes forward\nand says to the Manager).\nIvEAding IyADY. Excuse me, but are we going to rehearse today ?\nManager. Of course, of course; but let's hear them out."}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "196", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2293, "texte": "Juvenile IyEAD. This is something quite new.\nVlng&nue. Most interesting.\nLeading Yes, for the people who like that kind of thing (casts\na glance at Leading Man).\nThe Manager (to Father). You must please explain yourself quite clearly\n(sits down).\nThe Father. Very well then : listen. I had in my service a poor man, a\nclerk, a secretary of mine, full of devotion, who became friends with her (in-\ndicating the Mother). They understood one another, were kindred souls in fact,\nwithout, however, the least suspicion of any evil existing. They were incapable\neven of thinking of it.\nThe Step-Daughter. So he thought of it for them.\nThe Father. That's not true. I meant to do good to them and to myself,\nI confess, at the same time. Things had come to the point that I could not\nsay a word to either of them without their making a mute appeal, one to the\nother, with their eyes. I could see them silently asking each other how I was\nto be kept in countenance, how I was to be kept quiet. And this, believe\nme, was just about enough of itself to keep me in a constant rage, to exasperate\nme beyond measure.\nThe Manager. And why didn't you send him away then — this secretary\nof yours ?\nThe Father. Precisely what I did, Sir. And then I had to watch this\npoor woman drifting forlornly about the house like an animal without a master,\nlike an animal one has taken in out of pity.\nThe Mother. Ah yes .. . !\nThe Father (suddenly turning to the Mother). It's true about the son\nanyway, isn't it ?\nThe Mother. He took my son away from me first of all.\nThe Father. But not from cruelty. I did it so that he should grow up\nhealthy and strong by living in the country.\nThe Step-Daughter (pointing to him ironically). As one can see.\nThe Father (quickly). Is it my fault if he has grown up like this? I\nsent him to a wet nurse in the country, a peasant, as she did not seem to me\nstrong enough, though she is of humble origin. That was, anyway, the rea-\nson I married her. Unpleasant all this maybe, but how can it be helped?\nMy mistake possibly, but there we are ! All my life I have had these\nconfounded aspirations towards a certain moral sanity. (At this point the\nStep-Daughter bursts out into a noisy laugh). Oh, stop, it! Stop it! I can't\nstand it.\nThe Manager. Yes, please stop it, for Heaven's sake."}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "197", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2675, "texte": "The Step-Daughter. But imagine moral sanity from him if you please,\nthe client of certain ateliers like that of Madame Pace.\nThe Father. Fool ! That is the proof that lam a man ! This seem-\ning contradiction, gentlemen, is the strongest proof that I stand here a live\nman before you. Why, it is just for this very incongruity in my nature that\nI have had to suffer what I have. I could not live by the side of that woman\n(',indicating the Mother) any longer, but not so much for the boredom she inspired\nme with as for the pity I felt for her.\nThe Mother. And so he turned me out.\nThe Father. Well provided for. Yes, I sent her to that man, gentle-\nmen ... to let her go free of me.\nThe Mother. And to free himself.\nThe Father. Yes, I admit it. It was also a liberation for me. But\ngreat evil has come of it. I meant well when I did it, and I did it more for her\nsake than mine. I swear it (crosses his arms on his chest ; then turns suddenly\nto the Mother). Did I ever lose sight of you until that other man carried you\noff to another town like the angry fool he was ? And on account of my pure\ninterest in you . . . my pure interest, I repeat, that had 110 base motive in it.\nI watched with the tenderest concern the new family that grew up around\nher. She can bear witness to this (;points to the Step-Daughter).\nThe Step-Daughter. Oh yes, that's true enough. When I was a kiddie,\nso so high, you know, with plaits over my shoulders and knickers longer than\nmy skirts, I used to see him waiting outside the school for me to come out.\nHe came to see how I was growing up.\nThe Father. This is infamous, shameful.\nThe Step-Daughter. No. Why ?\nThe Father. Infamous ! infamous ! (then excitedly to Manager explain-\ning). After she (indicating Mother) went away, my house seemed suddenfy\nempty. She was my incubus, but she filled my house. I was like a dazed\nfly alone in the empty rooms. This boy heie (indicating the Son) was educated\naway from home, and when he came back, he seemed to me to be no more\nmine. With no mother to stand between him and me, he grew up entirely for\nhimself, on his own, apart, with no tie of intellect or affection binding him\nto me. And then — strange but true — I was driven by curiosity at first and\nthen by some tender sentiment towards her family which had come into being\nthrough my will. The thought of her began gradually to fill up the emptiness\nI felt all around me. I wanted to know if she were happy in living out the\nsimple daily duties of life. I wanted to think of her as fortunate and happy\nbecause far away from the complicated torments of my spirit. And so, to\nhave proof of this, I used to watch that child coming out of school."