UNIVERSITA’ DEGLI STUDI DI PERUGIA
Corso di laurea in MEDIAZIONE LINGUISTICA APPLICATA
CURRICULUM PER L’INTERPRETARIATO E LA TRADUZIONE
Facoltà di LETTERE E FILOSOFIA
TRADUZIONE PARZIALE DI
“OUR TOWN”
A Play in Three Acts by Thornton Wilder
Laureanda: Angeli Alessia
Relatrice: Prof.ssa Cifola Donatella
Co-Relatrice: Prof.ssa Vignati Annarita
ANNO ACCADEMICO 2004 – 2005
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CONTENTS
 Foreword
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 “OUR TOWN”. A Play in Three Acts by Thornton Wilder.
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 Afterword
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1. About the Playwright: Thornton Wilder
2. Main Characters of “Our Town”
3. Themes, Motifs, Symbols
4. “Our Town” from the Current Perspective
 Bibliography
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FOREWORD
It can be argued that the essence oh Thornton Wilder’s genius can be found in his
greatest and most acclaimed work, the American classic Our Town (1938).
Our Town chronicles the lives of the townspeople of Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire,
during three time periods – 1901, 1904, and 1913, respectively.
We meet the omnipresent Stage Manager, who stoically narrates on a nearly bare stage
the inevitable and yet unpredictable cycle of life, death, and all of the seemingly
mundane things in-between.
It is the simplicity of the play and the honesty of the prose that is so riveting and
ultimately heartbreaking in its scope.
Renowned theatre critic Brooks Atkinson’s words are just as accurate now as when he
first wrote them in his New York Times review of February 5, 1938, on the Broadway
premiere of Our Town:
“Mr Wilder has transmuted the simple events of human life into universal reveries. He
has given familiar facts a deeply moving, philosophical perspective … By stripping the
play of everything that is not essential, Mr Wilder has given it a profound, strange,
otherworldly significance … It is a hauntingly, beautiful play”.
The plot of Our Town is rather simple. In fact, some readers say there is no plot, that
what passes for a story is simply a few anecdotes illustrating life in Grover’s Corners.
As its title suggests, Our Town is a play about a typical town.
Act I is Daily Life. Our Town begins while people are still entering the theatre and
being seated.
A character known only as the Stage Manager enters a bare, partly lit stage. He puts a
table and three chairs stage left, and another table and three chairs stage right. Then he
adds a low bench stage left.
Our Town is simple, but also profound; it is full of genuine sentiment, which is not the
same as its being sentimental. And the event of the play is huge: it is life itself. Its
greatness can be deceptive: a bare stage, spare language, archetypal characters. “Our
claim, our hope, our despair are in the mind”, Wilder wrote, “not in scenery”. Indeed,
he begins the play with “No curtain, No scenery”.
It is important to recognize the thunderclap those words amounted to. Consider the
context: the play was written in 1937, when stage directions like that were still largely
unheard of in American dramaturgy. Wilder alone was challenging the potential of
theatre.
Thornton Wilder was a radical, a visionary. In his 1957 introduction to “Three Plays”,
Wilder wrote of the loss of theatregoing pleasure he began to experience in the decade
before writing “Our Town”, when he “ceased to believe in the stories [he] saw
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presented there … The theatre was not only inadequate, it was evasive … I found the
word for it: it aimed to be soothing. The tragic had no heat; the comic had no bite; the
social criticism failed to indict us with responsibility”.
Wilder set himself a formidable challenge. With two ladders, a few pieces of furniture,
and a minimum of crops, he attempted “to find a value above all price for the smallest
events in our daily life”. Actors mimed their stage business; a Stage Manager functioned
as both omniscient narrator and player.
These ideas were completely modern for American drama in 1937.
The perfection of the play starts with his title. Grover’s Corners belongs to all of us, it
becomes all towns. It is a play that captures the universal experience of being alive.
With “Our Town” Wilder catapulted the American drama into the 20th century.
After he finishes setting up, the Stage Manager leans against the wall at the side of the
stage and watches the audience. The houselights dim and he begins to speak. The first
thing he tells us is who wrote the play, who directed it, who’s playing what part. We are
not being allowed to forget that this is a play, not real life. The Stage Manager tells us
that we are peering in on Grover’s Corners, but we get the feeling that we could be in
any small town.
Then the Stage Manager takes us to Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire, just before
dawn on May 7, 1901. He describes the town, pointing to different parts of the stage.
As he’s describing the town, the Stage Manager says something odd: “[…] The first
automobile’s going to come along in five years, belonged to Banker Cartwright, our
richest citizen … lives in the big white house up on the hill”. We can notice the way
the verb tenses keep shifting. This is the first hint that something is happening with time
in this play.
The introduction establishes a familiarity between the world onstage and the world
offstage. The Stage Manager speaks directly to the audience, as if the audience members
are people passing through the town rather than distant, detached theatregoers.
The Stage Managers continues to describe the town, pointing out Doc Gibbs’ house,
then Editor Webb’s house, then the cemetery.
That juxtaposition of life and death is important in the play. It is repeated almost
immediately: the Stage Manager points out Doc Gibbs, coming on the stage. First he
tells us that Doc Gibbs is just coming home from delivering twins, and then he tells us
that Doc Gibbs died in 1930. He adds that Mrs Gibbs died first, “[…] long time ago, in
fact”, but we can’t see Mrs Gibbs on stage.
While the Stage Manager points out Doc Gibbs’ house, the stagehands push a pair of
trellises onto the stage. “[…] For those who think they have to have scenery”, the
Stage Manager comments. It is a joke, but it is also a reminder of Wilder’s theories
about the theatre.
We also hear a train whistle; the Stage Manager checks his watch and nods to the
audience.
Throughout “Our Town” there are stage directions for various sounds. One is that
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Wilder wants to encourage people to use imagination while watching this play, and
sound is a great trigger for imagination.
Before anything happens, before any of the characters actually say or do anything, the
Stage Manager has talked for a long time.
Finally something happens. The newsboy and the milkman are starting their round and
the Doctor is finishing his. They stop for a brief exchange of gossip. While this is going
on, Mrs Webb and Mrs Gibbs are in their kitchen, pantomiming the preparation for
breakfast.
The action in this section serve to establish a sense of the town’s atmosphere and the
temperament of its people. Moreover, Wilder’s presentation of the morning rituals of
two families and the activities of the town gives us insight into what the townspeople
lives look like not just on this morning, but perhaps on every morning. Wilder discusses
the importance of these daily activities throughout the remainder of the play. The
Gibbses and the Webbs represent two archetypal American families, just as Grover’s
Corners represents the archetypal small American town.
The two families’ homes are the only homes into which we are allowed to se, and their
ambitions and lives are the only ones to which we are given extended access.
Wilder chooses to portray two families so that he can emphasize their similarities. Both
homes have the same layout and the same number of chairs at the table. Both Mrs Gibbs
and Mrs Webb work in their respective gardens, just as both Doc Gibbs, as the town
doctor, and Mr Webb, as the editor of the local newspaper, occupy positions of social
status.
The simultaneity of life and death, past, present and future pervades “Our Town”. As
soon as we are introduced to Doc and Mrs Gibbs, the Stage Manager informs us of their
deaths.
While 11 year old Joe Crowell, the newsboy, enters, he and Doc Gibbs chat about the
weather, the boy’s teacher’s impending marriage, and the condition of his pesky knee.
The prosaic turns suddenly wrenching when the Stage Manager casually fills us in on
young Joe’s future, his scholarship to MIT, his graduating at the top of his class “[…]
Goin’ to be a great engineer, Joe was. But the war broke out and he died in France. All
that education for nothing”.
In just few eloquent sentences Wilder captures both the capriciousness of life and the
futility of war. The war Wilder referred to, of course, was the Great War.
Now it is breakfast time, and the children must prepare for school. Mrs Gibbs
complaints to her husband that George is not helping with the cores. Mrs Webb remind
Wally to was thoroughly. Rebecca does not want to wear her blue gingham dress.
George wants a raise in his allowance. Children are reminded to eat slowly and to finish
their breakfast.
Although the scene takes place at the start of the 20th century, the conversation is almost
timeless.
