Authors: Lorraine Hansberry
Les Blancs (35 page)
What
use
are flowers?!
(
A bit thrown
)
Well … there were, in the old days, certain perfectly tasteless individuals who insisted on making wine out of them. But that was not a use—it was a violation! Ah, but the uses of flowers are infinite! One may smell them—
(
He inhales deeply, then holds them out to the
CHILDREN
,
who inhale deeply in imitation
)
One may touch their petals and feel heaven—
(
He touches them
)
Or one may write quite charming verses about them—
(
Abruptly, to head them off
)
—now, do not ask me what verses are! When you have become proficient in language, I’m afraid no power on earth will be able to stop you from composing them! All right, now on to the surprise. I think that it will be perhaps the most satisfying thing I shall ever be able to teach you …
(
He turns upstage, draws himself up, makes several false starts and finally, turning back, begins to sing—horribly
)
Alas, my lo-ove, you do me wro-ong—
(
The
CHILDREN
giggle at the curious sound—he hesitates with embarrassment, but continues
)
To cast me out discourteously
When I have lo-oved you so lo-ong
Deli-ighting i-in your company.
(
They giggle again, but he presses on and at last they hush and listen, caught in the phenomenon of the human voice lifted in song. He sings crudely but sweetly, gaining confidence
)
Greensleeves was my deli-ight
And Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my song of so-ongs
And who but my La-ay-dy Greensleeves.
(
He is momentarily overcome with the realization that such notes may never in fact be heard on this earth again. Then, recovering
)
Well, that—loosely speaking—is what is called a “melody.” It belongs—well, properly sung, it belongs—to a great body of pleasure which is called “music” …
CHILDREN
Music.
HERMIT
(
He nods
)
However, melodies do not necessarily need to be sung. Sometimes they can provide as much beauty when … ah, but that is Charlie’s surprise. Charlie.
(
He beckons to the boy, who hesitates. Reassuringly
)
Come along, lad.
(
CHARLIE
steps forward, as nervous as a performer has ever been and reveals a reed instrument which is a crude but competent flute. He lifts it to his lips and haltingly plays the first stanza of “Greensleeves.” The
CHILDREN’
s faces reflect the miracle. As
CHARLIE
begins the chorus, the
HERMIT
stops him
)
That was lovely, Charlie. Lovely. Now—
(
To the
CHILDREN
)
—you
try it with us …
(
He sings the melody to
CHARLIE
’s
accompaniment and conducts, expecting the
CHILDREN
to join in. They do not. Undaunted
)
Come on, children … sing! … sing!
(
He begins once more, louder and more urgently, as if by sheer force of will to sweep them along. There is no response and at last he stops. Helplessly
)
Try …
(
Silence. He turns away in defeat. Suddenly one takes up the song, then another, and another, and finally all—tentatively at first, then with growing conviction as the Master conducts, quite carried away, exultant
)
Good … good! Yes, yes … keep to the tempo now! Good … good …
(
Suddenly peering forward as
LILY
raises her hand
)
Yes, Lily?
LILY
USE?
HERMIT
Use?
What
use
is MUSIC???
(
At a loss for words, he gropes
)
Well, there are many uses … there are different kinds of uses … Yes, well—
(
Decisively: an order
)
—YOU
JUST
SING!
(
As the voices rise to their fullest, he grins
)
Tomorrow—Beethoven’s Ninth!
Blackout
4
In the darkness
,
CHARLIE
’s primitive flute begins, very slowly and haltingly, the first measures of Beethoven’s Ninth, the Choral; and presently, over it, we hear the
HERMIT
’s
voice:
HERMIT
Yes, Charlie … there! I told you you could do it! You’re playing Beethoven, boy! Beethoven!
(
The notes become firmer, more controlled, as if we are experiencing the learning process in microcosm, until finally they are rendered almost perfectly in the temper of the Hymn to Joy as we know it, the tempo addressed to the spirit of man: martial, certain, aspirational
)
… He couldn’t
hear
, you know? But that didn’t stop him! … We’ll
do
it, Charlie! You will teach the others the melody and I shall teach them the words! Well, that is—as soon as I can recall them well enough to translate from the German—I simply have no strength left for the declensions!
(
As the lights come up, Schiller’s flash of ecstasy is shouted out by the old man, and the
CHILDREN
’s
voices burst forth. They are arranged in that stiff self-conscious grouping which is the style and posture of all choruses—except that
LILY
is beating time to
CHARLIE
’s
accompaniment on a great drum of clay, while the others add flourishes of their own on improvised instruments. They sing with pride and vigor—and what we should be forced to thrillingly feel is childhood’s assumption of the inevitability of the statement. And through it all the Master stands facing upstage, waving his hands in accurate tempo and lacking only flowing black robes
)
HERMIT
(
Shouting
)
Joy, thou source of light immortal!
CHILDREN
Joy, thou source of light immortal!
HERMIT
Daughter of Elysium!
CHILDREN
Daughter of Elysium!
ALL
Touched with fire, to the portal
Of thy radiant shrine we come.
Thy pure magic frees all others
Held in Custom’s rigid rings;
Men throughout the world are brothers
In the haven of thy wings …
HERMIT
Bravo, children. Bravo!