}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "198", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.17", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2662, "texte": "The Step-Daughter. Yes, yes. True. He used to follow me in the street\nand smiled at me, waved his hand like this. I would look at him with interest,\nwondering who he might be. I told my mother, who guessed at once (The\nMother agrees with a nod). Then she didn't want to send me to school for some\ndays, and when I finally went back, there he was again — looking so ridiculous\n— with a paper parcel in his hands. He came close to me, caressed me, and drew\nout a fine straw hat from the parcel with a bouquet of flowers — all for me.\nThe Manager. A bit discursive this you know.\nThe Son (Vnmg<3i?rlg delivery\nin zry city rn Und t-thanks i- Oar\n3,000 6?»hd£4 r^rusery{»iiv^# .. # ,\n75iE «f'Jkw%rk\" ?^'\n-785 PFm 724 -\n' t/^ew^or^\nODOOCDCDCDCDCDOtSIDDnDtSICDDDCDCDDDCDGDCDGDGDCOISIODCDCD\nCD CO\nCD CD\nCD (XI\n| Daniel Gallery |\nCO CD\nCO PAINTINGS BY MODERN CO\nCO CD\nCO CD\nAmerican and French Artists\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCO\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCO\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\ncd\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\n2 WEST 47™ STREET H\nCD\n§ NEW YORK CITY = {3}\nCD CD\nCD CD\nCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCD"}]}], "pages_ocr_originales": [{"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[183]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.2", "texte": "BROOM\nAn International Magazine of the Arts Published by Harold A. Loeb.\nEditor, Haroed A. Loeb. Associate Editor, Edward Storer. American Editor, Loea Ridge.\nJUNE, 1922\nAPPEARS MONTHLY\nvoe. 2, no 3.\nThe Editor of Broom will be pleased to consider rnss. submitted to him, but all mss. must\nbe accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelope. The Editor cannot hold himself respon-\nsible for loss of mss. in transit.\nMss. from Europe should be sent to the Rome office; mss. from America to the New\nYork office.\nThe price of Broom is :\nFor America, fifty cents the copy, and five dollars for a year's subscription. For Italy,\n10 lire the copy, and 100 lire for a year's subscription. For France, 6 francs the copy, and\n60 francs for a year's subscription. For Great Britain, 3/6 the cop}', and one pound and fifteen\nshillings for a year's subscription.\nThe contents of this issue are protected by copyright, January, 1922. Infringement of\nsame will be prosecuted.\nEntered as Second Class matter at the Post Office at New York, N. Y. April 22, 1922\nunder the Act of March 3, 1879.\n%\nHeadquarters, 68, Via Leccosa, Rome (9), Itaey.\nNew York Office, Three East Ninth Street.\nLondon Office, Cecie Paemer, Oakeey House, 15-18 Bloomsbury St., W. C. I.\n\nCover Design — Ladiseaw Medges.\nThe Apoeeo of Veii.\nHymn from A Watermeeon Pavieion — Waeeace Stevens 185\nSix Characters in Search of an Author. Act. I, — Luigi Pirandeeeo 186\nA Last Word — Henry Beeeaman 205\nHedges — Henry Beeeaman 206\nJacques Lipchitz and My Portrait Bust — Jean Cocteau 207\nJean Cocteau — Lipchitz 208\nImprovisations — Conrad Aiken 210\nScuepture — Lipchitz 216\nMurder — Waedo Frank 220\nStars at Taeeapoosa — Waeeace Stevens 236\nConversations —S. Foster Damon . 236\nAee is one — Martin Armstrong 237\nThe Apoeeo of Veii — Edward Storer 238\nEtruscan Head • 241\nIf You Had Three Husbands — Gertrude Stein 242\nWaste — Loea Ridge 247\nPoems — Edward Storer 248\nThe Limbo of American Literature — Gorham B. Munson. 250\nDedicated to the Enemy — Gordon Craig 261\nMade in America — Mathew Josephson 266\nComment . 271"}, {"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[184]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.3", "texte": "THE APOLLO OF VEII"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "185", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.4", "texte": "HYMN FROM A WATERMELON PAVILION\nWallace Stevens\nYou dweller in the dark cabin,\nTo whom the watermelon is always purple,\nWhose garden is wind and moon,\nOf the two dreams, night and day,\nWhat lover, what dreamer, would choose\nThe one obscured by sleep ?\nHere is the plantain by your door\nAnd the best cock of red feather\nThat crew before the clocks.\nA feme may come, leaf-green,\nWhose coining may give revel\nBeyond revelries of sleep,\nYes, and the blackbird spread its tail,\nSo that the sun may speckle,\nWhile it creaks hail.\nYou dweller in the dark cabin,\nRise, since rising will not waken,\nAnd hail, cry hail, cry hail."}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "186", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.5", "texte": "SIX CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHOR\n\nA Comedy in the Making\nACT I.