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Breakfast over, Mrs Gibbs fill her apron and goes out feed the chickens. Mrs Webb goes
out to sit in the garden while she strings her beans. Mrs Gibbs comes over to share the
task and to share her secret: a second-hand furniture man from Boston has offered Mrs
Gibbs $350 for her highboy. Mrs Webb think it is a wonderful chance, but Mrs Gibbs is
not entirely sure she wants the money. The only thing she really wants is for her
husband to accompany her on a trip to Paris. The problem is that she does not think he
will go. Mrs Gibbs says: “[…] It might male him discontented with Grover’s Corners
to be trapisin’ about Europe”. His idea of perfect vacation is visiting Civil War
battlefields. But Mrs Gibbs seems a bit tired of battlefields. Mrs Webb urges her to sell
the highboy and keep dropping hints.
The Stage Manager enters, interrupting the conversation between the two women and
sending them away. This is another reminder that this is a stage play, not real life.
Wilder constructs reality on the stage in such a way that the audience can easily relate to
what is taking place. At the same time, he constantly reminds us that this is a theatrical
production, a game that a group of people are playing on the stage. He wants us to
realize that the only things that are important in life happen inside of us.
Now the Stage Manager invites Professor Willard from the Sate University to sketch in
the town’s history. Briefly, we go from Archaezoic granite to the twins who had just
been born when the play began. In between we have the same sort of zigzag, from
sandstone outcroppings three hundred million years ago to Silas Peckham’s cow pasture,
from 10th century Cotahatchee tribes to possible traces in three families.
The Stage Manager dismisses Professor Willard and asks Editor Webb to come out. Mrs
Webb comes out instead to explain that her husband has just cut his hand and he will be
right out. Her impatient call: “Charles! Everybody’s waiting.” Is so believable that we
are immediately back in Grover’s Corners.
Mr Webb enters and offers some statistical information. The Stage Manager call for
questions from the audience(only actors are expected to respond). The Lady in the
Balcony asks about drinking; the Belligerent Man asks about social injustice; the Lady
in the Box asks about culture.
Professor Willard’s and Mr Webb’s direct address to the audience serve several
purposes.
First, the fact that the two men appear at the request of the Stage Manager establishes
the Stage Manager as an almost godlike authority within the text of the play. He appears
to manage everything that happens on the stage, halting the action at will, pulling
characters away from their daily activities to converse with the audience, ad asking
them to leave the stage when their presence is no longer required.
Second, Professor Willard’s and Mr Webb’s reports strengthen the bond between the
characters and the audience. The apparently spontaneous interaction between the
audience and Mr Webb indicates Wilder’s desire for the audience to feel included in the
daily life of Grover’s Corners.
Third, the presentation of facts about the town’s past and present complements the Stage
Manager’s own omniscient knowledge of the town’s events and his foresight of the
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character’s deaths.
Wilder implies that an accurate understanding of the town comes not only from meeting
its current inhabitants, but also from knowing its history.
Finally, the two reports underscore how remarkably ordinary the town is, and how
radically, ethnically, religiously, and politically homogenous.
The Stage Manager dismisses Mr Webb and announces a shift in time. Now it is early
afternoon. People have had dinner, all the dishes are washed. Mr Webb is mowing the
lawn (in pantomiming) and the children are coming home from school. On the way
home, George and Emily stop to talk. Emily is good at school and she promises to give
George some hints to help him.
Then Eily helps her mother with the stringing beans and asks one of the questions that
often bother young girls: “”[…] Am I pretty?” She can’t pry a satisfying answer from
her mother.
Now we are back with the Stage manager again. He tells us about the cornerstone of the
new bank. It will have a time capsule in it, so when people a thousand years from now
dig it up they will know about Grover’s Corners. In it will be a copy of The New York
Times and of Mr Webb’s Sentinel, a Bible, the Constitution of the United States, and a
copy o Shakespeare’s plays.
Than the Stage Manager asks to the audience: “[…] What do you say, folks? What do
you think?”.
We might notice that those items cover religion, politics, and culture, the same topics by
the questions from the audience.
The choir now begins to sing “Blessed Be The Tie That Binds”. They are being led by
Simon Stimson, the choirmaster and organist.
Two ladders have been pushed onto the stage; the suggest the second stories of the two
hoses. George and Emily each climb one and pantomime doing homework. Wilder
chose the traditional hymn “Blessed Be The Tie That Binds” for its words:
“Blessed be the tie that binds
Our heart in Christian Love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.
Before our Father’s throne
We pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one
Our comforts and our cares”
This hymn is used in each of the three acts (in Act II at the wedding, and in Act III at the
funeral). In part, the repetition of the song emphasizes Wilder’s notion of stability and
tradition. However, the Christian hymn primarily embodies Wilder’s belief that the love
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between human beings is divine in nature. The “tie” in the song’s lyrics refers to both tie
between humans and God and the tie among humans themselves. The three scenes that
include the hymn also prominently feature Emily and George, highlighting the tie that
binds the two of them.
Against the background of the choir rehearsal, Emily admires the moonlight and George
seeks help with his homework. He seems to be having a bit of trouble with it. Then Doc
Gibbs calls George down for a talk. George receives a lecture of responsibility. It is a
very kindly lecture, with far more love than harshness. Part of Doc Gibbs’ point is that
we do things for people because we love them, not because we will punished if de don’t.
Choir practice is over and the ladies come home. Mrs Webb and Mrs Gibbs stop to
gossip with Mrs Soames, who seems to enjoy being shocked at Simon Stimson’s
behaviour. He was drunk at choir practice, and it was not the first time. Mrs Webb and
Mrs Gibbs are more charitable, Mrs Webb saying that he is getting better, not worse.
They finally say good-bye. Mrs Gibbs returns home, and takes her husband into the
garden to enjoy the moonlight. She passes in the gossip about Simon Stimson. It is a
situation Doc Gibbs seems to be familiar with.
Mrs Gibbs makes some hints about her legacy and hopes for a vacation. She talks about
duty, not desire. But the doctor dismisses the idea and hurries her into the house.
There seems to be things unsaid here, just as between Emily and her mother. It is not
that these people do not love each other, but they seem to have trouble expressing their
feelings.
Rebecca climbs the ladder to join her brother. She wants to enjoy the moonlight too, the
same moonlight that Emily and the Gibbses enjoyed, the same moonlight that Constable
Warren and Mr Webb admire when they meet a moment later as Mr Webb is on his way
home from the newspaper. Constable Warren and Mr Webb also encounter Simon
Stimson, who appears and departs, silent and unsteady. Then the conversation shifts, and
Mr Webb asks Constable to keep an eye out of Wally, to make sure he does not smoke
cigarettes.
Rebecca tells her brother about a letter her friend Jane Crufut got from a minister. The
address said: Jane Crofut; the Crofut Farm; Grover’s Corners; Sutton County; New
Hampshire; United States of America.
George is not impressed. But that is not all, says Rebecca. It goes on: The United States
of America; Continent of North America; Western Hemisphere; the Earth, the Solar
System; the Universe; the Mind of God.
“What do you know!” exclaims George.
Wilder has taken us again from the trivial to the profound, from children doing
homework to the Mind of God. Wilder is reminding us that both the smallest and the
greatest exist side by side, and both have to be recognized.
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At the end of Act I, in solemn note, the Stage Manager steps out to say: “[…] You can
go and smoke now, those who smoke”.
At the start of Act II, called Love and Marriage, it is three years later, George and
Emily’s wedding day. The Stage Manager interrupts the frantic preparations to show us
“[…] how all this began … I’m awfully interested in how big things like that begin”.
And he takes us back in time to the drugstore-counter conversation the couple had
“[…] when they first knew that … they were meant for one another”. Once that event
is re-created, we return to the wedding itself. Emily asks her father: “[…] Why can’t I
stay for a while just as I am” expressing the child’s whish to prolong the charmed state
of childhood and stave off the harshness of the adult world.
The passage from Love and Marriage to Death is as abrupt and wrenching as it is in real
life. The people whose vitality moved and amused us before intermission are now coolly
seated in rows in the cemetery. Mrs Gibbs, Simon Stimson, and Mrs Soames, are all
dead now, as is Wally Webb.