(
He bows to them and they, formally, to him
)
As the poet Emerson said to Walt Whitman upon the publication of
Leaves of Grass:
“I greet you at the start of a great career!”
(
The group disperses and various ones settle down to different onstage activities
)
Uh, Charlie. I should very much like to talk with you.
(
The Master ushers
CHARLIE
into his lean-to, with oddly deliberate social mannerisms all of a sudden
)
Have a seat, won’t you?
(
This lean- to is not, of course, what man or child can stand up in fully, and the “seats” are well-placed flat rocks
)
Would you care for some water?
(
The boy signifies “no” with his head and looks at the Master curiously
)
(
Shoving a mug of water on him
)
No, you must say Yes, Charlie.
(
Passing some grapes
)
Because we are not pupil and Master just now—we are friends and—
(
Settling down on one rock after forcing
CHARLIE
to sit on another and to accept the water and grapes
)
—what we are doing now—
(
Taking a grape himself and smacking over it elaborately
)
—is “socializing.” And, you see, since this is
my
home, it is my obligation to make you feel welcome and even to entertain you and give you refreshments. And, under the last codes that I recall, it was more graceful to accept than not. Though I will admit such rules frequently reversed themselves.
CHARLIE
How—you—?
HERMIT
“Socialize”? Exactly like this. We sit and we look at one another and eventually begin to tell one another perfectly outlandish stories, you see. It was a kind of ritual. But I shall have to teach you quite what a joke is. The last one I recall—well—oh, yes, Why does a chicken cross the road? That is to say, Why does the wild guinea hen that we eat, you know, why does it run across the path? You are supposed to say: “I don’t know, sir.”
CHARLIE
Why?
HERMIT
Because if you don’t say that, I shan’t have an altogether logical reason to give you the answer and it was the answers, I gather, which were purportedly the point of these quite extraordinary exercises of the human mind.
CHARLIE
(
Stiffly
)
“I-don’t-know-sir.”
HERMIT
Well, a chicken crosses the road to get to the other side.
(
They stare at one another
)
Now you do this, lad.
(
Holding his stomach like jolly old St. Nick in order to instruct
)
“Ho, ho, ho, ho!”
CHARLIE
(
Frowning mightily and imitating with exactitude
)
Ho, ho, ho, ho!
HERMIT
Show your teeth rather more, I think. And throw back your head. Yes, very good. That will do.
(
Looking down at his hands with sudden seriousness
)
Look here, there’s another reason for our little get-together this afternoon. And it has to do with something fairly serious. And this really is the proper setting, because what we are having here is a sort of cocktail party, you see, which is where most really important matters were generally decided. Under circumstances quite like this—I mean with people chatting amicably and drinking things. Be that as it may. I want to try to discuss something rather serious and rather difficult with you—and, well, the fact of the matter is that I don’t really, to tell the absolute truth, know how to go about it.
(
Blurting suddenly
)
Not that I didn’t know one hell of a lot about women myself, you see! But, with the young, we traditionally preferred to make an awkward process out of it. And I don’t seem to know how to reverse the custom.
(
The child simply stares at him
)
What I am trying to say is: do you know why I did not cut
Lily’s
hair?
(
As quickly realizing the futility of that approach
)
Oh, no, no—! Listen, let us approach it this way: you are a leader, Charlie, and there are some things which … you poor fellow, I shall have to hope that you take responsibility for when I will—have gone away.
CHARLIE
(
Jumping up
)
Gone? Where?
HERMIT
(
Quietly
)
That will have to be a different lesson one day soon. But, we still have time … and for the moment this other matter is more imperative—so that when I do go away … What it has to do with is—
(
Looking at the boy with serious eyes
)
—the survival of—
(
His lips fall with the weight of the impossibility of trying to suggest to a ten-year-old that the perpetuation of the human race could possibly be his responsibility
.
Throughout the prior scene the following has been occurring outside at right: of two boys making pottery, one has proven more an artist than the other, and thus the first has simply reached out and claimed one or two of the other’s pots, and the other fellow has retaliated by yanking them back, for which he is socked—which now launches a grim, stark and savage fight with one bashing the other’s head until it is red with blood and the other as passionately trying to choke all life out of the first. It is the fight of savages who mean to maim or destroy
.
As they tussle, they crash a lean- to here and some pots there. As it is not yet spectacle or sport in
their
society, the
CHILDREN
do not pay the fighters the least bit of attention; but merely move out of the way when they roll their way and go on with whatever they are doing
.
Hearing a crash finally, the
HERMIT
looks out to see what is happening
)
HERMIT
(
Seeing and screaming at them
)
Animals …!
(
He runs to them and tries to tear them apart; they snarl and tear at him viciously in their eagerness to get at one another again
)
Animals, I say! … Will you never change!
(
Now he is also being covered with the blood of one of them as he is flung about trying to tear them apart
)
Even in your wretchedness—are you still at it!?
(
One of them flings him to the ground
,
CHARLIE
is about to come to his rescue but hesitates and stands back, frozen
)
Go ahead!
Destroy yourselves!
You do not deserve to survive! YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO SURVIVE!
(
The fighting
CHILDREN
do not hear him but continue tearing away at each other. The others simply stare at the screaming old man with a quizzical expression on their faces
.
Getting up almost in delirium, rolling and slipping and falling in trying to get on his feet
)