\nCHARACTERS OF THE COMEDY IN THE MAKING:\nThe Father — The Mother — The Step-Daughter — The Son —\nThe Boy — The Chied — [The last two don't speak at all) Madame\nPace.\nACTORS OF THE COMPANY:\nThe Manager — Leading Lady — Leading Man — Second Lady\nLead — L'lng&nue — Juveniee Lead — Other Actors and Actresses —\nProperty Man — Prompter — Machinist — Manager's Secretary —\nDoor-keeper — Scene-shifters.\nDaytime. The Stage of a Theatre.\nN. B. The Comedy is without acts or scenes. The performance is interrupted once,\nwithout the curtain being lowered, when the manager and the chief character withdraw to ar-\nrange the scenario. A second interruption of the action takes place when, by mistake, the\nstage hand let the curtain down.\nNote\nThe spectators will find the curtain raised and the stage as it usually is during\nthe day time. It will be half dark and empty so that from, the beginning the public\nmay have the impression of an impromptu performance.\nPrompter's box and a small table and chair for the manager.\nTwo other small tables and several chairs scattered about as during re-\nhearsals.\nThe actors and actresses of the company enter from the back of the stage :\nfirst one, then another, then two together: nine or ten in all. They are about to\nrehearse a Pirandello play Mixing It Up. Some of the company move off to-"}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "187", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.6", "texte": "wards their dressing rooms. The prompter who has the « book » under his arm, is\nwaiting for the Manager in order to begin the rehearsal.\nThe actors and actresses, some standing, some sitting, chat and smoke. One\nperhaps reads a paper ; another cons his part.\nFinally, the Manager enters and goes to the table prepared for him. His\nsecretary brings him his mail, at which he glances. The prompter takes his seat,\nturns on a light, and opens the \" book\nThe Manager {throwing a letter down on the table). I can't see {to\nProperty Man). Let's have a little light please.\nProperty Man. Yes, Sir, yes, at once {a light comes down on to the\nstage).\nThe Manager {clapping his hands). Come along ! Come along ! Second\nact of \" Mixing it Up \" {sits down).\n{The actors and actresses go from the front of the stage to the wings, all except\nthe three who are to begin the rehearsal).\nThe Prompter {reading the Book). Leo Gala's house. A curious room\nserving as dining-room and study.\nThe Manager {to Property Man). Fix up the old red room.\nProperty Man (•noting it down). Red set. All right.\nThe Prompter {continuing to read from Book). Table already laid and writ-\ning desk with books and papers. Book-shelves. Exit rear to Leo's Bedroom.\nExit left to kitchen. Principal exit to right.\nThe Manager {energetically). Well, you understand. There is the principal\nexit. Here the kitchen. {Turning to actor who is to play the part of Socrates)\nYou make your entrances and exits here. {To Property Man) The baize\ndoors at the rear and curtains.\nProperty Man {noting it down). Right oh!\nPrompter (;reading as before). When the curtain rises, Leo Gala, dress-\ned in cook's cap and apron is busy beating an egg in a cup. Philip, also\ndressed as a cook, is beating another egg. Guido Venanzi is seated and listens.\nLeading Man {to Manager). Excuse me, but must I absolutely wear a\ncook's cap ?\nThe Manager {annoyed). I imagine so. It says so there anyway {point-\ning to Book).\nLeading Man. But it's ridiculous !\nThe Manager {jumping up in a rage). Ridiculous ! ridiculous ! Is it my\nfault if France won't send us any more good comedies, and we are reduced\nputting on Pirandello's works, where nobody understands anything, and\nwhere the author plays the fool with us all ? {The actors grin. The Manager\ngoes to Leading Man and shouts)."}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "188", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.7", "texte": "Yes sir, you put on the cook's cap and beat eggs. Do you suppose that\nwith all this egg-beating business you are on an ordinary stage ? Get that out\nof your head. You represent the shell of the eggs you are beating (Laughter\nand comments among the actors). Silence ! and listen to my explanations please.\n(to Leading Man). The empty form of reason without the fullness of instinct,\nwhich is blind. You stand for reason, your wife is instinct. It's a mixing up\nof the parts, according to which you who act your own part become the\npuppet of yourself. Do you understand ?\nIvEADiNG Man. I'm hanged if I do.\nThe Manager. Neither do I. But let's get on with it. It's sure to be a\nglorious failure anyway, (confidentially) But I say, please face three-quar-\nters Otherwise, what with the abstruseness of the dialogue, and the public\nthat won't be able to hear you, the whole thing will go to hell. Com.e on !\ncome on !\nPrompter. Pardon sir, may I get into my box ? There's a bit of a draught.\nThe Manager. Yes, yes.