Much as the soda-fountain flashbacks is the centrepiece of the second act.
Emily’s posthumous visit to the past in the middle of Act III provides the emotional
climax of the play. Newly deceased while giving birth to her second child, Emily wishes
to go back to a happy day and chooses her twelfth birthday. The dead warn her that such
a return can only be painful. The job of the dead, they tell her, is to forget the living.
Emily learns all too quickly that they are right and decides to join the indifferent dead.
Her farewell is one of the immortal moments in all of American drama:
“Good-bye, Good-bye, world. Good-bye, Grover’s Corners …Mama and Papa. Goodbye to clock ticking … and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed
dresses and hot baths … and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful
for anybody to realize you”.
While most readers identify with the content of the play simply through the dialogue,
Wilder arguments the play’s universality through the use of numerous theatrical
techniques when the play is actually performed. The minimal scenery and pantomimed
actions force each person to imagine objects that do not really exist. The imaginary
quality of these objects makes the play more universal, since we, as members of the
audience, can use our own sense of imagination to envision the props in our own way.
The flexibility engages the audience and personalizes “Our Town” for each viewer,
making the play more immediate and accessible.
The play’s very title contributes to this intimacy between the play and the audience. The
Stage Manager frequently refers to the setting as “our then” rather than Grover’s
Corners, especially in the introduction. By announcing the play’s author, director,
producer, and so on, and by breaking in on the action to move the play along, the Stage
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Manager destroys the illusion that the play depicts real life. Instead, the play depicts a
representative form of reality.
We in the audience need not to worry about suspending our disbelief because the Stage
Manager allows us to accept the imaginary nature of the play. We identify with the
characters in the play, but we identify even more with the Stage Manager.
Owing to the Stage Manager’s presence, a person watching a performance of “Our
Town” is likely to realize that the scenes onstage could be enacted anywhere, at any
time.
A number of scholars and reviewers have criticized the homogeneity of Grover’s
Corners, a largely white, Protestant town.
“Our Town” has been derided as an escapist fantasy that ignore the realities of the
racism, sexism, and economic hardship that defined American life during Wilder’s era
and that continues, to some degree, to identify American life today. Some of this
criticism may be somewhat merited. “Our Town” does not offer a serious critique of
social injustice. Nor does the play highlight the growing diversity in America at the
time.
While the Stage Manager mentions the presence of some Polish and Canuck (or FrenchCanadian) families in his open remarks in Act I, these families do not appear in the play,
and we do not hear of their experiences.
At the same time, Wilder appears to anticipate such criticism even within the play itself.
While the play may fail to address pressing social issues, it does not idealize the town
and its citizens.
The Belligerent man who questions Mr Webb attacks the townspeople’s apparent lack of
social activism. Similarly, Professor Willard provides a dark image of European
influences upon Native American populations: “[…] Yes … anthropological data:
Early Amerindian stock. Cotahatcheee tribes … no evidence before the tenth century of
this era … now entirely disappeared … “
Details such as these indicate Wilder’s intent to portray a community complete both with
virtues and flaws.
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“OUR TOWN”
A Play in Three Acts by Thornton Wilder
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CHARACTERS (in the order of their appearance)
STAGE MANAGER
DR GIBBS
JOE CROWELL
HOWIE NEWSOME
MRS GIBBS
MRS WEBB
GEORGE GIBBS
REBECCA GIBBS
WALLY WEBB
EMILY WEBB
PROFESSOR WILLARD
MR WEBB
WOMAN IN THE BALCONY
MAN IN THE AUDITORIUM
LADY IN THE BOX
SIMON STIMSON
MRS SOAMES
CONSTABLE WARREN
SI CROWELL
BASEBALL PLAYERS
SAM CRAIG
JOE STODDARD
The entire Play takes place in Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire
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PERSONAGGI (in ordine di entrata in scena)
DIRETTORE DI SCENA
DR GIBBS
JOE CROWELL
HOWIE NEWSOME
SIGN.RA GIBBS
SIGN.RA WEBB
GEORGE GIBBS
REBECCA GIBBS
WALLY WEBB
EMILY WEBB
PROFESSOR WILLARD
SIGN. WEBB
UNA DONNA IN GALLERIA
UN UOMO IN PLATEA
UNA DONNA IN UN PALCO
SIMON STIMSON
SIGN.RA SOAMES
AGENTE WARREN
SI CROWELL
GIOCATORI DI BASEBALL
SAM CRAIG
JOE STODDARD
L’intera commedia si svolge a Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire
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ACT I
No curtain.
No scenery.
The audience, arriving, sees an empty stage in half-light. Presently the STAGE MANAGER, hat
on and pipe in mouth, enters and begins placing a table and three chairs downstage left, and a
table and three chairs downstage right.
He also places a low bench at the corner of what will be the Webb house, left.
“Left” and “Right” are from the point of view of the actor facing the audience. “Up” is toward
the back wall.
As the house lights go down he has finished setting the stage and leaning against the right
proscenium pillar watches the late arrivals in the audience.
When the auditorium is in complete darkness he speaks:
STAGE MANAGER:
This play is called “Our Town”. It was written by Thornton Wilder; produced by A … (or:
produced by A …; directed by B …). In it you will find Miss C …; Miss D …; Miss E …; Mr F
…; Mr G …; Mr H …; and many others. The name of the town is Grover’s Corners, New
Hampshire – just across the Massachusetts line: latitude 42 degrees, 40 minutes; longitude 70
degrees, 37 minutes. The First Act shows a day in our town. The day is May 7, 1901. The time is
just before dawn.
A rooster crows.
The sky is beginning to show some streaks of light over in the East there, behind our mount’ in.
The morning star always gets wonderful bright the minute before it has to go,- doesn’t it?
He stares at it for a moment, then goes upstage.
Well, I’d better show you how our town lies. Up here –
That is: parallel with the back wall.
is Main Street. Way back there is the railway station; tracks go that way. Polish Town’s across
the tracks, and some Canuck families.
Toward the left.
Over there is the Congregational Church; across the street’s the Presbyterian.
Methodist and Unitarian are over there
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ATTO I
Non c’è sipario.
Anche la scenografia è assente.
Il pubblico, arrivando in sala, non vede altro che un palcoscenico vuoto in penombra.
Di lì a poco entra il DIRETTORE DI SCENA: cappello in testa e pipa in bocca, comincia a
sistemare un tavolo e tre sedie avanti a sinistra. Altrettanto a destra.
Posiziona anche una piccola panca nell’angolo a sinistra che rappresenterà la casa dei Webb.
“Sinistra” e “Destra” s’intendono dal punto di vista dell’attore rivolto al pubblico.”Su” indica
il muro che fa da sfondo.
Non appena le luci in sala si abbassano, il DIRETTORE DI SCENA ha finto di allestire il
palcoscenico e, poggiandosi contro il pilastro di destra del proscenio, osserva l’entrata dei
ritardatari tra il pubblico.
Quando la sala è in completa oscurità, comincia a parlare:
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Questa commedia è intitolata “Piccola Città”. E’ stata scritta da Thornton Wilder; prodotta e
diretta da A … ( oppure: prodotta da A …; diretta da B …). Qui vedrete la sig. na C …; la sig.na
D …; la sig.na E …; il sig. F …; il sig. G …; il sig. H …; e tanti altri.
La città si chiama Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire, proprio sulla linea di confine con il
Massachussets: latitudine 42 gradi , 40 minuti; longitudine 70 gradi, 37 minuti. Il Primo Atto
mostra una giornata tipica di questa città. E’ il 7 Maggio 1901. Sta per spuntare l’alba.
Un gallo canta.
Nel cielo si stagliano strisce di luce ad est, dietro la nostra montagna.
La stella del mattino brilla sempre di una luce più bella prima di scomparire, non vi sembra?
La fissa per un momento, poi va verso il fondo.
Bene, sarebbe meglio che vi mostri com’è situata la nostra città.
Qui in fondo
Vale a dire: parallelamente al muro di fondo.
c’è la Main Street. Dietro ancora c’è la ferrovia. I binari si dirigono da questa parte. Dall’altro
lato dei binari ferroviari troviamo il Quartiere Polacco e alcune famiglie Canuck.
