Sunday, November 19, 2006

The roadrunner and the coyote


Act VI, Scene Five of my ongoing play, THE FIRE IN BRADFORD.


Act VI Scene Five



Scene: The professor-turned cabdriver is booting his cab all over Nemarket ON, past the women dressing in the long military coats of the period, spinnakers before the cold wind. He is just driving around, muttering to himself,
singing dark songs to himself. His Celia has disappeared, disappeared into a city of three million people shortly after she rejected him.

Robert Johnson:
I followed her to the station. A suitcase in her hand...

BUT IT WAS NOT A SUITCASE. IT WAS A BLUE MUSTANG THAT SHE DROVE.


Professor (Inside his cab, talking to himself): Jesus. I feel like a North American Indian. The college has screwed me. Somebody is screwing my girlfriend. Somebody is fucking my wife. I was forced to sell my abode. Everybody's fucking me!

Professor (Starts to sing a Jack White song):


I'm gonna fight 'em off.
A Seven Nation Army couldn't hold me back
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time behind my back
And I'm talking to myself at night
Because I can't forget
Back and forth through my mind behind a cigarette
And the message from behind my eyes says leave it alone

Don't want to hear about it
Every single one's got a story to tell
From the Queen of England, to the gates of hell
And if I catch you coming back this way I'm going to serve it to you
I know that's not what you want,but that's what I'll do

And the feeling coming from my bones says find a home.


I'm going to Wichita
Far from this opera forever more
I'm going to work the straw
Making the sweat drip from every pore
And I'm bleeding and I'm bleeding right before my lord.
And the words are gonna bleed from me and I'll sing no more.
And the stains coming from my blood
Tell me go back home.

Professor: Ah, but where is home, poor Injun? I want to go to Wichita too!

THE PROFESSOR PARKS THE CAB. HE OPENS THE GLOVE COMPARTMENT, PULLS OUT A MICKEY BOTTLE AND TAKES A DEEP PULL.. HE NOTICES THAT A POWDER-BLUE MUSTANG SEEMS TO BE
CIRCLING HIM. IT IS CELIA DRIVING THE MUSTANG. SHE HAS HER DRIVER'S SIDE WINDOW DOWN AND SHE IS SMILING AT THE PROFESSOR.
THE PROFESSOR QUICKLY ROLLS DOWN HIS OWN WINDOW.

Professor (Yelling). Celia!
Mustang Sally!
Won't you turn your Mustang round!

BUT CELIA IS GONE IN A SWIRL OF SNOW.

Professor: "Aha, cried he, as he grabbed her wooden leg!"HE DOES NOT GIVE CHASE.

Professor (to himself, while reaching for a clipboard) This is going to take serious work. This is going to take a serious panty remover. This is going to take a poem. The poet never loses...(We hope). HE BEGINS WRITING:

He saw the teardrop on the rose
And again he saw the teardrop on a rose
And he knew he could never melt the teardrop
And he knew this was already the end.

So he kissed the face of the evening wife
As he had kissed it before, in all its varying forms
And again said hello to the precipice of silence
A precipice of silence
For his eighteen months of loving.

The Queen of Swords is crossed over
And all the king's horses and all the king's men
Are trying jo get her together again
Like me
To no avail.

Gigolo and Gigolet
This side of the lake of mutilation
Strike a match
And the hotel burns

There is only this path of silence
As we dump our gods
And become like them.

THE PROFFESSOR STARTS THE CAB, BRINGS IT TO A LOW CRAWL, DRIVES TO THE GO-STATION, AND THERE, FOR SURE, IS CELIA'S PARKED MUSTANG. SHE IS NOT INSIDE....WHAT WAS SHE DOING BACK IN TOWN, AND WITH WHOM?
THE PROFESSOR QUICKLY DISEMBARKS FROM HIS CAB AND TACKS THE TWO PAGES OF POEM TO
CELIA'S WINDSHIELD WIPER.

Professor (now back in his cab): Well, if that don't do it, nothin' will!


CURTAIN

............end ACT VI Scene V

16 comments:

Josie said...

Ivan, my goodness the professor is obsessed with Celia. You haven't told us what she has that a man is so obsessed with her. What is this mysterious thing?

I haven't been posting much today. Feeling sort of down and blue. It will pass.

Josie

ivan said...

I have tried reseaching this.
Jung: The Eternal Feminine-- Helen of Troy; The face that launched a thousand ships. She is everywhere.

Jung says it leads straight to the mother. "Sometimes the man's wife can defuse the situation."

Jung also says that a woman like Celia represents pure evil.

Femme Fatale?

I had a scene where the professor actually went to his former wife and asked her to defuse the situation. Comfortably ensconced, and living with another man, the former wife more or less wrote him off as a nut...there was still some lingering resentment.
I left the scene out.

I guess it's in the face.
The Virgin Mary?
Kali?
More like Marlene Dietrich in
"The Professor and the Blue Angel."

...This might be a bad time to get into archetypal dissections. Jung himself got involved with a female patient and Freud had to lie like hell to get Carl out of the impending social fallout. Jung was married.

Sorry you're feeling blue, Boo.
I see by your blog that someone has done you an emotional dirty.
I was going to comment, but I was drunk.
Words can sting, but when they are uttered by psychos, you have to try to ignore them, otherwise the psycho will escape from her cage and put you in.
Somehow my character of Celia represents this.