\nAt this point, the door-keeper has entered from the stage door and advances\ntowards the manager's table, taking off his braided cap. During this manoeuvre,\nthe Six Characters enter, and stop by the door at back of stage, so that when the door-\nkeeper is about to announce their coming to the Manager, they are already on the\nstage. A tenuous light surrounds them, almost as if irradiated by them — the faint\nbreath of their fantastic reality.\nThis light will disappear when they come forward towards the actors. They\npreserve, however, something of the dream lightness in which they seem almost\nsuspended, but this does not detract from the essential reality of their forms and\nexpressions.\nHe who is known as The Father is a man of about 50 : hair, thin at the temples,\nbut not bald, hair reddish in colour, and with thick moustaches, falling over his still\nfresh mouth, which often opens in an empty and uncertain smile. He is fattish,\npale; especially on his wide forehead. He has blue, oval-shaped eyes, very clear\nand piercing. Wears light trousers and a dark jacket. He is alternatively mell-\nifluous and violent in his manner.\nThe Mother seems crushed and terrified as if by an intolerable weight of\nshame and abasement. She is dressed in modest black and wears a thick widow s\nveil of crepe. When she lifts this, she reveals a wax-like face. She always keeps\n\\her eyes downcast.\nkj- The Step-Daughter, eighteen, is dashing, almost impudent, beautiful.\nKSfoe wears mourning too, but with great elegance. She shows contempt for the timid\nhalf-frightened manner of the wretched"}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "189", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.8", "texte": "Boy (14 years old), also dressed in black. On the other hand, she displays\na lively tenderness for her little sister\nThe Chjxd (about four) dressed in white, with a black silk sash at the\nwaist.\nThe Son (22) tall, severe in his attitude of contempt for The Father, super-\ncilious and indifferent to the Mother. He looks as if he had come on the stage against\nhis will.\nDoor-keeper [cap in hand). Excuse me, sir.\nThe Manager [rudely). Eh ? What is it ?\nDoor-keeper [timidly). These people are asking for you, sir.\nThe Manager [furious). I am rehearsing, and you know perfectly well\nno one's allowed to come in during rehearsals [turning to the Characters). Who\nare you please ? What do you want ?\nThe Father [coming forward a little, followed by the others who seem embar-\nrassed) . As a matter of fact . . . we have come here in search of an author . . .\nThe Manager [half angry, half amazed). An author ? What author ?\nThe Father. Any author, sir.\nThe Manager. But there's no author here. We are not rehearsing a\nnew piece.\nThe Step-Daughter [vivaciously). So much the better, so much the better.\nWe can be your new piece.\nAn Actor [coming forward from the others). Oh, do you hear that ?\nThe Father [to Step-Daughter). Yes, but if the author isn't here [to\nManager). Unless you would be willing .. .\nThe Manager. You are trying to be funny.\nThe Father. No, for Heaven's sake, what are you saying ? We bring\nyou a drama, sir.\nThe Step-Daughter. We may be your fortune.\nThe Manager. Will you oblige me by going away. ? We haven't time to\nwaste with mad people.\nThe Father [mellifluously). Oh Sir, you know well that life is full of in-\nfinite absurdities, which, strangely enough, do not even need to appear plausible\nsince they are true.\nThe Manager. What the devil is he talking about ? \"\nThe Father. I say that to reverse the ordinary process may well be\nconsidered a madness : that is to create credible situations, in order that they\nmay appear true. But permit me to observe that if this be madness, it is the\nthe sole raison d'etre of your profession gentlemen (The actors look hurt and per-\nplexed) ."}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "190", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.9", "texte": "The Manager [getting up and looking at him). So our profession seems to\nyou one worthy of madmen then ?\nThe Father. Well, to make seem true that which isn't true without\nany need, for a joke as it were .. . Isn't that your mission gentlemen : to\ngive life to fantastic characters on the stage ?\nThe Manager [interpreting the rising anger of the Company). But I would beg\nyou to believe, my dear Sir, that the profession of the comedian is a noble one.\nIf to-day, as things go, the playwrights give us stupid comedies to play and\npuppets to represent instead of men, remember we are proud to have given\nlife to immortal works here on these very boards (The actors, satisfied,\napplaud their Manager).\nThe Father [interrupting furiously). Exactly, perfectly, to living beings\nmore alive than those who breathe and wear clothes. Beings less real perhaps, but\ntruer. I agree with you entirely. [The actors look at one another in amaze-\nment) .\nThe Manager. But what do you mean ? Before you said .. .\nThe Father. No, excuse me, I meant it for you Sir, who were cry-\ning out that you had no time to lose with madmen, while no one better than\nyourself knows that nature uses the instrument of human fantasy in order to\npursue her high creative purpose.