Verso sinistra.
La Chiesa Congregazionista è da quella parte; quella Presbiteriana di là della strada.
La Metodista e quella Unitaria si trovano là.
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Baptist is down in the holla’ by the river.
Catholic Church is over beyond the tracks.
Here’s the Town Hall and the Post Office combined; jail’s in the basement.
Bryan once made a speech from these very steps here.
Along here’s a row of stores. Hitching posts and horse blocks in front of them. First automobile’s
going to come along in about five years – belonged to Banker Cartwright, our richest citizen …
lives in the big white house up on the hill.
Here’s the grocery store and here’s Mr Morgan’s drugstore. Most everybody in town manages to
look into those two stores once a day.
Public School’s over yonder. High School’s still farther over. Quarter of nine mornings,
noontimes and three o’clock afternoons, the hull town can hear the yelling and screaming from
those schoolyards.
He approaches the table and chairs downstage right.
This is our doctor’s house, - Doc Gibbs. This is the back door.
Two arched trellises, covered with vines and flowers, are pushed out, one by each proscenium
pillar.
There’s some scenery for those who think they have to have scenery.
This is Mrs Gibbs’ garden. Corn … peas … beans … holly-hocks … heliotrope … and a lot of
burdock.
Crosses the stage.
In those days our newspaper come out twice a week – the Grover’s Corners Sentinel – and this is
Editor Webb’s house.
And this is Mrs Webb’s garden.
Just like Mrs Gibbs’, only it’s got a lot of sunflowers, too.
He looks upward, centre stage.
Right here … ‘s a big butternut tree.
He returns to his place by the right proscenium pillar and looks at the audience for a minute.
Nice town, y’know what I mean?
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Quella Battista è più in basso, vicino al fiume.
La Chiesa Cattolica è oltre i binari.
Ecco l’edificio del Municipio e dell’Ufficio Postale; la prigione si trova nel piano interrato.
Una volta Bryan ha tenuto un discorso proprio su questi scalini.
Lungo la via principale troviamo una fila di negozi, con davanti pali e montatoi per i cavalli. La
prima automobile arriverà più o meno fra cinque anni; apparterrà al nostro più ricco cittadino, il
sig. Cartwright, banchiere … vive in quella grande casa bianca in cime alla collina.
Qui troviamo il droghiere e l’emporio del sig. Morgan. Quasi tutti entrano in questi due negozi
almeno una volta al giorno.
La scuola elementare è laggiù. La media, invece, un po’ più avanti. La mattina alle otto e tre
quarti, a mezzogiorno ed ancora alle tre del pomeriggi, le grida e il fracasso di quei cortili si
sentono in tutta la città.
Si avvicina al tavolo e alle sedie di destra.
Qui abbiamo la casa del nostro medico, il dr Gibbs. E questa è la porta di servizio.
Due graticci a forma d’arco, coperti di rampicanti e fiori, vengono spinti fuori e sistemati
rispettivamente accanto a ciascun pilastro del proscenio.
Ecco un po’ di scenario per chi crede ce ne sia bisogno.
Qui c’è il giardino della sig.ra Gibbs: grano … piselli … fagioli … roselline … valeriana e anche
molte erbacce.
Attraversa il palcoscenico.
In questi giorni il nostro giornale locale, il Grover’s Corners Sentinel, è distribuito due volte la
settimana … e questa è la casa dell’editore, il sig. Webb.
E qua c’è il giardino della sig.ra Webb.
E’ come quello della sig.ra Gibbs, l’unica differenza è che qui troviamo anche dei girasoli.
Guarda verso l’alto, rivolto al centro della scena.
Proprio qui c’è un grande albero di noce.
Torna al suo posto vicino al pilastro di destra del proscenio e guarda il pubblico per un minuto.
Una bella città, vero?
17
Nobody very remarkable ever come out of it, s’ far as I know.
The earliest tombstones in the cemetery up there on the mountain say 1670 – 1680 –
they’re Grovers and Cartwrights and Gibbses and Herseys – same names as are around
here now.
Well, as I said: it’s about dawn.
The only lights on in town are in a cottage over by the tracks where a Polish mother’s just
had twins. And in the Joe Crowell house, where Joe Junior’s getting up so as to deliver
the paper. And in the depot, where Shorty Hawkins is getting’ ready to flag the 5:45 for
Boston.
A train whistle is heard. The STAGE MANAGER takes out his watch and nods.
Naturally, out in the country – all around – there’ve been lights on for some time, what
with milkin’s and so on. But town people sleep late.
So – another day’s begun.
There’s Doc Gibbs comin’ down Main Street now, comin’ back from that baby case. And
here’s his wife comin’ downstairs to get breakfast.
MRS GIBBS, a plump, pleasant woman in the middle thirties, comes “downstairs” right.
She pulls up an imaginary window shade in her kitchen and starts to make a fire in her
stove.
Doc Gibbs died in 1930. The new hospital’s named after him.
Mrs Gibbs died first – long time ago, in fact. She went out to visit her daughter, Rebecca,
who married an insurance man in Canton, Ohio, and died there – pneumonia – but her
body was brought back here. She’s up in the cemetery there now – in with a whole mess
of Gibbses and Herseys – she was Julia Hersey ‘fore she married Doc Gibbs in the
Congregational Church over there.
In our town we like to know the facts about everybody.
There’s Mrs Webb, coming downstairs to get her breakfast, too.
- That’s Doc Gibbs. Got that call at half past one this morning.
And there comes Joe Crowell Jr, delivering Mr Webb’s Sentinel.
DR GIBBS has been coming along Main Street from the left. At the point where he would
turn to approach his house, he stops, sets down hi – imaginary – black bag, takes off his
hat, and rubs his face with fatigue, using an enormous handkerchief.
18
Stando a ciò che si ricorda non c’è mai stato nessuno di così importante.
Le date più antiche sulle tombe del cimitero lassù sulla montagna segnano 1670 – 1680: sono i
Grover, i Cartwright, i Gibbs, gli Hersey … gli stessi nomi che si sentono ancora oggi.
Come ho già detto, è quasi l’alba.
Le uniche luci accese in città sono quelle di una casetta di là dai binari dove una madre polacca
ha appena avuto due gemelli. E quelle nella casa di Joe Crowell, dove Joe Junior si sta’alzando
per la consegna dei giornali. Anche alla stazione si scorgono dei fari, infatti Shorty Howkins è
pronto per annunciare il treno delle 5:45 per Boston.
Si sente il fischio di un treno. Il DIRETTORE DI SCENA estrae l’orologio e annuisce.
Naturalmente in campagna le luci sono accese già da un po’, per via della mungitura e altre cose
simili. Ma in città si dorme fino a tardi.
Dunque, un altro giorno è cominciato.
Ecco laggiù, in fondo alla Main Street, il dr Gibbs che torna dalla nottata. Ed ecco anche sua
moglie che scende in cucina per preparare la colazione.
La SIG.RA GIBBS, una donna paffuta, di bell’aspetto, intorno ai trentacinque anni, scende “al
piano di sotto” a destra. Apre le immaginarie persiane della finestra della cucina e comincia ad
accendere il fuoco nella stufa.
Il dr Gibbs morì nel 1930. Dopo la sua morte è stato costruito un ospedale in sua memoria.
La sig.ra Gibbs morì prima … molto tempo fa, in effetti. Si era recata a Canton, nell’Ohio, per far
visita a sua figlia Rebecca, sposata con un assicuratore, e morì lì – di polmonite. Ma la sua salma
fu riportata qui. Adesso riposa nel cimitero insieme agli altri Gibbs e agli altri Hersey … Già,
perché prima di sposare il dr Gibbs nella Chiesa Congregazionista, si chiamava Julia Hersey.
In città ci piace essere informati su tutti.
Anche la sig.ra Webb sta scendendo per preparare la colazione.
Eccolo qui il dr Gibbs. Quella chiamata l’ha ricevuta all’una e trenta di questa mattina.
Arriva Joe Crowell Jr a consegnare il Sentinel del sig. Webb.
