The Other Shore (24 page)

Read The Other Shore Online

Authors: Gao Xingjian

Tags: #Drama, #Asian, #General, #Literary Criticism, #Chinese

BOOK: The Other Shore
4.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

(
Monk enters dancing. He is holding a horsetail whisk to dust himself. He picks up an imaginary leaf from his shoulder and blows on it, making a whistling sound. Then he closes his eyes and chants: “Good men and women, good knowledge, purify your nature, purify your heart, Amitabha Buddha!” Monk exits
.

Afterwards Man and Girl’s behaviour becomes increasingly abnormal and strange.
)

 

Man:

(
Talking to himself.
) Behind that door, perhaps there is nothing.

Girl:

(
Asking herself.
) No memories?

Man:

(
Ruminating.
) That door, behind that door, perhaps there is really nothing, do you believe that?

Girl:

No fantasies?

Man
That’s right, there’s nothing behind that door, you thought there was something, but there’s nothing.

Girl:

And no dreams either?

Man:

(
To audience
.) That door, behind that door, there’s nothing.

Girl:

She can’t remember anything.

Man:

(
To himself.
) There’s absolutely nothing behind that door. (
Giggles
.)

Girl:

(
To audience
.) What happened?

Man:

(
Softly, his back facing Girl.
) That door, behind that door, there is nothing.

Girl:

(
Softly.
) And no memories.

Man:

Absolutely, absolutely.

Girl:

And no fantasies.

Man:

Absolutely, absolutely. (
Nods his head.
)

Girl:

And no dreams either.

Man:

Absolutely, absolutely! (
Becoming contemptuous, his head to one side.
)

Girl:

(
More softly.
) Can’t say.

Man:

(
Very softly
.) Why?

Girl:

(
With certainty.
) Can’t say.

Man:

Why can’t you say it?

Girl:

(
Almost whispering
.) Can’t say!

 

(
Man is speechless
.

Monk enters. Sound of running water
.

Monk hastens forward, kneels on one knee, bends down and clasps his hands as if to cup the water. He dips his little finger in the water to wash his ears. After cleaning both ears, he rises and listens respectfully. His mouth opens slowly and reveals a Buddha-like smile. He exits quietly
.)

 

Girl:

She can’t believe that she actually said it, she said something that can’t be said, but she said it, clearly this can’t be said but why did she have to say it? It ought not to be said it can’t be said but she said it regardless, it’s her misfortune, it’s her disaster, it’s her sin.

Man:

(
Gets up, looks around and speaks loudly.
) And no door! (
Facing audience.
) The door? Where’s the door? The door? The door? The door…(
Lowers his head
.) If you think you see it then you see it, if you think there’s something then there’s something, but what if you think there isn’t? The door? Of course it’s not there. (
Laughs to himself.
) That door of yours—no doubt it’s something out of nothing, you’re just being nosy, you just want to find a way out. What if you can’t find a way out? Isn’t that just as good? (
Laughs loudly
.)

Girl (
On her knees, murmuring.
) Her sin, well, if she feels guilty then she’s guilty. She’s afraid of this and afraid of that, afraid of this, afraid of that, afraid, afraid, afraid, but she’s not afraid of her, not afraid of herself. But what happens if she’s also afraid of herself? Then wouldn’t she be not afraid?

Man:

A way out, a way out, since there’s no way out, why go and look for it? You only want to prove you’re not trapped, or look at it another way, you’re looking just to prove that you’re trapped? What if you were to stop looking? Then you’re not trapped, and you aren’t not trapped? Either you’re trapped or you’re not trapped, either you’re not trapped or you aren’t not trapped, isn’t it all your own doing?

Girl:

If she feels she’s not guilty, what’s there to be afraid of? She’s afraid because she feels she’s guilty, she feels guilty because she’s afraid. And if she’s not afraid then she no longer—(
Pauses.
) That’s even more horrifying than Silent Extinction…

Man:

If you weren’t you, there wouldn’t be the need to prove anything, would it? But if you weren’t you, then who are you?

Girl:

A silkworm, which gets enmeshed in its own cocoon.

Man:

Do you care who you are? Why can’t you put down this you of yours?

Girl:

Left with only the remnants of a broken wish?

Man:

You keep on babbling only to show that you are you, that you’re not like other people.

Girl:

A wisp of silk at large.

Man:

You are you because you’re still talking, that’s all there is to it.

Girl:

Wind.

Man:

Actually you don’t know what you’re talking about, you talk only because you want to. (
Shakes his head.
)

Girl:

Hollow.

Man:

You can’t understand the meaning of your own words, you’re just the slave of language, but you can’t stop yourself from talking endlessly—(
Shakes his head.
)

Girl:

Tin soldier.

Man:

You can’t free yourself from language’s entanglement, just like a spider—(Shakes his head.) No, you’re not a spider, but you’re still a spider. (
Shakes his head.
)

Girl:

Candle.

Man:

You’re not free to move, being trapped in the web of language of your own making—(
Shakes his head.
)

Girl:

Sa, send, da, la, wood—

Man:

Drunk city, mourning, stone statue—(
Listening to himself attentively.
) Why mourn a stone statue? Is the whole city drunk, or is everyone drunk all over the city? Or is someone or something mourning the idol with drunkenness? Stones are heartless, do humans have a heart? Is the city drunk? Does the stone know?