\nThe Manager. Very well. But where does all this take us ?\nThe Father. Nowhere. It is merely to show you that one is born\nto life in many forms, in many shapes, as tree, or as stone, as water,\nas butterfly, or as woman. So one may also be born a character in\na play.\nThe Manager [with feigned comic dismay). So you and these other friends\nof yours have been born characters ?\nThe Father. Exactly, and alive as you see [Manager and actors\nburst out laughing).\nThe Father [hurt). lam sorry you laugh, because we carry in us a drama,\nas you can guess from this woman here veiled in black.\nThe Manager [losing patience at last and almost indignant). Oh, chuck it!\nGet away please! Clear out of here! [to Property Man). For Heaven's\nsake turn them out!\nThe Father [resisting). No, no, look here, we .. .\nThe Manager [roaring). We come here to work you know.\nLeading Actor. One cannot let oneself be made such a fool of.\nThe Father [determined, coming forward). I at your incredu-\nlity, gentlemen. Are you not accustomed to see the characters created by an\nauthor spring to life in yourselves and face each other ? Just because there"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "191", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.10", "texte": "is no Book (pointing to the Prompter's box) which contains us, you refuse to be-\nlieve , . .\nThe Step-Daughter (advances towards Manager, smiling and coquettish).\nBelieve me, we are really six most interesting characters sir ; side-tracked\nhowever.\nThe Father. Yes, that is the word (to Manager all at once). In the sense,\nthat is, that the author who created us alive no longer wished or was no longer\nable materially to put us into a work of art. And this was a real crime sir,\nbecause he who has had the luck to be born a character can laugh even at\ndeath. He cannot die. The man, the writer, the instrument of the creation\nwill die, but his creation does not die. And to live for ever it does not need to\nhave extraordinary gifts or to be able to work wonders. Who was Sancho Panza ?\nWho was Don Abbondio ? Yet they live eternally because — live germs as\nthey .were — they had the fortune to find a fecundating matrix, a fantasy which\ncould raise and nourish them : make them live for ever. !\nThe Manager. That is quite all right. But what do you want here, all\nof you ?\nThe Father. We want to live.\nThe Manager (ironically). For Eternity?\nThe Father. No, sir, only for a moment in you.\nAn Actor. Just listen to him.\nLeading Lady. They want to live in us.\nJuvenile Lead (pointing to the Step-Daughter). I've no objection as\nfar as that one is concerned.\nThe Father. Look here ! look here ! The comedy has to be made.\n(to the Manager) But if you and your actors are willing, we can soon concert\nit among ourselves.\nThe Manager (annoyed). But what do you want to concert ? We\ndon't go in for concerts here. Here we play dramas and comedies !\nThe Father. Exactly. That is just why we have come to you.\nThe Manager. And where is the book ?\nThe Father. It is in us (The actors laugh). The drama is in us, and we\nare the drama. We are impatient to play it. Our inner passion drives us\non to this.\nThe Step-Daughter (disdainful, alluring, treacherous, full of impudence).\nMy passion, Sir, ah, if you only knew ! My passion for him ! (points to the\nFather and makes a pretence of embracing him. Then she breaks out into a loud\nlaugh).\nThe Father (angrily). Behave yourself ! And please don't laugh in that\nfashion."}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "192", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.11", "texte": "The Step-Daughter. With your permission, gentlemen, I who am a\ntwo months orphan, will show you how I can dance and sing.\n(Sings and then dances Prenez garde a Tchou-Thin-Tehou).\nLes chinois sont un peuple malin,\nDe Shangai a Pekin,\nlis ont mis des ecriteux partout :\nPrenez garde a Tchou-Thin-Tchou.\nActors and Actresses. Bravo ! Well done ! Tip-top !\nThe Manager. Silence ! This isn't a cafe concert you know (iturning\nto the Father in consternation). Is she mad ?\nThe Father. Mad ? No, she's worse-than mad.\nThe Step-Daughter (to Manager). Worse! worse! Listen! Stage this\ndrama for us at once ! Then you will see that at a certain moment I-when\nthis little darling here (takes the Child by the hand and leads xher to the Manager).\nIsn't she a dear? (Takes her up and kisses her). Darling! Darling! (puts\nher down again and adds feelingly). Well, when God suddenly takes this dear\nlittle child away from that poor mother there, and this imbecile here (seizing\nhold of the Boy roughly and pushing him forward) does the stupidest things,\nlike the fool he is, you will see me run away. Yes, gentlemen, I shall be\noff. But the moment hasn't arrived yet. After what has taken place between\nhim and me, (indicates the Father with a horrible wink), I can't remain any\nlonger in this society to have to witness the anguish of this mother here\nfor that fool. . . (indicates the Son). Look at him ! at him ! See how\nindifferent, how frigid he is because he is the legitimate son. He despises me,\ndespises him (pointing to the Boy) despises this here because ... we are\nbastards (goes to the Mother and embraces her). And he doesn't want to recog-\nnize her as his mother, she who is the common mother of us all. He looks\ndown upon her as if she were only the mother of us three bastards. Wretch !