Il DR GIBBS entra in Main Street da sinistra. Nel punto in cui avrebbe dovuto svoltare per
raggiungere casa sua, si ferma e posa un’immaginaria borsa nera; poi si toglie il cappello e si
passa sulla faccia un grande fazzoletto, con aria stanca.
19
MRS WEBB, a thin, serious, crisp woman, has entered her kitchen, left, tying on an apron. She
goes through the motions of putting wood into a stove, lighting it, and preparing breakfast.
Suddenly, JOE CROWELL JR, eleven, starts down Main Street from the right, hurling imaginary
newspaper into doorways.
JOE CROWELL,JR:
Morning, Doc Gibbs.
DR GIBBS:
Morning, Joe.
JOE CROWELL,JR:
Somebody been sick, Doc?
DR GIBBS:
No. Just some twins born over in Polish Town.
JOE CROWELL, JR:
Do you want your paper now?
DR GIBBS:
Yes, I’ll take it. – Anything serious goin’ on in the world since Wednesday?
JOE CROWELL, JR:
Yessir. Mt schoolteacher, Miss Foster, ‘s getting married to a fella over in Concord.
DR GIBBS:
I declare. – How do you boys feel about that?
JOE CROWELL, JR:
Well, of course, it’s none of my business – but I think if a person starts out to be a teacher, she
ought to stay one.
DR GIBBS:
How’s your knee, Joe?
JOE CROWELL, JR:
Fine, Doc, I never think about it at all. Only like you said, it always tells me when it’s going to
rain.
DR GIBBS:
What’s it telling you today? Goin’ to rain?
JOE CROWELL, JR:
No, sir.
20
La SIG.RA WEBB, una donna magra dall’aspetto serio e i movimenti nervosi, è entrata nella
cucina, a sinistra, allacciandosi un grembiule. Fa il gesto di mettere della legna nella stufa,
accenderla e preparare la colazione.
Improvvisamente Joe Crowell Jr, undici anni appena, appare nella Main Street da destra,
lanciando giornali immaginari sulla soglia delle case.
JOE CROWELL JR:
‘giorno, dr Gibbs
DR GIBBS:
‘giorno, Joe.
JOE CROWELL JR:
E’ stato male qualcuno, dottore?
DR GIBBS:
No, sono nati due gemelli nel Quartiere Polacco.
JOE CROWELL JR:
Lo prende adesso il suo giornale?
DR GIBBS:
Si, grazie. E’ successo qualcosa di interessante nel mondo da mercoledì scorso?
JOE CROWELL JR:
Sissignore. La mia insegnante, la sig.na Foster, so sposa con uno di Concord.
DR GIBBS:
Pensa un po’ … e voi ragazzi come vi sentite all’idea?
JOE CROWELL JR:
Certo, non è affar mio .. ma credo che se una persona decide di fare l’insegnante, poi dovrebbe
continuare a farlo.
DR GIBBS:
Come va il ginocchio, Joe?
JOE CROWELL JR:
Bene dottore, ora non ci penso più. Solo che avevate ragione: mi avverte sempre quando sta per
piovere.
DR GIBBS:
Oggi cosa ti dice, pioverà?
JOE CROWELL JR:
Nossignore.
21
DR GIBBS:
Sure?
JOE CROWELL, JR:
Yessir.
DR GIBBS:
Knee ever made a mistake?
JOE CROWELL, JR:
No, sir.
JOES goes off. DR GIBBS stands reading his paper.
STAGE MANAGER:
Want to tell you something about that boy, Joe Crowell there. Joe was awful bright – graduated
from high school here, head of his class. So he got a scholarship to Massachusetts Tech.
Graduated head of his class there, too. It was all wrote up in the Boston paper at that time. Goin’
to be a great engineer, Joe was, but the war broke out and he died in France. – All that education
for nothing.
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Off left.
Giddap, Bessie! What’s the matter with you today?
STAGE MANAGER:
Here come Howie Newsome, deliverin’ the milk.
HOWIE NEWSOME, about thirty, in overalls, comes along Main Street from the left, walking
beside an invisible horse and wagon and carrying an imaginary rack with milk bottles. The sound
of clinking milk bottles is heard. He leaves some bottles at Mrs Webb’s trellis, the, crossing the
stage to Mrs Gibbs’s, he stop in the centre to talk to Dr Gibbs.
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Morning, Doc.
DR GIBBS:
Morning, Howie
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Somebody sick?
DR GIBBS:
Pair of twins over to Mrs Goruslawski’s.
22
DR GIBBS:
Sicuro?
JOE CROWELL JR:
Sissignore.
DR GIBBS:
Il ginocchio non sbaglia mai?
JOE CROWELL, JR:
Nossignore
JOE se ne va. Il DR GIBBS rimane in piedi a leggere il suo giornale.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Voglio raccontarvi qualcosa a proposito di quel ragazzo, Joe Crowell. Era straordinariamente
intelligente, il primo della classe. Frequentò qui le scuole medie e vinse una borsa di studio per il
Politecnico del Massachussets. Anche lì il primo della classe, laurea con lode. Ne parlarono
persino i giornali di Boston. Sarebbe diventato di sicuro un ottimo ingegnere, ma scoppiò la
guerra e lui morì in Francia. Tanto studio per niente.
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Da sinistra.
Buona Bessie, che ti prende oggi?
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Ecco Howie Newsome che viene a portare il latte.
HOWIE NEWSOME, circa trent’anni, in tuta da lavoro, viene lungo la Main Street da sinistra,
camminando accanto a un cavallo invisibile che traina un carro immaginario, e fingendo di
portare in mano una cesta con delle bottiglie di latte. Si sente il rumore delle bottiglie che
sbattono. Ne lascia alcune vicino ai graticci della sig.ra Webb poi, attraversando il palcoscenico
per dirigersi verso casa della sig.ra Gibbs, si ferma al centro per parlare con il dr Gibbs.
HOWIE NEWSOME:
‘giorno dottore!
DR GIBBS:
‘giorno Howie!
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Qualcuno sta male?
DR GIBBS:
La sig.ra Goruslawski ha avuto due gemelli.
23
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Twins, eh? This town’s gettin’ bigger every year.
DR GIBBS:
Goin’ to rain, Howie?
HOWIENESOME:
No,no. Fine day – that’ll burn through. Come on, Bessie.
DR GIBBS:
Hello Bessie.
He strokes the horse, which is remained up centre.
How old is she, Howie?
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Going on seventeen. Bessie’s all mixed up about the route ever since the Lockharts stopped takin’
their quart of milk every day. She wants to leave ‘em a quart just the same – keeps scolding me
the hull trip.
He reaches Mrs Gibbs’ back door. She is waiting for him.
MRS GIBBS:
Good morning, Howie.
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Good morning, Mrs Gibbs. Doc’s just coming down the street.
MRS GIBBS:
Is he? Seems like you’re late today.
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Yes. Somep’n went wrong with the separator. Don’t know what it was.
He passes Dr Gibbs up centre.
Doc!
DR GIBBS:
Howie!
MRS GIBBS:
Calling upstairs.
Children! Children! Time to get up.
24
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Gemelli, eh? Questa città diventa ogni anno più grande.
DR GIBBS:
Secondo te pioverà?
HOWIE NEWSOME:
No, sarà una bella giornata. Sole tutto il giorno. Andiamo Bessie.
DR GIBBS:
Salve Bessie
Accarezza il cavallo che è rimasto al centro.
Quanti anni ha?
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Va per i diciassette. Da quando i Lockart hanno smesso di prendere il loro latte tutti i giorni, si
sente disorientata. Vorrebbe lasciarglielo come facevamo di solito … e continua a protestare per
tutta la strada.
Raggiunge la porta di servizio della sig.ra Gibbs che lo sta aspettando.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Buongiorno Howie.
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Buongiorno sig.ra Gibbs. Il dottore sta arrivando.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Bene. Mi sembra che tu sia in ritardo oggi.
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Già. Ho avuto dei problemi con la separatrice ... ma non sodi cosa si trattasse ...
Ripassa accanto al dr Gibbs che è rimasto al centro.
Dottore ...
DR GIBBS:
Howie ...
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Rivolgendosi al piano di sopra
Ragazzi! ragazzi! E' ora di alzarsi!
