The Bald Soprano: & Other Plays
By Eugène Ionesco and Donald M. Allen
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About this ebook
Written in 1950, Eugene Ionesco’s first play, The Bald Soprano, was a seminal work of Absurdist theatre. Today, it is celebrated around the world as a modern classic for its imagination and sui generis theatricality. A hilarious parody of English manners and a striking statement on the alienation of modern life, it was inspired by the strange dialogues Ionesco encountered in foreign language phrase books.
Ionesco went on to become an internationally renowned master of modern drama, famous for the comic proportions and bizarre effects that allow his work to be simultaneously hilarious, tragic, and profound. As Ionesco has said, “Theater is not literature. . . . It is simply what cannot be expressed by any other means.”
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Reviews for The Bald Soprano
6 ratings6 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Absurd is not my style. I found this frustrating and irritating to read. If it wasn't an assignment, I wouldn't have gotten through ti.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Absurdist theatre from one of the greatest masters. Ionesco treats us to the absurdity of human life with four plays that make almost no sense at all, and yet, at the same time, they do make sort of an absurd sense. The nonsensical use of words is reminiscent of Gertrude Stein; the use of strange characters in stranger situations of Samuel Beckett; the use of stark sets is worthy of the staunchest post-modernist, but the works are pure Ionesco, twisting as much absurdity as humanly possible into these four short plays. And in some cases, such as The Lesson, it is easy to believe he had a crystal ball, as some of the conversations were so eerily prescient; the attitude of the student toward mathematics and toward education in general is a picture-perfect portrayal of the millenial student. And I will read a long time before I find a line as sublime as "Philology leads to calamity".
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Of these plays I have only read (and seen performed) The Bald Soprano, by far Ionesco's most famous. While Ionesco is a joy to read, his is a much greater pleasure to watch on stage as of course he is meant to be... The absurdist word play depends on enlightened performace, rhythmic back and forths, dynamic intonations, etc which are impossible to reproduce through silent reading. If you are ever in Paris, head to the Rue de la Huchette and watch this play! As they point out proudly outside of this tiny theatre in the oldest part of the Latin quarter, the play has been performed continually at this location for more than 50 years!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I wasn't quite ready for Mr. Ionesco's plays when I first read them. The lack of coherent language, the tsunami of a plot, all basic elements of an absurdist play-but seeing as it was my first absurdist play, I was quite bewildered. Having gone back through it after many plays, I've come to appreciate what these plays are doing. In The Bald Soprano, the middle class couples offer us a glimpse at absurd life is in its everyday dullness and lack of communication-nobody listens and nobody really says anything of importance or meaning when they do talk. In the Lesson, the reason for all the absurdist elements (lack of communication, lack of religion, lack of logic, the absurd condition) is laid bare and explained by one lesson repeated over and over. In The Chairs how one older couple feel at the end of their absurd lives is displayed through a final dramatic gesture of trying to change it. My bewilderment has turned to awe.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The title play is the best (and funniest) in this collection, which is remarkable since it was Ionesco's first. Theater of the Absurd is best in small doses, were it not for the length and scope, "The Chairs" would have been better.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5These four plays of Ionesco, among the very first that he wrote, already show him preoccupied with themes that will concern him for the rest of his career in theatre: the futility of language, the terror of ideological conformity, and theorizing about the play within the framework of the play itself. This volume includes "The Bald Soprano," "The Lesson," "Jack; Or, The Submission," and "The Chairs." Needless to say, giving a summary, insofar as one could eve be adduced, would go against the spirit of absurdism generally speaking. After all, the plots are not the most interesting things in the plays.Ionesco got the idea for "The Bald Soprano" while trying to learn Assimil method. His textbook had two characters, Mr. and Mrs. Smith (who also appear in his play), and who, despite being married to one another, feel compelled to describe one another's physical appearance, tell one another that they are both English as if all of this was genuinely new information. Mr. and Mrs. are the epitome of the English bourgeois, speaking in stock phrases and clichés (How curious it is, how curious it is, how bizarre, and what a coincidence!") so worn with use as to be devoid of any meaning. The dialogue between the characters provides a discursiveness with which he points to the emptiness and futility of language, the hopelessness of communication.Ionesco describes "The Lesson" as a "comic drama," though I found difficulty founding anything comic in it. In this play, he takes on the subject of authoritarianism as a professor of philology (which "always turns into calamity," according to his maid) relentlessly and unmercifully lectures a female student. When she proves unable to understand much of the material, he grows increasingly violent, with the student ending up dead. At the very end of the play, we learn that she is the professor's fortieth victim. And another one is walking in the door. So much for the victory of Reason.Unlike the work of other absurdists, Beckett for example, Ionesco's plays are ostentatious, full of lively dialogue, and never inward-looking or contemplative, although many of Ionesco's themes are also Beckett's. The narrativity of drama, or the lack thereof, or even the possibility thereof, is a subject of both of their work.At least for me, these plays are fun, but only in small doses. The constant litany of illogical non sequiturs and trying to keep track of all the characters that have similar names can become a little taxing and grating if the exposure goes on for too long. Nevertheless, these plays have aged remarkably well, and they remain one of the best introductions to the Theatre of the Absurd for the uninitiated.