\n(She says all this this very rapidly, excitedly. At the word \" bastards ~ she raises\nher voice, and almost spits out the final \" wretch /). ~\nThe Mother (to the Manager, in anguish). In the name of these two lit-\ntle children, I beg you . . . (She grows faint and is about to fall). Oh God !\nThe Father (coming forward to support her as do some of the actors) ! Quick „\na chair, a chair for this poor widow !\nThe Actors. Is it true ? Has she really fainted ?\nThe Manager. Quick, a chair here !\n(One of the actors brings a chair, the others proffer assistance. The Mother\ntries to prevent the Father from lifting the veil which covers her face).\nThe Father. Iyook at her ! Iyook at her !"}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "193", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.12", "texte": "The Mother. No, no ; stop it please !\nThe Father (raising her veil). Let them see you !\nThe Mother (rising and covering her face with her hands, in desperation).\nI beg you Sir, to prevent this man from carrying out his plan which is loath-\nsome to me.\nThe Manager (dumbfounded). I don't understand at all. What is the\nsituation ? Is this lady your wife ? (to the Father).\nThe Father. Yes, gentlemen : my wife.\nThe Manager. But how can she be a widow if you are alive ? (The\nactors find relief for their astonishment in a loud laugh).\nThe Father. Don't laugh ! Don't laugh like that for Heaven's sake. Her\ndrama lies just here in this. She has had a lover,, a man who ought to\nbe here.\nThe Mother (with a cry). No ! No !\nThe Step-Daughter. Fortunately for her, he is dead. Two months\nago as I said. We are in mourning as you see.\nThe Father. He isn't here you see, not because he is dead. He isn't\nhere — look at her a moment and you will understand — because her drama\nisn't a drama of the love of two men for whom she was incapable of feeling\nanything excejjt possibly a little gratitude — not for me ; for the other. She\nisn't a woman, she is a mother, and her drama — powerful sir, I assure you —\nlies, as a matter of fact, all in these four children she has had by two men.\nThe Mother. I had them ? Have you got the courage to say that I\nwanted them ? It was his doing. It was he who gave me that other man,\nwho forced me to go away with him.\nThe Step-Daughter. It isn't true.\nThe Mother (startled). Not true, isn't it ?\nThe Step-Daughter. No, it isn't true, it just isn't true.\nThe Mother. And what can you know about it ?\nThe Step-Daughter. It isn't true. Don't believe it.(To Manager)\nDo you know why she says so ? For that fellow there (indicates the Son). She\ntortures herself, destroys herself on account of the neglect of that son there,\nand she wants him to believe that if she abandoned him when he was only\ntwo years old, it was because he (indicates the Father) made her do so.\nThe Mother (vigorously). He forced me to it, and I call God to witness\nit (to the Manager). Ask him (indicates husband) if it isn't true. Let him\nspeak ! You (to daughter) are not in a position to know anything about it.\nThe Step-Daughter. I know you lived in peace and happiness with\nmy father while he lived. Can you deny it ?\nThe Mother. No, I don't deny it .. ."}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "194", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.13", "texte": "The Step-Daughter. He was always full of affection and kindness for\nyou (to the Boy, angrily). Its true, isn tit ? Tell them ! Why don t\nyou speak, you little fool ?\nThe Mother. Leave the poor boy alone ! Why do you want to make\nme appear ungrateful, daughter ? I don't want to offend .your father. I have\nanswered him that I didn't abandon my house and my son through any fault\nof mine, nor from any wilful passion.\nThe Father. It is true. It was my doing.\nLeading Man (to the Company). What a spectacle !\nLeading Lady. We are the audience this time.\nJuvenile Lead. For once in a way.\nThe Manager (beginning to get really interested). Let s hear them out.\nListen !\nThe Son. Oh yes, you're going to hear a fine bit now. He will talk\nto you of the Demon of Experiment.\nThe Father. You are a cynical imbecile. I've told you so already a\nhundred times (to the Manager). He tries to make fun of me on account of\nthis expression which I have found to excuse myself with.\nThe Son (with disgust). Yes, phrases! phrases!\nThe Father. Phrases. Isn't everyone consoled when faced with a\ntrouble or fact he doesn't understand, by a word, some simple word which tells\nus nothing and yet calms us ?\nThe Step-Daughter. Even in the case of remorse. In fact especially\nthen.\nThe Father. Remorse. No, that isn't true. I've done more than use\nwords to quieten the remorse in me.