25
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Come on, Bessie!
He goes off right.
MRS GIBBS:
George! Rebecca!
DR GIBBS arrives at his back door and passes through the trellis into his house.
MRS GIBBS:
Everything all right, Frank?
DR GIBBS:
Yes. I declare - easy as kittens.
MRS GIBBS:
Bacon'll be ready in a minute. Set down and drink your coffee. You can catch a couple of hours'
sleep this morning, can't you?
DR GIBBS:
Hm! ... Mrs Wentworth's coming at eleven. Guess I know what it's about, too. Her stummick ain't
what it ought to be.
MRS GIBBS:
All told, you won't get more'n three hours' sleep. Frank Gibbs, I don't know what's goin' to
become of you. I do wish I could get you go away some place and take a rest. I think it would do
you good.
MRS WEBB:
Emileeee! Time to get up! Wally! Seven o' clock!
MRS GIBBS:
I declare, you got to speak to George. Seems like something's come over him lately. He's no
helping at all. I can't even get him to cut me some wood.
DR GIBBS:
Washing and drying his hands at the sink. MRS GIBBS is busy at the stove.
Is he sassy to you?
MRS GIBBS:
No, He just whines! All he thinks about is that baseball - George! Rebecca! You'll be late for
school.
DR GIBBS:
M-m-m ...
26
HOWIE NEWSOME:
Vieni Bessie, andiamo!
Esce verso destra
SIG.RA GIBBS:
George! Rebecca!
Il dr Gibbs arriva alla sua porta di servizio e passa attraverso i graticci per entrare in casa.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Tutto bene, Frank?
DR GIBBS:
Tutto bene, è stato facile come far nascere dei gattini.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
La pancetta sarà pronta in un minuto. Siediti e bevi il tuo caffè. Non puoi dormire neanche per un
paio d'ore stamattina?
DR GIBBS:
Hm! ... La sig.ra Wentworth arriva alle undici. Credo si tratti ancora di quei suoi mal di stomaco.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Avrai dormito si e no tre ore. Non so davvero cosa ne sarà di te Frank Gibbs. Spero di riuscire a
convincerti a fare una vacanza e riposasrti. Sono sicura che ti farebbe bene.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Emiliiii! E' ora di alzarsi! Wally! Sono le sette!
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Devi parlare con George. Non riesco a capire cos'ha daun pò di tempo. Non mi è di alcun aiuto,
non c'è neanche verso di fargli tagliare un pò di legna.
DR GIBBS:
Si lava le mani nel lavandino e le asciuga. La SIG.RA GIBBS è affaccendata alla stufa.
Ti risponde male?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
No, ma non fa altro che piagnucolare! Pensa solo al baseball ... George! Rebecca! Farete tardi a
scuola!.
DR GIBBS:
M-m-m ...
27
MRS GIBBS:
George!
DR GIBBS:
George! Look sharp!
GEORGE'S VOICE:
Yes, Pa.
DR GIBBS:
As he goes off the stage.
Don't you hear your mother calling you? I guess I'll go upstairs and get forty winks.
MRS WEBB:
Walleee! Emiliii! You'll be late for school! Walleee! You wash yourself good or I'll come up and
do it myself.
REBECCA GIBB'S VOICE:
Ma! What dress shall I wear?
MRS GIBBS:
Don't make a noise. Your father's been out all night and needs his sleep. I washed and ironed the
blue gingham dress for you special
REBECCA:
Ma, I hate that dress.
MRS GIBBS:
Oh, hush-up-with-you.
REBECCA:
Every day I go to school dressed like a sick turkey.
MRS GIBBS:
Now, Rebecca, you always look very nice.
REBECCA:
Mama, George0s throwing soap at me.
MRS GIBBS:
I'll come and slap the both of you, - that's what I'll do.
A factory whistle sound.
The CHILDREN dash in and take their places at the table. Right, GEORGE, about sixteen, and
REBECCA, eleven. Left, EMILY, and WALLY, same ages. They carry strapped schoolbooks.
28
SIG.RA GIBBS:
George!
DR GIBBS:
George, sbrigati!
LA VOCE DI GEORGE:
Si, papà, arrivo.
DR GIBBS:
Uscendo.
Non avete sentito vostra madre? Credo che andrò di sopra a fare un sonnellino.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Walliii! Emileee! Farete tardi a scuola! Walliii! Lavati per bene da solo oppure salgo e lo faccio
io.
VOCE DI REBECCA GIBBS:
Mamma! Che vestitto mi metto?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Non urlare così! Vostro padre ha bisogno di dprmire, è stato in piedi tuttala notte. Ti ho lavato e
stirato il vestito blu di percalle che ti piace tanto.
REBECCA:
Odio quel vestito!
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Ma finiscila!
REBECCA:
Ogni giorno vado a scuola vestita come un burattino.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Non è vero, sei sempre molto carina.
REBECCA:
Mamma, George mi tira il sapone!
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Ora salgo e vi prendo a schiaffi, ecco cosa farò!
Sirena di fabbrica.
I RAGAZZI entrano di corsa e si siedono ai loro tavoli. A destra GEORGE, quasi sedici anni, e
REBECCA, undici; a sinistra EMILY e WALLY, stessa età. Portano con loro dei libri legati con
una cinghia.
29
STAGE MANAGER:
We've got a factory in our town too - hear it? Makes blankets. Cartwrights own it and it brung'em
a fortune.
MRS WEBB:
Children! Now I won't have it. Breakfast is just as good as any other meal and I won't have you
gobbling like wolves. It'll stunt your growth, - that's the fact. Put away your book, Wally.
WALLY:
Aw, Ma! By ten o'clock I got to know all about Canada.
MRS WEBB:
You know the rule's well as I do - no books at table. As for me, I'd rather have my children
healthy than bright.
EMILY:
I'm both, Mama: you know I am. I'm the brightest girl in school for my age. I have a wonderful
memory.
MRS WEBB:
Eat your breakfast.
WALLY:
I'm bright, too, when I'm looking at my stamp collection.
MRS GIBBS:
I'll speak to your father about it when he's rested. Seems to me twenty-five cents a week's enough
for a boy your age. I declare I don't know how you spend it all.
GEORGE:
Aw, Ma, - I gotta lotta things to buy.
MRS GIBBS:
Strawberry phosphates - that's what you spend it on.
GEORGE:
I don't see how Rebecca comes to have so much money. She has more'n dollar.
REBECCA:
Spoon in mouth, dreamly.
I've been saving it up gradual.
MRS GIBBS:
Well, dear, I think it's a good thing to spend some every now and then.
30
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
C'è anche una fabbrica in città, la sentite? Vi si producono coperte. E' di proprietà dei Cartwrighte
ci hanno gadagnato una fortuna.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Ragazzi! Così non va bene. La colazione è un pasto importante come gli altri, quindi non voglio
vedervi mangiare come lupi. Vi fa male per la crescita, ecco cosa. Wally, metty via quel libro.
WALLY:
Ma Mamma!Entro le dieci devo sapere tutto sul Canada!
SIG.RA WEBB:
Conosci le regole tanto quanto me: niente libri a tavola. Poi voglio che i miei ragazzi crescano
sani prima ancora che intelligenti.
EMILY:
Io sono sia l'uno che l'altro, lo sai. sono la ragazza più intelligente della scuola per la mia età, ho
una memoria formidabile
SIG.RA WEBB:
Manga la colazione adesso.
WALLY:
Anche io sono bravo, per esempio nel collezionare francobolli.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Ne parlerò con tuo padre dopo che si sarà riposato. Io credo che un quarto di dollaro alla
settimana sia più che sufficiente per un ragazzo della tua età. Sinceramente, non riesco a capire in
che modo tu spenda tutto.
GEORGE:
M Mamma! Ho un sacco di cosa da comprare.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Gelati alla fragola ... ecco dove finoscono i tuoi soldi.
GEORGE:
Nonso come faccia Rebecca ad avere tanti soldi ... possiede più di un dollaro!
REBECCA:
Cucchiaio in bocca, con aria sognante.
Li ho risparmiati un pò alla volta.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Sai tesoro, credo sia giusto spenderne un pò una volta ogni tanto.