Girl:

Trap, jump, show, mouth, cut—

Man:

Hut—sin—grief—chime—bell. (
Tilting his head to think.
) Who’s actually grieving for who? Is this the hut owner’s death or the instruments’pain? Do the instruments know their suffering? If they don’t, how can they mourn? Where is the mourner? How does one know? This one, that one, what are they mourning? What is there to mourn? It’s all utter nonsense!

 

(
Monk enters sweeping the floor. He is holding a big broom, his back to the audience. He stops when he comes to front stage and sees the two heads
.

The lights on stage gradually darken, except for the light shining on the heads, which becomes brighter. Monk turns to observe Man and Girl
.

Man and Girl’s movements become very slow
.)

 

Girl:

(
Murmuring
.) Win—ter…

Man:

(
Observing her
.) Aha!

Girl:

Makes…

Man:

What?

Girl:

Tea—pot…

Man:

(
Sarcastically
.) Winter makes teapot?

Girl:

Teapot…

Man:

Teapot what?

Girl:

Makes…

Man:

Makes what?

Girl:

Winter…

Man:

Teapot makes winter?

Girl:

Makes…

Man:

And then—?

Girl:

Teapot…

Man:

And then makes teapot?

Girl:

It is…

Man:

It is what? Speak!

Girl:

It is not…

Man:

It is it is not?

Girl:

Is…

Man:

Is it is it not—is it winter makes teapot or teapot makes winter? (
Getting angry.
) Or is it it is not winter makes teapot or teapot makes winter? Or it is it is not is it not winter makes teapot or is it it is teapot makes winter? Or is it winter makes teapot makes winter? Or it is it is not is it winter makes teapot and then makes winter? Speak, speak, speak, go on!

 

(
Monk ignores them, sweeping more earnestly
.

Man and Girl move and speak faster with the quickening rhythm of the broom. Their bodies become more contorted, like two strange crawling reptiles
.)

 

Girl:

Crack…

Man:

What crack?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

What kind of a crack?

Girl:

A crack line…

Man:

What crack line?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

What’s this crack like?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

Why a crack?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

Where’s this crack?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

Why is it called a crack?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

A crack and a crack!

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

Why is there just a crack?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

A crack is a crack!

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

Okay, fine, a crack, so? What about it?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

To hell with the crack!

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

Only one crack?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

Another crack?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

(
Exploding
.) A cr—a—ck—?

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

(Laughs bitterly.) A crack.

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

(Talking to himself.) A crack…

Girl:

A crack…

Man:

(Murmuring.) A crack…

Man & Girl:

(Almost simultaneously.) A crack—

 

(
Monk coughs and throws the broom on the ground at the same time. He halts
.

Man and Girl are stunned by the noise, staring at Monk
.

Monk turns to face the audience. He inhales deeply and slowly and then exhales as slowly. All lights go out
.

Monk turns to open a curtain, revealing a greyish blue sky
.

Monk stands motionless and looks outside the door, his back to the audience. Gradually the wind starts to blow
.)

 

The
end

 

14 June 1992, Saint-Herblin, France.

 

Some Suggestions on Producing Dialogue and Rebuttal

1. The play is not intended to narrate a real or fictional story; the emphasis is on how to narrate or on the act of narration itself. Thus there is no need for the director to rationalize the characters or the stage setting, and he should instead focus his attention on the mode of narration and its variations according to the instructions in the script.

2. The two characters in the play need not be sharply defined in terms of character traits. Shunning total identification, the actors playing the parts only have to ease themselves into the situations and pay attention to establishing communication with their partner and the audience. The acting must strive for clarity and simplicity.

3. The key to the dialogue between Man and Girl lies in the use of personal pronouns. There is a distinction between Man’s uses of the first person “I” and the second person “You,” and between Girl’s use of the first person “I” and the third person “she.” With the first person “I,” the actor is the character; with the second person “You” or the third person “she,” the actor is referring to the character he or she is playing. When “I” is used, the acting should be natural; when “You” or “she” is used, the actor is listening closely to himself or herself, and the acting should stress somatic movements or even try to express itself through dancing.

4. The actor playing the Monk will preferably be someone who has had some training in traditional Chinese opera or in the Japanese Noh play. However, as long as he can execute the movements prescribed in the script in a neat and tidy manner and without drawing attention to himself, he does not have to preoccupy himself with stylized movements or conventions.

5. The play’s dialogic form is inspired by the
gongan
公案 style of question and answer in Chinese Zen Buddhism. The play has no intention of promoting Buddhism, and there is no need for the director to devote his time and effort in expounding the meaning of Zen Buddhism. The author only wants to propose that this kind of dialogue and cross-questioning is capable of being dramatized as a form of stage performance.

Other books

Death and the Jubilee by David Dickinson
Breathless by Anne Stuart
Dating and Other Dangers by Natalie Anderson
Loving Dallas by Caisey Quinn
Conflagration by Mick Farren
City of the Dead by Jones, Rosemary
Sunshine Yellow by Mary Whistler
City of God by Cecelia Holland
Devil’s Harvest by Andrew Brown