Book preview
The Bald Soprano - Eugène Ionesco
The Bald Soprano and Other Plays
WORKS BY EUGÈNE IONESCO
PUBLISHED BY GROVE PRESS
Exit the King, The Killer, and Macbett
The Bald Soprano and Other Plays
(The Lesson; The Chairs; Jack, or The Submission)
Rhinoceros and Other Plays (The Leader;
The Future Is in Eggs or It Takes All Sorts to Make a World)
Three Plays (Amédée; The New Tenant; Victims of Duty)
EUGÈNE IONESCO
The Bald Soprano
and Other Plays
•
The Bald Soprano
The Lesson
Jack or The Submission
The Chairs
•
Translated by Donald M. Allen
Copyright © 1958 by Grove Press. Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Scanning, uploading, and electronic distribution of this book or the facilitation of such without the permission of the publisher is prohibited. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. Any member of educational institutions wishing to photocopy part or all of the work for classroom use, or anthology, should send inquiries to Grove/Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003 or permissions@groveatlantic.com.
CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that these plays are subject to a royalty. They are fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, and all British Commonwealth countries, and all countries covered by the International Copyright Union, the Pan-American Copyright Convention, and the Universal Copyright Convention. All rights, including professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.
All inquiries concerning English-language stock and amateur applications for permission to perform them must be made in advance to Samuel French, Inc., 45 West 25th Street, New York, NY 10010. No professional or non-professional performance of the plays may be given without obtaining in advance the written permission of Samuel French, Inc., and paying the requisite fee, whether the plays are presented for charity or gain and whether or not admission is charged. Professional applications for permission to perform them, and those other rights stated above, must be made in advance to Casarotto-Ramsay, 60-66 Wardour Street, London W1V 3HP, England.
This volume was originally published as Four Plays by Eugene Ionesco.
The French texts of these plays were originally published in France in Eugène Ionesco: Théâtre, Volume I, copyright by Librairie Gallimard, 1954. A shortened version of the translation of The Bald Soprano was published in New World Writing, Ninth Mentor Selection, copyright © 1956, by Eugène Ionesco.
Published simultaneously in Canada
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 58-7344
ISBN-10: 0-8021-3079-8
ISBN-13: 978-0-8021-3079-2
eISBN: 9780802190765
Grove Press
an imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
841 Broadway
New York, NY 10003
Distributed by Publishers Group West
www.groveatlantic.com
12 13 14 15 1672 71 70 69
CONTENTS
A NOTE ON THE ORIGINAL PRODUCTIONS
The Bald Soprano, Anti-play
The Lesson, A Comic Drama
Jack, or The Submission, A Naturalistic Comedy
The Chairs, A Tragic Farce
A NOTE ON THE ORIGINAL PRODUCTIONS
La Cantatrice chauve was first produced at the Théâtre des Noctambules, on May 11, 1950, by a company of young actors which included Paulette Frantz, Simone Mozet, Odette Barrois, Nicolas Bataille, Claude Mansard and Henry-Jacques Huet.
•
La Leçon was first produced at the Théâtre de Poche, February 20, 1951. The role of the Professor was played by Marcel Cuvelier, the Pupil by Rosette Zuchelli, and the Maid by Claude Mansard.
•
Jacques ou la soumission was first produced in October, 1955, at the Théâtre de la Huchette. Robert Postée directed the play. The role of Jack was played by Jean-Louis Trintignant and that of Roberta by Reine Courtois; other parts were taken by Tsilla Chelton, Madeleine Damien, Paulette Frantz, Pierre Leproux, Claude Mansard, and Claude Thibault. The stage set, costumes and mask were designed by Jacques Noël.