31
REBECCA:
Mama, do you know what I lovemost in the world - do you? Money.
MRS GIBBS:
Eat your breakfast.
THE CHILDREN:
Mama, there's first bell. - I gotta hurry. - I don't want any more. - I gotta hurry.
The CHILDREN rise, seize their books and dash out through the trallises. They meet,
down centre, and chattering, walk to main Street, then turn left.
The STAGE MANAGER goes off, inobtrusively, right.
MRS WEBB:
Walk fast, but you don't have to run. Wally, pull up ypur pants at the knee. Stand up
straight, Emily.
MRS GIBBS:
Tell Miss Foster I send her my best congratulations - can you remember that?
REBECCA:
Yes, Ma.
MRS GIBBS:
You look real nice, Rebecca. Pick up your feet.
ALL:
Good-by.
MRS GIBBS fills her apron with food for the chickens and comes down to the footlights.
MRS GIBBS:
Here, chick, chick, chick.
No, go away you. Go away.
Here, chick, chick, chick.
What's the,atter with you? Fight, fight, fight, - that's all you do.
Hm ... you don't belong to me. Where'd come from?
She shakes her apron.
Oh, don't be so scared. Nobody's going to hurt you.
MRS WEBB is sitting on the bench by her trellis, stringing beans.
Good morning, Myrtle. How's your cold?
32
REBECCA:
Mamma, sai qual'è la cosa che amo di più al mondo? I soldi!
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Forza, finisci di mangiare.
I RAGAZZI:
E' la prima campanella ... devo sbrigarmi ... non ne voglio più ... devo andare!
I RAGAZZI si alzano, prendono i libri e corrono fuori dai graticci. S'incontrano al centro del
palco e, chiacchierando, camminano verso la Main Street e poi girano a sinistra.
Il DIRETTORE DI SCENA esce, senza dare nell'occhio, da destra.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Affrettatevi adesso, ma senza correre. Waaly tirati su i pantaloni al ginocchio. e tu stai dritta
Emily.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Dìalla sig.na Foster che le faccio le mie pià sincere congratulazioni. Te ne ricorderai?
REBECCA:
Si, mamma!
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Sei molto carina, Rebecca. Non trascinare i piedi.
TUTTI:
Ciao.
La SIG.RA GIBBS riempie il grembiule con del mangime per le galline e avanza fino alla ribalta.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Venite qui, pio, pio ,pio!
No tu no. Vai via.
Qui, pio, pio, pio!
Che cosa vuoi tu? Non fai altro che dare gastidio.
Hm ... e poi non sei una della mie galline ... da dove salti fuori?
Scrolla il grembiule:
Non aver paura, nessuno to farà del male.
La SIG.RA WEBB è seduta sulla oanca vicino al suo graticcio e ha cominciato a sgranare i
fagioli.
Buongiono Myrtle. Come va il raffreddore?
33
MRS WEBB:
Well, I still get that tickling feeling in my throat. I told Charles I didn't know as I'd go to choir
practice tonight. Wouldn't be any use.
MRS GIBBS:
Have you tried singing over your voice?
MRS WEBB:
Yes, but somehow I can't do that and stay on the key. While I'm resting myself I thought I'd string
some of these beans.
MRS GIBBS:
Rolling up here sleeves as she crosses the stage for a chat.
Let me help you. Beans have been good this year.
MRS WEBB:
I've decided to put up forty quarts if it kills me. The children say they hate'em but I notice they're
able to get'em down all winter.
Pause. Brief sound of chickens cackling.
MRS GIBBS:
Now, Myrtle. I've got to tell you something, because if i don't tell somebody I'll burst.
MRS WEBB:
Why, Julia Gibbs!
MRS GIBBS:
Here, give me some of those beans. Myrtle, did one of those secondhand-furniture men from
Boston come to see you last Friday?
MRS WEBB:
No-o.
MRS GIBBS:
Well, he called on me. First I thought he was a patient waitin' to see Doc Gibbs. 'N he wormed his
way into my parlor, and, Myrtle Webb, he offered me three hundred and fifty dollars for
Grandmother Wentworth's highboy, as I'm sitting here!
MRS WEBB:
Why Julia Gibbs!
MRS GIBBS:
He did it! That old thing! Why it was so big I dodn't know where to put it and I almost give it to
Cousin Hester Wilcox.
34
SIG.RA WEBB:
Sento ancora quel pizzicore alla gola. Ho detto a Charles che non so se andrò alle prove del coro
stasera. A cosa servirebbe?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Avete provato a cantare di testa?
SIG.RA WEBB:
Si, ma se lo faccio non riesco a rimanere in tono. Mentre mi riposo colgo l'occasione per sgranare
questi fagioli.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Mentre si arrotola le maniche attraversa la scena per ua chiacchierata.
Lasciate che vi aiuti. Questa è stata un'annata buona per la raccolta dei fagioli.
SIGN.RA WEBB:
Già. Ho deciso di metterne da parte almeno due sacchi, costi quel che costi. I miei figli dicono di
odiarli, ma ho visto che li hanno mangiati per tutto l'inverno.
Pausa. Breve rumore di galline che chiocciano.
SIGN.RA GIBBS:
Myrtle, devo dirvi una cosa; sento che scoppierò se non ne parlo con qualcuno.
SIGN.RA WEBB:
Che è successo, Julia?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Datemi altri fagioli. Myrtle, per caso venerdì scorso è passato da voi uno di quei commercianti di
Boston che comprano mobili usati?
SIG.RA WEBB:
No.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Beh, è venuto a farmi visita. All'inizio pensavo fosse un paziente in cerca di mio marito. Poi,
però, è entrato in salotto e mi ha offerto trecentocinquanta dollari per il cassettono della nonna
Wentworth, quant'è vero che ora sono seduta qui!
SIG.RA WEBB:
Veramente?
SIGN.RA GIBBS:
Propio così! Quel vecchio mobile! Era così grande che non sapevo dove metterlo, stavo quasi per
regalarlo a mia cugina Hester Wilcox.
35
MRS WEBB:
Well, you're going to take it, aren't you?
MRS GIBBS:
I don't know.
MRS WEBB:
You don't know - three hundred and fifty dollars! What's come over you?
MRS GIBBS:
Well, if I could get the Doctor to take the money and go away some place on a real trip, I?d sell it
like that. - Y'know, Myrtle, it's been the dream of my life to see Paris, France. - Oh, I don't know.
It sounds crazy, I suppose, but for years I've been promising myself that if we ever had the chance
MRS WEBB:
How does the Doctor feel about it?
MRS GIBBS:
Well, I did beat about the bush a little and said that if I got a legacy - that's the way I put it- I'd
make him take me somewhere.
MRS WEBB:
M-m-m ... What did he say?
MRS GIBBS:
You know how hw is. I haven'theard a serious wprd out of him since I've known him. No, he
said, it might make him discontented with Grover's Corners to go traipisin' about Europe; better
let well enough alone, he says. Every two years he makes a trip to the battlefields of the Civil
War and that's enough treat for anybody, he says.
MRS WEBB:
Well, Mr Webb just admires the way Dr. Gibbs knows everything about the Civil War. Mr
Webb's a good mind to give up Napoleon and move over to the Civil War, only Dr Gibbs being
one of the greatest experts in the country just makes him despair.
MRS GIBBS:
It's a fact! Dr Gibbs is never so happy as when he's at Antietam or Gettysburg. The times I've
walked over those hills, Myrtle, stopping at avery bush and pacing it all out, like we were going
to buy it.
MRS WEBB:
Well, if that secondhand man's really serious about buyin' it, Julia, you sell it. And then you'll get
to see Paris, all right. Just keep droppin' hints from time to time - that's how I got to see the
Atlantic Ocean, y' know.
MRS GIBBS:
Oh, I'm sorry I mentioned it. Only it seems to me that once in your life before you die you ought
to see a country where they don't speak in English and don't even want to.
36
SIG.RA WEBB:
Lo venderete, vero?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Non lo so.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Come sarebbe a dire che non lo sapete? Stiamo parlando di trecentocinquanta dollari!