\nThe Step-Daughter. Yes, there was a bit of money too. Yes, yes, a bit\nof money. There were the hundred lire he was about to offer me in payment,\ngentlemen . . . (sensation of horror among the actors).\nThe Son (to the Step-Daughter). This is vile.\nThe Step-Daughter. Vile ? There they were in a pale blue envelope on\na little mahogany table in the back of Madame Pace's shop. You know Madame\nPace — one of those ladies who attract poor girls of good family i their ate-\nliers, under the pretext of their selling robes et manteaux.\nThe Son. And he thinks he has bought the right to tyrannise over us all\nwith those hundred lire he was going to pay ; but which, fortunately — n°te \"this\ngentlemen — he had no chance of paying.\nThe Step-Daughter. It was a near thing, though, you know ! (laughs\nironically).\nThe Mother (protesting). Shame, my daughter, shame !"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "195", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.14", "texte": "The Step-Daughter. Shame indeed ! This is my revenge ! lam dying\nto live that scene ... The room ... I see it .. . Here is the window with\nthe mantles exposed, there the divan, the looking-glass, a screen, there in front\nof the window the little mahogany table with the blue envelope containing one\nhundred lire. I see it. I see it. I could take hold of it. . . But you, gentle-\nmen, you ought to turn your backs now : lam almost nude, you know. But\nI don't blush : I leave that to him (indicating Father).\nThe Manager. I don't understand this at all.\nThe Father. Naturally enough. I would ask you, Sir, to exercise your\nauthority a little here, and let me speak before you believe all she is trying\nto blame me with. lyet me explain.\nThe Step-Daughter. Ah yes, explain it in your own way.\nThe Father. But don't you see that the whole trouble lies here. In\nwords, words. Each one of us has within him a whole world of things, each man\nof us his own special world. And how can we ever come to an understanding if\nI putin the words I utter the sense and value of things as I see them, while\nyou who listen to me must inevitably translate them according to the concep-\ntion of things each one of you has within himself ? We think we understand\neach other, but we never really do. Iyook here ! This woman {indicating\nthe Mother) takes all my pity for her as a specially ferocious form of cruelty.\nThe Mother. But you drove me away.\nThe Father. Do you hear her ? I drove her away. She believes I\nreally sent her away.\nThe Mother. You know how to talk, and I dont, but believe me Sir\n(to Manager) after he had married me .. . who knows why ?. . . I was a poor\ninsignificant woman . . .\nThe Father. But, good Heavens ! it was just for your humility that\nI married you. I loved this simplicity in you (He stops when he sees she makes\nsigns to contradict him, opens his arms wide in sign of desperation, seeing how\nhopeless it is to make himself understood). You see she denies it. Her mental\ndeafness, believe me is phenomenal, the limit (touches his forehead) deaf, deaf,\nmentally deaf. She has plenty of feeling. Oh yes, a good heart for the children\nbut the brain, deaf, to the point of desperation.\nThe Step-Daughter. Yes, but ask him how his intelligence has helped us.\nThe Father. If we could see all the evil that may spring from good,\nwhat should we do ? (At this point the Leading Lady who is biting her lips\nwith rage at seeing the Leading Man flirting with the Step-Daughter, comes forward\nand says to the Manager).\nIvEAding IyADY. Excuse me, but are we going to rehearse today ?\nManager. Of course, of course; but let's hear them out."}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "196", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.15", "texte": "Juvenile IyEAD. This is something quite new.\nVlng&nue. Most interesting.\nLeading Yes, for the people who like that kind of thing (casts\na glance at Leading Man).\nThe Manager (to Father). You must please explain yourself quite clearly\n(sits down).\nThe Father. Very well then : listen. I had in my service a poor man, a\nclerk, a secretary of mine, full of devotion, who became friends with her (in-\ndicating the Mother). They understood one another, were kindred souls in fact,\nwithout, however, the least suspicion of any evil existing. They were incapable\neven of thinking of it.\nThe Step-Daughter. So he thought of it for them.\nThe Father. That's not true. I meant to do good to them and to myself,\nI confess, at the same time. Things had come to the point that I could not\nsay a word to either of them without their making a mute appeal, one to the\nother, with their eyes. I could see them silently asking each other how I was\nto be kept in countenance, how I was to be kept quiet. And this, believe\nme, was just about enough of itself to keep me in a constant rage, to exasperate\nme beyond measure.\nThe Manager. And why didn't you send him away then — this secretary\nof yours ?\nThe Father. Precisely what I did, Sir. And then I had to watch this\npoor woman drifting forlornly about the house like an animal without a master,\nlike an animal one has taken in out of pity.