•
Les Chaises was produced for the first time on April 22, 1952, at the Théâtre Lancry. It was directed by Sylvain Dhomme, who played the Orator, and the set was designed by Jacques Noël. The roles of the old people were played by Tsilla Chelton and Paul Chevalier. The play was revived in 1956, at the Studio des Champs Elysées, under the direction of Jacques Mauclair, who played the role of the Old Man.
THE BALD SOPRANO
•
Anti-play
The Characters
MR. SMITH
MRS. SMITH
MR. MARTIN
MRS. MARTIN
MARY, the maid
THE FIRE CHIEF
SCENE: A middle-class English interior, with English armchairs. An English evening. Mr. Smith, an Englishman, seated in his English armchair and wearing English slippers, is smoking his English pipe and reading an English newspaper, near an English fire. He is wearing English spectacles and a small gray English mustache. Beside him, in another English armchair, Mrs. Smith, an Englishwoman, is darning some English socks. A long moment of English silence. The English clock strikes 17 English strokes.
MRS. SMITH: There, it's nine o'clock. We've drunk the soup, and eaten the fish and chips, and the English salad. The children have drunk English water. We've eaten well this evening. That's because we live in the suburbs of London and because our name is Smith.
MR. SMITH [continues to read, clicks his tongue.]
MRS. SMITH: Potatoes are very good fried in fat; the salad oil was not rancid. The oil from the grocer at the corner is better quality than the oil from the grocer across the street. It is even better than the oil from the grocer at the bottom of the street. However, I prefer not to tell them that their oil is bad.
MR. SMITH [continues to read, clicks his tongue.]
MRS. SMITH: However, the oil from the grocer at the corner is still the best.
MR. SMITH [continues to read, clicks his tongue.]
MRS. SMITH: Mary did the potatoes very well, this evening. The last time she did not do them well. I do not like them when they are well done.
MR. SMITH [continues to read, clicks his tongue.]
MRS. SMITH: The fish was fresh. It made my mouth water. I had two helpings. No, three helpings. That made me go to the w.c. You also had three helpings. However, the third time you took less than the first two times, while as for me, I took a great deal more. I eat better than you this evening. Why is that? Usually, it is you who eats more. It is not appetite you lack.
MR. SMITH [clicks his tongue.]
MRS. SMITH: But still, the soup was perhaps a little too salt. It was saltier than you. Ha, ha, ha. It also had too many leeks and not enough onions. I regret I didn't advise Mary to add some aniseed stars. The next time I'll know better.
MR. SMITH [continues to read, clicks his tongue.]
MRS. SMITH: Our little boy wanted to drink some beer; he's going to love getting tiddly. He's like you. At table did you notice how he stared at the bottle? But I poured some water from the jug into his glass. He was thirsty and he drank it. Helen is like me: she's a good manager, thrifty, plays the piano. She never asks to drink English beer. She's like our little daughter who drinks only milk and eats only porridge. It's obvious that she's only two. She's named Peggy. The quince and bean pie was marvelous. It would have been nice, perhaps, to have had a small glass of Australian Burgundy with the sweet, but I did not bring the bottle to the table because I did not wish to set the children a bad example of gluttony. They must learn to be sober and temperate.
MR. SMITH [continues to read, clicks his tongue.]
MRS. SMITH: Mrs. Parker knows a Rumanian grocer by the name of Popesco Rosenfeld, who has just come from Constantinople. He is a great specialist in yogurt. He has a diploma from the school of yogurt-making in Adrianople. Tomorrow I shall buy a large pot of native Rumanian yogurt from him. One doesn't often find such things here in the suburbs of London.
MR. SMITH [continues to read, clicks his tongue.]
MRS. SMITH: Yogurt is excellent for the stomach, the kidneys, the appendicitis, and apotheosis. It was Doctor Mackenzie-King who told me that, he's the one who takes care of the children of our neighbors, the Johns. He's a good doctor. One can trust him. He never prescribes any medicine that he's not tried out on himself first. Before operating on Parker, he had his own liver operated on first, although he was not the least bit ill.
MR. SMITH: But how does it happen that the doctor pulled through while Parker died?
MRS. SMITH: Because the operation was successful in the doctor's case and it was not in Parker's.
MR. SMITH: Then Mackenzie is not a good doctor. The operation should have succeeded with both of them or else both should have died.
MRS. SMITH: Why?
