play fifteen: love and information

Caryl in 1972 being oh so dreamy.
Caryl in 1972 being oh so dreamy.

Author: Caryl Churchill

Published: 2012

Synopsis: a series of vignettes that allow us to encounter over 100 characters as they struggle to negotiate intimacy in the face of our rapidly advancing world.

What moved me: I saw the New York Theatre Workshop production of this work at the beginning of 2014 and I was gobsmacked. I’d never seen Churchill onstage before and now here before me were maybe 50 scenes being played out, with a complete overhaul of the stage between each one. A swing-set, an airport, a bed. It unrolled with steadily increasing depth – like she was dipping her hand under somebody’s skin.

What I found shocking when I read the script was how little she has prescribed in this vision. No setting, no stage directions, no character delineation. Just her words.

play ten: thyestes

‘Tantalus’ [the progenitor of the House of Atreus] by Gioacchino Assereto (circa 1640s)

Author: Seneca

Translation: Caryl Churchill

Date: c.62 CE

Synopsis: Atreus is king of Mycenae and is intent on revenge against his brother Thyestes. Sons of Pelops, they were destined to take turns ruling the country and keeping the symbol of power, a ram with a golden fleece. However, while Atreus was king, Thyestes seduced his wife and together they stole the ram. Civil war ensued. Now Atreus is king again whilst Thyestes and his three sons are in exile. He lures his brother and nephews to his kingdom on the promise of peace and the offer of sharing his crown. Unbeknownst to Thyestes, Atreus murders the boys and cooks them (save their heads, hands, and feet) to serve to their father for the celebration feast. Revenge is realised when he reveals to the sated Thyestes the fate of his young sons.

What moved me: the economy of Churchill’s version has stripped back the slight floridness usually associated in my mind with much translation of classical tragedy. She exposes a perfectly-working muscle. Blunt. Fast. There is little hope of redemption. Seneca’s decision to end the play with the rotten Atreus, instead of the Chorus, is no accident.

An example of this bareness:

FURY: […]

Then there’ll be nothing

anger thinks forbidden,

brother terrifies

brother, father sons and

sons fathers, children’s

deaths are vile and their births

even worse. A wife

destroys her husband,

wars cross the sea to Troy,

the earth is watered with

blood and great leaders

are defeated by lust.

Rape’s a joke and love and

laws both fade away.

The sky’s not exempt. Why

are the stars shining?

do their flames still owe the

world glory? Let night

be something else. Let day

fall out of the sky.

So stir up your gods, call

hatred, carnage and

funerals, and fill the

whole house with Tantalus.

(Caryl Churchill, 1995)