Dancing at Lughnasa (eBook)

Brian Friel (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2011 | 1. Auflage
128 Seiten
Faber & Faber (Verlag)
978-0-571-28896-0 (ISBN)

Infos

It is 1936 and harvest time in County Donegal. In a house just outside the village of Ballybeg live the five Mundy sisters, barely making ends meet, their ages ranging from twenty-six up to forty. The two male members of the household are brother Jack, a missionary priest, repatriated from Africa by his superiors after 25 years, and the seven-year-old child of the youngest sister. In depicting two days in the life of this menage, Brian Friel evokes not simply the interior landscape of a group of human beings trapped in their domestic situation, but the wider landscape, interior and exterior, Christian and pagan, of which they are a part.

Brian Friel (9 January 1929 - 2 October 2015) wrote thirty plays across six decades and is widely regarded as one of Ireland's greatest dramatists. He was a member of Aosdána, the society of Irish artists, the American Academy of Arts and Letters, the Irish Academy of Letters, and the Royal Society of Literature where he was made a Companion of Literature. He was awarded the Ulysses Medal by University College, Dublin. Plays include Hedda Gabler (after Ibsen), The Home Place, Performances, Three Plays After (Afterplay, The Bear, The Yalta Game), Uncle Vanya (after Chekhov), Give Me Your Answer Do!, Molly Sweeney (Winner of the New York Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Foreign Play), Wonderful Tennessee, A Month in the Country (after Turgenev), The London Vertigo (after Charles Macklin), Dancing at Lughnasa (Winner of 3 Tony Awards including Best Play, New York Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Play, Olivier Award for Best Play), Making History, The Communication Cord, American Welcome, Three Sisters (after Chekhov), Translations, Aristocrats (Winner of the Evening Standard Award for Best Play and New York Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Foreign Play), Faith Healer, Fathers and Sons, Living Quarters, Volunteers, The Freedom of the City, The Gentle Island, The Mundy Scheme, Crystal and Fox, Lovers: Winners and Losers, The Loves of Cass Maguire, and Philadelphia Here I Come!

Textauszug

ACT 1

When the play opens MICHAEL is standing downstage left in a pool of light. The rest of the stage is in darkness. Immediately MICHAEL begins speaking, slowly bring up the lights on the rest of the stage.

Around the stage and at a distance from MICHAEL the other characters stand motionless in formal tableau. MAGGIE is at the kitchen window (right). CHRIS is at the front door, KATE at extreme stage right. ROSE and GERRY sit on the garden seat. JACK stands beside ROSE. AGNES is upstage left. They hold these positions while MICHAEL talks to the audience.

MICHAEL: When I cast my mind back to that summer of 1936 different kinds of memories offer themselves to me. We got our first wireless set that summer – well, a sort of a set; and it obsessed us. And because it arrived as August was about to begin, my Aunt Maggie – she was the joker of the family – she suggested we give it a name. She wanted to call it Lugh* after the old Celtic God of the Harvest. Because in the old days August the First was Lá Lughnasa, the feast day of the pagan god, Lugh; and the days and weeks of harvesting that followed were called the Festival of Lughnasa. But Aunt Kate – she was a national schoolteacher and a very proper woman – she said it would be sinful to christen an inanimate object with any kind of name, not to talk of a pagan god. So we just called it Marconi because that was the name emblazoned on the set.
   And about three weeks before we got that wireless, my  mother’s brother, my Uncle Jack, came home from Africa  for the first time ever. For twenty-five years he had worked  in a leper colony there, in a remote village called Ryanga in  Uganda. The only time he ever left that village was for about  six months during World War One when he was chaplain to  the British army in East Africa. Then back to that grim hospice where he worked without a break for a further eighteen years. And now in his early fifties and in bad health he had come home to Ballybeg – as it turned out – to die.
   And when I cast my mind back to that summer of 1936, these two memories – of our first wireless and of Father Jack’s return – are always linked. So that when I recall my first shock at Jack’s appearance, shrunken and jaundiced with malaria, at the same time I remember my first delight, indeed my awe, at the sheer magic of that radio. And when I remember the kitchen throbbing with the beat of Irish dance music beamed to us all the way from Dublin, and my mother and her sisters suddenly catching hands and dancing a spontaneous step-dance and laughing – screaming! – like excited schoolgirls, at the same time I see that forlorn figure of Father Jack shuffling from room to room as if he were searching for something but couldn’t remember what. And even though I was only a child of seven at the time I know I had a sense of unease, some awareness of a widening breach between what seemed to be and what was, of things changing too quickly before my eyes, of becoming what they ought not to be. That may have been because Uncle Jack hadn’t turned out at all like the resplendent figure in my head. Or maybe because I had witnessed Marconi’s voodoo derange those kind, sensible women and transform them into shrieking strangers. Or maybe it was because during those Lughnasa weeks of 1936 we were visited on two occasions by my father, Gerry Evans, and for the first time in my life I had a chance to observe him.