\nThe Mother. Ah yes .. . !\nThe Father (suddenly turning to the Mother). It's true about the son\nanyway, isn't it ?\nThe Mother. He took my son away from me first of all.\nThe Father. But not from cruelty. I did it so that he should grow up\nhealthy and strong by living in the country.\nThe Step-Daughter (pointing to him ironically). As one can see.\nThe Father (quickly). Is it my fault if he has grown up like this? I\nsent him to a wet nurse in the country, a peasant, as she did not seem to me\nstrong enough, though she is of humble origin. That was, anyway, the rea-\nson I married her. Unpleasant all this maybe, but how can it be helped?\nMy mistake possibly, but there we are ! All my life I have had these\nconfounded aspirations towards a certain moral sanity. (At this point the\nStep-Daughter bursts out into a noisy laugh). Oh, stop, it! Stop it! I can't\nstand it.\nThe Manager. Yes, please stop it, for Heaven's sake."}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "197", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.16", "texte": "The Step-Daughter. But imagine moral sanity from him if you please,\nthe client of certain ateliers like that of Madame Pace.\nThe Father. Fool ! That is the proof that lam a man ! This seem-\ning contradiction, gentlemen, is the strongest proof that I stand here a live\nman before you. Why, it is just for this very incongruity in my nature that\nI have had to suffer what I have. I could not live by the side of that woman\n(',indicating the Mother) any longer, but not so much for the boredom she inspired\nme with as for the pity I felt for her.\nThe Mother. And so he turned me out.\nThe Father. Well provided for. Yes, I sent her to that man, gentle-\nmen ... to let her go free of me.\nThe Mother. And to free himself.\nThe Father. Yes, I admit it. It was also a liberation for me. But\ngreat evil has come of it. I meant well when I did it, and I did it more for her\nsake than mine. I swear it (crosses his arms on his chest ; then turns suddenly\nto the Mother). Did I ever lose sight of you until that other man carried you\noff to another town like the angry fool he was ? And on account of my pure\ninterest in you . . . my pure interest, I repeat, that had 110 base motive in it.\nI watched with the tenderest concern the new family that grew up around\nher. She can bear witness to this (;points to the Step-Daughter).\nThe Step-Daughter. Oh yes, that's true enough. When I was a kiddie,\nso so high, you know, with plaits over my shoulders and knickers longer than\nmy skirts, I used to see him waiting outside the school for me to come out.\nHe came to see how I was growing up.\nThe Father. This is infamous, shameful.\nThe Step-Daughter. No. Why ?\nThe Father. Infamous ! infamous ! (then excitedly to Manager explain-\ning). After she (indicating Mother) went away, my house seemed suddenfy\nempty. She was my incubus, but she filled my house. I was like a dazed\nfly alone in the empty rooms. This boy heie (indicating the Son) was educated\naway from home, and when he came back, he seemed to me to be no more\nmine. With no mother to stand between him and me, he grew up entirely for\nhimself, on his own, apart, with no tie of intellect or affection binding him\nto me. And then — strange but true — I was driven by curiosity at first and\nthen by some tender sentiment towards her family which had come into being\nthrough my will. The thought of her began gradually to fill up the emptiness\nI felt all around me. I wanted to know if she were happy in living out the\nsimple daily duties of life. I wanted to think of her as fortunate and happy\nbecause far away from the complicated torments of my spirit. And so, to\nhave proof of this, I used to watch that child coming out of school."}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "198", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaap192206-01.1.17", "texte": "The Step-Daughter. Yes, yes. True. He used to follow me in the street\nand smiled at me, waved his hand like this. I would look at him with interest,\nwondering who he might be. I told my mother, who guessed at once (The\nMother agrees with a nod). Then she didn't want to send me to school for some\ndays, and when I finally went back, there he was again — looking so ridiculous\n— with a paper parcel in his hands. He came close to me, caressed me, and drew\nout a fine straw hat from the parcel with a bouquet of flowers — all for me.\nThe Manager. A bit discursive this you know.\nThe Son (Vnmg<3i?rlg delivery\nin zry city rn Und t-thanks i- Oar\n3,000 6?»hd£4 r^rusery{»iiv^# .. # ,\n75iE «f'Jkw%rk\" ?^'\n-785 PFm 724 -\n' t/^ew^or^\nODOOCDCDCDCDCDOtSIDDnDtSICDDDCDCDDDCDGDCDGDGDCOISIODCDCD\nCD CO\nCD CD\nCD (XI\n| Daniel Gallery |\nCO CD\nCO PAINTINGS BY MODERN CO\nCO CD\nCO CD\nAmerican and French Artists\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCO\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCO\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\ncd\nCD\nCD\nCD\nCD\n2 WEST 47™ STREET H\nCD\n§ NEW YORK CITY = {3}\nCD CD\nCD CD\nCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCDCD"}]}