Josie said...

Hi, Ivan. I deleted that post on my blog. It sounded a bit too much like a "pity party", and that's not me. S--- happens. Nothing I can do about it. Some people are so crazy, you can understand why the ancients thought crazy people were inhabited by demons. Maybe they are. Who knows?

I'm going to go and eat lots of chocolate now.

Josie

ivan said...

Crazy people are highly manipulative and are indeed inhabited by demons!

I know this because I was once a
"committed writer."

Chocolate is so good. No nuts.

EA Monroe said...

Hi Ivan. Thought I better check in and see how the play is going and if you were into any mischief. That Celia confuses me too! Last night we watched a DVD special on Leonard Cohen, poet, songwriter and musician. He is one of the greats and he's a Canadian from Montreal.

Josie! I'm feeling bad that someone messed with your blog! I'll come over and cheer you up! ;-)

ivan said...

Hi Liz,
Only in Canada do we take a genius
like Leonard Cohen and shunt him for some pedestrian guy named George Bowering and make George Bowering
the poet laureate of Canada.

...Gotta watch it though, Bowering is from British Columbia. LOL.

Leonard Cohen is the real deal.
Truly great.
...I guess you know he predicted
911 five years before it happened.
It was in one of his poems, called, I think, "The Future."
In a recent magazine interview, Mr.Cohen said he wished he had never written that one...but it just shows the man's genius and ability to forsee.
In, finally! a celebration of Leonard Cohen by our CBC, he displayed a remarkable sense of humour: "I've pulled off a fraud on you guys. But thanks for citing me anyway. Heh.

EA Monroe said...

Good morning, Ivan. I'm hard at work on those #@$% press sheets. ;-)

The name of the video/DVD is Leonard Cohen, I'm Your Man. Excellent.

ivan said...

Good morning Liz.
Nice way to wake up.
I have been hitting other blogs besides our go-round.
Pandemonium.
Hisses. Spitting. Bitchslaps--the good stuff. Competition seems high because the stakes are so low.(Are there any stakes?). Unpublished divas emerge--they know everything!
Well-known lady writers are insulted and injured "This is MY blog, bitch"...Oh how the mice do play!...Or is it cats.
So it was nice to click onto this blog here to get a cheery g'mornin'.

I guess printing is pretty well templated these days...Don't have to put in so much time on set-ups.
How I long for the old days of linotupe and matrices and chases, the gay guy on the linotype trying to goose you as you passed by, the reading backwards and upside down, the smell of the ink. They say printer's ink runs through our blood--and you're right in the middle of the technology.

I'll have to pick up Mr. Cohen's
I'm Your Man.
I swear Mr. Cohen is about 74!
Wow. And so in work! One is inspired.

Thanks for the cheery greeting.
Don't work too hard,though I know you will.

Ivan

Josie said...

I'm probably the only Canadian I know who doesn't care for Leonard Cohen. He sort of depresses me. I know he's a genius and I wish I liked him, but I don't.

If they ever make a movie of his life, Dustin Hoffman could play the role...

Just ignore me, I think the rain is getting me down... arrgggh.

Josie

ivan said...

Hi Josie,
One of Leonard's poems is Spicebox of the Earth.
You gettin' a whiff of that ole spicebox in all that rain?
Betha smells damp.
There are people who think Mr. Cohen keeps on doin' that old Mesapotamian rag, but I do like him.
I was having trouble with my first novel while just a cob reporter for the Star, when what do I come across? Leonard Cohen's very first novel, The Favourite Game.
Must say it was high Canadian content. I was especially struck with the hero getting a Monica Lewinky in a canoe in Haliburton while loons went insane in the middle of the lake...Now how Canadian is that? Take that, Margaret Atwood!
It certainly held my interest! I wanted to purchase a canoe at once and drive
to Parry Sound.
I did buy the book. For a guy only six years older than me, Mr. Cohen did very well. Then he comes out with a second novel, The Favourite Game, where we have something like the canoe scene, but this time it's two guys doing an Alexander Portnoy in a car travelling at high speed. They achieve climax when their car crashes through a billboard...If you drink, don't diddle?
I guess I'm like the guy who failed the Roscharch Inkblot Test, saying to the psychologist, "If you wouldn't keep showing me these dirty pictures, I wouldn't carry on this way.
But still, two good,readable novels by Thirty or so? Not bad.
The Cohen's music, "oranges that came all the way from China"...what well-read Canadian doesn't know that romantic line?
The thing with Cohen is that he's so damn sensitive. Certainly evocative...I was just thinking of his song, "Susanne".
I guess you have to be a devil sometimes to earn your Canadian Music Hall of Fame halo.
He certainly has a devilish sense of humour when he gets it on.
It's that dams sensitivity, that sensibility of his. I am green with envy,though I have yet to do an Alexander Portnoy, and at the moment of crisis, crash my car
through a billboard. LOL.

ivan said...

p.s. To Josie:

George Bowering is from British
Columbia. He had once been Poet Laureate of Canada.

Maybe it's George that you like! LOL.

Shesawriter said...

"Aha, cried he, as he grabbed her wooden leg!"

Only you, Ivan. Only you. LOL!

Shesawriter said...

Josie,

{{{Hugs}}}

ivan said...

Love all of ya.
Nice to see you, Tanya.

New post is up,for what its worth.

Ivan

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