MR. SMITH: A conscientious doctor must die with his patient if they can't get well together. The captain of a ship goes down with his ship into the briny deep, he does not survive alone.
MRS. SMITH: One cannot compare a patient with a ship.
MR. SMITH: Why not? A ship has its diseases too; moreover, your doctor is as hale as a ship; that's why he should have perished at the same time as his patient, like the captain and his ship.
MRS. SMITH: Ah! I hadn't thought of that . . . Perhaps it is true . . . And then, what conclusion do you draw from this?
MR. SMITH: All doctors are quacks. And all patients too. Only the Royal Navy is honest in England.
MRS. SMITH: But not sailors.
MR. SMITH: Naturally [A pause. Still reading his paper:] Here's a thing I don't understand. In the newspaper they always give the age of deceased persons but never the age of the newly born. That doesn't make sense.
MRS. SMITH: I never thought of that!
[Another moment of silence. The clock strikes seven times. Silence. The clock strikes three times. Silence. The clock doesn't strike.]
MR. SMITH [still reading his paper]: Tsk, it says here that Bobby Watson died.
MRS. SMITH: My God, the poor man! When did he die?
MR. SMITH: Why do you pretend to be astonished? You know very well that he's been dead these past two years. Surely you remember that we attended his funeral a year and a half ago.
MRS. SMITH: Oh yes, of course I do remember. I remembered it right away, but I don't understand why you yourself were so surprised to see it in the paper.
MR. SMITH: It wasn't in the paper. It's been three years since his death was announced. I remembered it through an association of ideas.
MRS. SMITH: What a pity! He was so well preserved.
MR. SMITH: He was the handsomest corpse in Great Britain. He didn't look his age. Poor Bobby, he'd been dead for four years and he was still warm. A veritable living corpse. And how cheerful he was!
MRS. SMITH: Poor Bobby.
MR. SMITH: Which poor Bobby do you mean?
MRS. SMITH: It is his wife that I mean. She is called Bobby too, Bobby Watson. Since they both had the same name, you could never tell one from the other when you saw them together. It was only after his death that you could really tell which was which. And there are still people today who confuse her with the deceased and offer their condolences to him. Do you know her?
MR. SMITH: I only met her once, by chance, at Bobby's burial.
MRS. SMITH: I've never seen her. Is she pretty?
MR. SMITH: She has regular features and yet one cannot say that she is pretty. She is too big and stout. Her features are not regular but still one can say that she is very pretty. She is a little too small and too thin. She's a voice teacher.
[The clock strikes five times. A long silence.]
MRS. SMITH: And when do they plan to be married, those two?
MR. SMITH: Next spring, at the latest.
MRS. SMITH: We shall have to go to their wedding, I suppose.
MR. SMITH: We shall have to give them a wedding present. I wonder what?
MRS. SMITH: Why don't we give them one of the seven silver salvers that were given us for our wedding and which have never been of any use to us? [Silence.]
MRS. SMITH: How sad for her to be left a widow so young.
MR. SMITH: Fortunately, they had no children.
MRS. SMITH: That was all they needed! Children! Poor woman, how could she have managed!
MR. SMITH: She's still young. She might very well remarry. She looks so well in mourning.
MRS. SMITH: But who would take care of the children? You know very well that they have a boy and a girl. What are their names?
MR. SMITH: Bobby and Bobby like their parents. Bobby Watson's uncle, old Bobby Watson, is a rich man and very fond of the boy. He might very well pay for Bobby's education.
MRS. SMITH: That would be proper. And Bobby Watson's aunt, old Bobby Watson, might very well, in her turn, pay for the education of Bobby Watson, Bobby Watson's daughter. That way Bobby, Bobby Watson's mother, could remarry. Has she anyone in mind?
MR. SMITH: Yes, a cousin of Bobby Watson's.
MRS. SMITH: Who? Bobby Watson?
MR. SMITH: Which Bobby Watson do you mean?
MRS. SMITH: Why, Bobby Watson, the son of old Bobby Watson, the late Bobby Watson's other uncle.
MR. SMITH: No, it's not that one, it's someone else. It's Bobby Watson, the son of old Bobby Watson, the late Bobby Watson's aunt.
MRS. SMITH: Are you referring to Bobby Watson the commercial traveler?
MR. SMITH: All the Bobby Watsons are commercial travelers.
MRS. SMITH: What a difficult trade! However, they do well at it.
MR. SMITH: Yes, when there's no competition.
MRS. SMITH: And when is there no competition?
MR. SMITH: