Martina Cowen, Section 13

Essay 4

Whos Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Nick

FUCK YOU! This is the first thing Honey and I hear before we enter the house. It is gone two in the

morning and weve just come from a faculty party to have drinks with one of the other teachers and

his wife who is the presidents daughter. Perhaps we shouldnt have come. They seem to be in the

middle of an argument. I certainly think we should go home. I am tired as it is, and I think Honeys

probably had enough to drink already. Before I can object too much, George and Martha insist and

we are inside. They are snapping at each other. I am finding this to be a very awkward situation

already. To change the alleviate the tension, I start talking about a painting on the wall. This only

leads to more tension, and worse, I am being made fun of. I am embarrassed. I certainly did not

come here at this time to be a made a fool out of. We are offered drinks and I take one gratefully.

Martha starts singing Whos Afraid of Virginia Woolf, a joke that was made at the party. Its really

not that funny anymore, and Martha is having a go at George for not laughing at it the first time. Is

this really necessary? Honey, sweet as her name is, tries to bring order to the room and talks about

the party and Marthas father. It is clear that George is not enamoured with the man. In fact, he

seems to hate him. There is something strange going on here. I wish we hadnt come. Honey is

clearly feeling the tension and asks to be excused. Martha accompanies her, but not before she gets

one more dig in at George. I am left alone with George. I need another drink. I can tell this is going

to be a strange night. George seems to be under the impression that Im in the math department.

Martha has told him so. I dont know where she got that idea. Im in the biology department.

George is being very rude to me. Condescending is the word. I wont have it. When Honey gets

back were leaving. I dont wish to be caught in the middle of a marital dispute. Its embarrassing.

George keeps asking me strange questions about Honey, and about my research into chromosomes.

Hes being very intrusive. He starts telling me about the history department. I dont care, I honestly
dont. I just want to go home. This man isnt speaking sense. Hes constantly changing subject. He

harks on about Marthas father and how he doesnt like him. He comments on Honeys slim figure

its not his place to comment on that. He asks me if we want children. I change the question around

and ask him if he has children himself. His answer is cryptic: Thats for me to know and you to find

out. What does that even mean? Yes or no. Its a simple question. He starts yelling for his wife. I

wish Honey would hurry up. I dont want to sit here any longer. She comes back at last, but without

Martha. Martha is changing, and for some reason this makes George furious. Honey comments to

George that Martha mentioned their son. There we are! An answer at last! This news infuriates

George even more. I am so confused. Poor Honey is not reacting well to Georges behaviour. She is

fragile. She does not respond well in this kind of environment. I decide that we should leave but

once again we seem to be trapped in this house with this crazy couple. Martha enters the room in

her new outfit and she is a sight for sore eyes. She looks positively voluptuous. I cant help but stare.

I feel so guilty. But compared to Martha, Honey is just up-and-down. I cant help but look when its

right in front of me. Conversation turns to me and my academic achievements. I am rather proud of

myself. I feign modesty though. Its only polite. Martha begins commenting on my physique. Is she

flirting with me? I think she is! I play along, only half-joking. George seems offended and storms out

of the room while Martha tells us a hilarious story of how she accidentally knocked him out. I doubt

it was an accident. When he returns George plays an awful prank involving a fake shotgun and a

parasol. I think the gun is rather ingenious, but Honey is almost traumatised by it. She was always of

a weaker constitution. I need another drink! I go to the john and when I return George makes a

ridiculous speech about chromosomes and genetics, making out like Im some kind of eugenicist!

Honey is drunk enough, or stupid enough, to take what he is saying at face value, and I snap at her.

She tries to change the subject back to George and Marthas son but it descends into mayhem when

Martha starts yelling that it might not even be Georges son! That would explain a lot of this

bitterness. This is bizarre. I want to go home dammit! Martha begins telling us the story of how she

and George married, and George is getting angrier by the second. When Martha makes it clear that
George is a failure, George snaps and smashes a bottle against the bar. This is a mad house! I need

to get out of here. Still Martha does not stop. She is relentless. George starts singing that Virginia

Woolf song again. Honey joins in. Its madness. Honey is going to be sick. Of course she is. She

always is. I suppose we wont be leaving any time soon after all.

