Anna Weiss E-Book

Mike Cullen

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: NHB Modern Plays
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 77

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

An explosive, gripping and disturbing play about the phenomenon of False Memory Syndrome. Anna Weiss is a hypnotherapist, specialising in revealing 'lost' memories. Under her care, twenty-year-old Lynn has begun to 'remember' a long history of sexual abuse by her father. When Lynn confronts her father, David, he protests his innocence vehemently – so are Lynn's memories real or are they dark auto-suggestions? Mike Cullen's play Anna Weiss was first performed at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, in 1997, winning the Edinburgh Festival Critics' Award. It was revived at the Whitehall Theatre in the West End in 1999.

Leseprobe

Mike Cullen

ANNA WEISS

NICK HERN BOOKSLondonwww.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Title Page

Original Production

Dedication

Epigraph

Characters

Anna Weiss

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Anna Weiss was first performed at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, on 18 July 1997, with the following cast:

LYNNE

Iona Carbarns

DAVID

John Stahl

ANNA

Anne Marie Timoney

Director

Vicky Featherstone

Designer

Mark Leese

Lighting Designer

Chahine Yavroyan

This play is dedicated to Nick Marston, my agent, for his endless enthusiasm and faith, and to Peter Arnott, for giving me the right directions.

I thought I saw, upon the stair A little man who wasn’t there He wasn’t there again today Oh, how I wish he’d go away

Children’s rhyme

Characters

ANNA – late thirties, a private hypnotherapis DAVID – early forties LYNN – David’s daughter, early twenties

The action takes place in Anna’s flat

ACT ONE – the eve of moving out

ACT TWO – later the same evening

The actors should feel free to use their own, natural, uninflected accent, regardless of the production location.

ActOne

The living room ofANNA WEISS’sflat. The flat is almost empty, save for a number of large tea chests, which are packed with possessions, and a couple of old wooden chairs. There are two exits, one to the street, the other to the rest of the flat. Four suitcases sit near the street exit.

EnterLYNN,jeans and a T-Shirt. She crosses to the first chest, starts to rummage through it. EnterANNA,smartly dressed,carrying some books, which she places in another of the chests. She talks at breakneck speed.

ANNA. And just in case you’re interested, I hadn’t finished.

LYNN. What?

ANNA. Talking, I hadn’t finished talking.

LYNN. Sorry.

ANNA. I turn around, you’ve wandered off again, I’m talking to myself.

LYNN. I’m sorry.

ANNA. Which is fine. (Pause.) Only I don’t need to hear it.

ANNAexits into the flat.

LYNN (looking over her shoulder).I said I was . . .

LYNNsighs, resumes her search.EnterANNA,carrying more books, which she places in the chest.

ANNA. And while I might be the first to admit that I like the sound of my own voice, I generally don’t indulge in conversation without a purpose, without somepointwhich I think may or may not be ofuseto you.

LYNN. I said I was sorry.

ANNA. I mean far be it from me to decide what you should or shouldn’t listen to, I’m only the one with experience.

ANNAexits again.

ANNA (Offstage, raising her voice).Ten years of experience, to be exact, dealing, solving,healingcase after case exactly like yours, experience which, judging by your lack of interest, you seem on a mission to ignore.

ANNAreturns carrying three wine glasses, which she places on the floor.

ANNA. Not that I want you to feel compelled to listen to whatevergarbageI no doubt continually spewforth, but . . .

LYNN. I thought you’d finished.

ANNA. . . . every day, hearing myself, endlessly repeating stuff, stuff, I might add, which is drawn from that well of ten years experience, however useless that might be.

Pause.

LYNN. I thought you’d finished.

Pause.

ANNA. Which means what?

Pause.

LYNN. . . . which means . . . ?

ANNA. Which means you weren’t listening.

LYNN. Iwaslistening, I thought you’d finished.

Pause.

ANNA. So, where did I get to?

LYNN. Where do you always get to?

ANNA. No, you said you were listening, and if that’s true, then you’ll know what I said.

Pause.

So?

LYNN. What?

ANNA. What did I say?

Pause.

LYNN. I don’t know . . .

ANNA. Hah!

LYNN. . . . but it was probably something impressively clever.

ANNA. I knew it.

LYNN. You’re right . . .

ANNA. I knew you weren’t . . .

LYNN. I wasn’t listening, you win. (Pause.) Carry on.

Pause.

ANNA. Doesn’t matter.

LYNN. I’m listening now.

ANNA. I’ve forgotten it now.

LYNN. You’ve forgotten it?

ANNA. Probably wasn’t worth hearing anyway.

LYNN. Fair enough.

ANNA. Just me rambling away . . .

LYNN. That’s fair enough.

ANNA. . . . getting to where I always get to. Apparently.

She exits again, returns a few moments later with two bottles of wine, red and white, which she proceeds to uncork.