The lighting changes. The kitchen and garden are now lit as for a  warm summer afternoon.
    MICHAEL, KATE, GERRY and FATHER JACK go off. The others busy themselves with their tasks. MAGGIE makes a mash for hens. AGNES knits gloves, ROSE carries a basket of turf into the kitchen and empties it into the large box beside the range. CHRIS irons at the kitchen table. They all work in silence. Then CHRIS stops ironing, goes to the tiny mirror on the wall and scrutinizes her face.

CHRIS: When are we going to get a decent mirror to see ourselves in?

MAGGIE: You can see enough to do you.

CHRIS: I’m going to throw this aul cracked thing out.

MAGGIE: Indeed you’re not, Chrissie. I’m the one that broke it and the only way to avoid seven years bad luck is to keep on using it.

CHRIS: You can see nothing in it.

AGNES: Except more and more wrinkles.

CHRIS: D’you know what I think I might do? I think I just might start wearing lipstick.

AGNES: Do you hear this, Maggie?

MAGGIE: Steady on, girl. Today it’s lipstick; tomorrow it’s the gin bottle.

CHRIS: I think I just might.

AGNES: As long as Kate’s not around. ‘Do you want to make a pagan of yourself?’

(CHRIS puts her face up close to the mirror and feels it.)

CHRIS: Far too pale. And the aul mousey hair. Need a bit of colour.

AGNES: What for?

CHRIS: What indeed. (She shrugs and goes back to her ironing. She holds up a surplice.) Make a nice dress that, wouldn’t it? … God forgive me …

(Work continues. Nobody speaks. Then suddenly and unexpectedly ROSE bursts into raucous song:)

ROSE: ‘Will you come to Abyssinia, will you come?

Bring your own cup and saucer and a bun …’

(As she sings the next two lines she dances – a gauche, graceless shuffle that defies the rhythm of the song.)

‘Mussolini will be there with his airplanes in the air,

Will you come to Abyssinia, will you come?’

Not bad, Maggie – eh?
(MAGGIE is trying to light a very short cigarette butt.)

MAGGIE: You should be on the stage, Rose.

(ROSE continues to shuffle and now holds up her apron skirt.)

ROSE: And not a bad bit of leg, Maggie – eh?

MAGGIE: Rose Mundy! Where’s your modesty!

(MAGGIE now hitches her own skirt even higher than Rose’s and does a similar shuffle.)
Is that not more like it?

ROSE: Good, Maggie – good – good! Look, Agnes, look!

AGNES: A right pair of pagans, the two of you.

ROSE: Turn on Marconi, Chrissie.

CHRIS: I’ve told you a dozen times: the battery’s dead.

ROSE: It is not. It went for me a while ago.

(She goes to the set and switches it on. There is a sudden, loud three-second blast of ‘The British ...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 15.12.2011
• Verlagsort: London
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Lyrik / Dramatik ► Dramatik / Theater
• Themenwelt: Kunst / Musik / Theater ► Film / TV
• Themenwelt: Kunst / Musik / Theater ► Theater / Ballett
• Themenwelt: Schulbuch / Wörterbuch
• Themenwelt: Geisteswissenschaften ► Sprach- / Literaturwissenschaft ► Anglistik / Amerikanistik
• Themenwelt: Geisteswissenschaften ► Sprach- / Literaturwissenschaft ► Literaturwissenschaft
• Themenwelt: Sozialwissenschaften ► Soziologie ► Mikrosoziologie
• Schlagworte: Brian Friel • Dancing • Dancing at Lughnasa • Dubliners • The Emigrants • The Lonely Londoners • Wuthering Heights
• ISBN-10: 0-571-28896-0 / 0571288960
• ISBN-13: 978-0-571-28896-0 / 9780571288960