I apologise to George for Honeys drunkenness. I knew this would happen. George and I soon begin

bickering, as I bring up that I am embarrassed to witness him and Martha fighting. I tell him why I

married Honey she thought she was pregnant. Turned out she wasnt. I dont know why Im telling

him this. Its private. Honey would be so upset that I told him. But Im drunk and tonight has been

hell. We drink some more and George tells me a horrible story of a boy who accidentally killed both

of his parents. I feel sick just hearing it. I tell George about how Honey and I met. It wasnt

romantic, or passionate. It was just sort of expected of us. Then she fell pregnant and her father

offered me money I dont think I even love Honey. No, thats a terrible thing to think. I mustnt

think that again. Somehow we end up talking about Martha and I half-joke that I should mount her.

But George isnt joking. Hes seriously trying to get me to bed his wife! This is sick. I have no time

for a man with such little self-respect. When Martha and Honey come back in, Martha makes some

nasty comment about George making their son throw up all the time. George responds by accusing

Martha of sexually assaulting their son! I cant believe my ears! Can any of this be true? I cant tell

whats truth and whats a lie! Honey wants more brandy and of course she gets what she wants. She

wont listen to me. Now she wants to dance, of all things. George chooses some depressing

Beethoven, and I can tell hes done it on purpose to spite Martha. Honey is dancing around, flailing

like a drunken idiot. Martha changes the record and grabs me. We dance together while Honey and

George watch. Honey doesnt seem to notice the chemistry in the air but I can tell George sees

everything. I dont know what draws me to Martha. Shes just so wild. Completely different from

meek Honey. Martha brings up a novel that George wrote. George warns her not to talk about it. It

seems to be a sensitive subject. Naturally, Martha continues. Its the story of the boy who killed his

parents! Apparently, Marthas father told him he couldnt publish the book and still work for him, so
George backed down. Like a coward! He is a coward, this man! George snaps again and attacks

Martha! I cannot believe it! A coward, and an animal! I pull him away and he suggests that now we

have finished playing Humiliate the Host (and what a fun game that was), we should play Hump the

Hostess. He needs to calm down. The next game will be Get the Guests. I dont like where this is

going. Hes telling the story I told him in confidence! I feel sick. What will Honey think? When she

finally figures it out, she is furious with me and of course she needs to be sick again. I go with her.

She doesnt want me near her. I leave her lying on the bathroom floor. When I return, Martha and

George have been arguing yet again. When George leaves to get some ice, Martha puts her hand on

my leg. I dont resist, or say anything. I like it. I know its wrong, but I push the thought of Honey

lying on the bathroom floor out of my mind. I kiss Martha and try to put my hand in her bra, but she

tells me to wait. I am disappointed, but it was probably good as George enters a few moments later.

Hes in a weird mood. Could he have seen us kissing? Hes reading a book now how bizarre. Hes

unnaturally calm. Martha sends me to the kitchen to wait for her. As we go upstairs to the bedroom

I hear George screaming that Martha will regret what shes doing. Perhaps Ill regret it too, but right

now I couldnt care less.

Afterwards I feel guilty and go to check on Honey. She is in a sorry state, still on the bathroom floor

but with a bottle of brandy which she is peeling the label off of. I walk in on Martha clinking the ice

in her glass in a rather bizarre manner. Everyone here is mad. This house is making me go insane.

Martha is cruel. She insults my performance in bed. Thats low. Now, not only am I a cheater, Im a

bad lover too. Martha spouts some rubbish about George being the only person who can make her

happy. I cant believe that after everything Ive seen tonight. The doorbell rings, and as if to rub salt

in the wounds, Martha makes me answer it. Its George. He comes bearing flowers. Theyre both

making fun of me and I cant stand it. George and Martha are fighting again, about utter nonsense,

and I cant make head nor tails of what is true and what is not. George wants to play another game.

Im tired of these games. We should never have come here. I go to get Honey. George starts talking

about their son, and Martha tries to tell it her way. Honey cries out that she wants a baby. Thats all
we need right now! Martha and George keep contradicting each other until George finally tells her

that he received a telegram that their son had died. I am in shock. What a horrible end to a horrible

night. Martha is distraught. Shes blaming George. How is it Georges fault? She keeps saying that

its not Georges decision to make their son die. It finally all clicks into place. There never was a son.

He is a figment of Marthas imagination. Everything makes sense. They couldnt have children.

There is so much bitterness and hate in this house. I am ashamed of the part I have had to play in it

tonight. It is time to leave. We should never have come in the first place.