ANNA(as she enters).What I was saying, and I know you don’t want to hear it, and it’s probably lost allimpactby now, and the last thing I want is to is to . . . you know what I think about people whogeneralise, but all men, and I meanallmen, share a common affliction . . . somebody should write a book . . . in fact,I’llwrite it, and you know what I’ll call it? Hole Blindness – The Male Affliction.Because, and stop me if I’m wrong, but a man, any man, looks at a woman, any woman, what does he see? A hole to be filled. And that’s it. And it doesn’t matter what age the woman is, the old woman in the post office queue, drawing her pension –usedto be a hole to be filled, the young girl on the baby swing at the park – willbea hole to be filled, you go walking down the street with your skirt hitched up and your legs wide open, that, sweetheart, is a man. (Pause.) And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this – desire knows no boundaries. Class, race, sex,age, all invisible to your average male on a hole hunt. (Pause.) Sad thing is, they don’t even realise it, they, they what? Disguise, dress it up, romance, marriage, fancy underpants. (Pause.) The Love of a Caring Father, anything to make it look attractive, and believe me, they’re good at it, they know just the right buttons to press, convince you that you’re something more, but the bottom line, when everything’s stripped away, you’re a big pink gaping hole that must be filled.

Pause.

I mean, God knows, and I hope you’re listening, I hope you’rehearingthis, but I been through that, a million times, men, queuing down the street, bearing gifts, flies undone.

Pause.

But there comes a time when you you you wake up, I don’t mean from sleep, you’re not even asleep, but you wake up, from from what you’vebeen.

Pause.

You think, you think, is this what I am? This this this . . . hole? You’re wandering around like the walking dead, I know how that feels, believe me, but let me tell you, Lynn, you listening? Let me tell you, choosinglife, choosing tolive, that’s the hardest thing.

LYNN. I take it there’s a point to all of this.

Pause.

ANNA. A point? Of course there’s a point.

Pause.

LYNN. So, tell me.

ANNA. What?

LYNN. The point.

ANNA. The point?

LYNN. You said there was a . . .

ANNA. The point is, the point is I shouldn’t even have to explain what the point is.

LYNN. There isn’t one, is there?

ANNA. You shouldknowwhat the point is.

LYNN. You just open your mouth . . .

ANNA. By now, you should know.

LYNN. You just open your mouth . . .

ANNA. Okay, okay, you want a point? Here’s a point . . . how much do you really know? (Pause.) About men, about the nature of men, their desires, what scares them . . .

LYNN. Why would I want . . .

ANNA. You need to know, besure, becertain, and I know what I’m talking about, here, the way theywork, the tackytricks, your only defence?Knowwhat scares them.Knowwhat scares them, and you got them round the throat. What scares them? The same, the very same thing that they desire, which is? Lynn?

Pause.LYNNis searching through the box again.

The hole. The hole. Terrifies the living . . . it’s where they came from, and where they spend their entire bloody lives trying to get back to, scares the living death out of them, does he like red or white?

Pause.

Lynn?

LYNN. What?

ANNA. Does he like . . . (Pause.) You did it again.

LYNN. What?

ANNA. I don’t believe . . .

LYNN. What?

ANNA. Just now.

LYNN. What did I do?

ANNA. You stopped listening.

Pause.

LYNN. Just because I’m not talking doesn’t mean I’m not listening. (Pause.) In fact, I seem to remember that not talking is kind of an essentialpartof listening.

Pause.

ANNA. I asked you a question.

LYNN. I know.

ANNA. What was it?

Pause.

LYNN. You want me to repeat the question?

ANNA. What did I . . .

LYNN. You want me to . . .

ANNA. What did I say?

LYNN. What is this, some kind of test?

ANNA. What was the question?

Pause.

LYNN. Oh, I know what this is.

ANNA. You weren’t list . . .

LYNN. This is tonight, isn’t it?

Pause.

ANNA. . . . tonight . . . ?

LYNN. This is . . . just because I didn’t consult you . . .

Pause.

ANNA. Consult me? Why would you need to . . .

LYNN. Just because I didn’t . . .

ANNA. I mean, for God’s sake, Lynn . . .

LYNN. But this . . .

ANNA. Consult me?

LYNN. This . . .

ANNA. What does that say about me?

LYNN. It’s something I had to . . .

ANNA. What does that make me?

LYNN. Nowyou’rethe one that’s not . . .

ANNA. What the hell do I know anyway?

Pause.ANNApours herself a drink.

ANNA. Would you like one of these?

LYNN. What?

ANNA. A drink, would you like a . . . Would. You. Like. A. Drink?

Pause.

LYNN. Yes, thank you, I would.

Pause.

ANNA. Red or white?

LYNN. Doesn’t matter.

ANNA. You have a choice. There’s red, and on the other hand, there’s white.

LYNN. Whatever.

ANNA. Be a devil, make a choice.

LYNN. I don’t care.

ANNA. I know you like red.

LYNN. I’ll have red.

ANNA. But it’s always good to have a change.

LYNN. Okay, I’ll have white, then.

Pause.

ANNA. You hate white.

LYNN. So, why did you ask me?