SIGN.RA GIBBS:
Se solo riuscissi a convincere il dr Gibbs ad accettare i soldi e fare un viaggio vero, lo venderei
all'istante ... Sapete, Myrtle, vedere Parigi e la Francia è sempre stato il sogno della mia vita. Non
lo so. Sembrerà sciocco, ma per anni mi sono ripromessa che se avessimo avuto l'occasione ...
SIG.RA WEBB:
Il dr Gibbs cosa pensa in proposito?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Diciamo che cercato di accennargli un pò la cosa. Gli ho detto che se mi fosse toccata una certa
eredità ... mi sarebbe piaciuto che mi avesse portata da qualche parte.
SIG.RA WEBB:
M-m-m ... lui cos'ha risposto?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Sapete com'è fatto. Da quando lo conosco non ho mai sentito una sola parola seria uscire dalla
sua bocca. Ha detto che si sentirebbe in colpa nei cofronti di Grover's Corners se se ne andasse in
giro per l'Europa. Dice che è meglio lasciar perdere. Ogni due anni si fa la sua bella gita ai campi
di battaglia della Guerra Civile ed è convinto che questa sia una cosa di cui tutti dovrebbero
accontentarsi.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Il sig Webb ammira il dr Gibbs per la sua conoscenza così approfondita sulla Guerra Civile.
Aveva persino deciso di lasciar perdere Napoleone per dedicarvisi, ma è scoraggiato dal fatto che
il dr Gibbs è uno dei più grandi esperti di tutto il paese.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
E' un dato di fatto: il dottore non è mai così felice come quando si trova ad Antietam o a
Gettysburg. Sapeste tutte le volte che ho camminato su quelle colline, fermandoci ad ogni
cespuglio e misurando tutto il terreno come se avessimo dovuto comprarlo!
SIG.RA WEBB:
Ascoltatemi: se questo commerciante è seriamente intenzionato a comprare il cassettone, allora
Julia voi vendeteglielo. Così potrete finalmente vedere Parigi. Bisogna continuare ad insistere .. è
così che sono riuscita a vedere l'Oceano Atlantico.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Veramente ora mi spiace di avergliene parlato.E' solo che sono convinta che almeno una volta
nella vita, prima di morire, bisognerebbe visitare un paese dove non si parli e non si abbia
intenzione di parlare inglese.
37
The STAGE MANAGER enters briskly from the right. He tips his hat to the ladies, who nod their
heads.
STAGE MANAGER:
Thank you, ladies. Thank you very nuuch.
MRS GIBBS and MRS WEBB gather up their things, return into their homes and disappear.
Now we're going to skip a few hours.
But first we want a little more information about the town, kind of a scientific account, you might
say.
So I've asked Professor Willard of our State University to sketch in a few details of our past
history here.
Is Professor Willard here?
PROFESSOR WILLARD, a rural savant, pince-nez an a wide satin ribbon, enters from the right
with some notes in his hand.
May I introduce Professor Willard of our State University.
A few brief notes, thank you, Professor, - unfortunately our time is limited.
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Grover's Corners ... let me see ... Grover's Corners lies on the old Pleistocene granite of the
Appalachian range. I may say it's some of the oldest land in the world. We're very proud of that.
A shell of Devonian basalt crosses it with vestiges of Mesozoic shale, and some sandstone
outcroppings; but that's all more recent: two hundred, three hundred million years old.
Some highly interesting fossils have been found ... I may say: unique fossils ... two miles out of
town, in Silas Peckham's cow pasture. They can be seen at the museum in our University at any
time - that is, at any reasonable time. Shall I read some of Professor Gruber's notes on the
meteorological situation - mean precipitation, et cetera?
STAGE MANAGER:
Afraid we won't have time for that, Professor. We might have a few words on the history of man
here.
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Yes ... anthropological data: Early Amerindian stock. Cotahatchee tribes ... no evidence before
the tenth century of this era ... hm ... now entirely disappeared ... possible traces in three families.
Migration toward the end of the seventeenth century of English brachiocephalic blue-eyed stock
... for the most part. Since then some Slav and Mediterranean STAGE MANAGER:
And the population, Professor Willard?
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Within the town limits: 2,640.
38
Il DIRETTORE DI SCENA entra all'improvviso da destra. Solleva appena il cappello in segno di
saluto alle due signore che rocambiano con un cenno del capo.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Grazie signore. Vi ringrazio molto.
La SIG.RA GIBBS e la SIG.RA WEBB raccolgono le loro cose, tornano alle proprie case e
scompaiono.
Adesso salteremo qualche ora.
Ma come prima cosa ci piacerebbe avere qualche altra informazione a proposito della città, una specie
di resoconto scientifico potremmo dire.
Per questo ho chiesto al Professor Willard, che insegna nella nostra Università di Stato, di descrivere
per sommi capi la nostra storia più antica.
E' qui il Professor Willard?
Il PROFESSOR WILLARD,uno studioso di provincia, che indossa occhiali pince-nez assicurati ad un
ampio nastro di raso, entra da destra con alcuni appunti in mano.
Vi presento il Professor Willard, docente della nostra università.
E' sufficiente lo stretto necessario professore, purtroppo il tempo qui è limitato.
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Grover's Corners ... lasciatemi pensare ... Grover's Corners è situata sull'antico granito pleistocenico
della catena Appalachiana. Potrei dire si tratti di una delle zone più antiche del mondo, e ne siamo
orgogliosi. Uno strato di basalto devoniano lo attraversa insieme ad alcune vestigia di schisto
mesozoico e ad alcuni affioramenti di arenarie; si tratta comunque di ritrovamenti recenti: non più di
duecento o trecento milioni di anni.
Sono stati ritrovati anche dei fossili molto interessanti ... unici direi .. due miglia a nord della città, nei
pascoli del sig Silas Peckham. Possono essere ammirati al museo dell'Università a qualsiasi ora ...
cioè, a qualsiasi ora ragionevole. Potrei leggere alcuni appunti del Professor Gruber a proposito della
situazione meteorologica? Precipitazioni e cose del genere, intendo.,
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Sono desolato ma non abbiamo tempo per questo. Gradiremmo invece qualche parola sulla storia
dell'uomo qui.
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Si ... dato antropologici. Antico stock amerindio. Fino al decimo secolo di questa era non vi è traccia
delle tribù Cotahatchee ... oggi sono totalmente scomparse ... possibili tracce solo in tre famiglie.
Verso la fine del diciassettesimo secolo c'è stata la migrazione di uno stock inglese brachicefalico e
con occhi blu ... per la maggior parte. Da qui in poi slavi e mediterranei.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Per quanto riguarda la popolazione attuale?
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
In città vivono 2,640 persone.
39
STAGEMANAGER:
Just a moment, Professor.
He whispers into the professor's ear.
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Oh, yes, indeed? - The population, at the moment, is 2,642. The Postal District brings in 507
more, making a total of 3,149. - Mortality and birth rates: constant. - By MacPherson's gauge:
6,032.
STAGE MANAGER:
Thank you very much, Professor. we're all very much obliged to you, I'm sure.
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Not at all, sir; not at all.
STAGE MANAGER:
This way, Professor, and thank you again.
Exit PROFESSOR WILLARD.
Now the political and social report: Editor Webb. - Oh, Mr Webb?
MRS WEBB appears at the back door.
MRS WEBB:
He'll be here in a minute ...He just cut his hand while he was eatin' an apple.
STAGE MANAGER:
Thank you, Mrs Webb
MRS WEBB:
Charles! Everybody's waitin'.
Exit MRS WEBB.
STAGE MANAGER:
Mr Webb is the Publisher and Editor of the Grover's Corners Sentinel. That's our local paper,
y'know.
MR WEBB enters from his house, pulling on his coat. His finger is bound in a handkerchief.
MR WEBB:
Well ... I don't have to tell you that we0re run here by a Board of Selectmen. - All males vote at
the age of twenty-one. Women vote indirect. We're lower middle class: sprinkling of professional
men ... ten per cent illiterate laborers. Politically, we're eighty per cent Socialists; rest, indifferent.
40
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Aspetti un momento, Professore.
Gli sussurra all'orecchio.
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Davvero? Allora: al momento la popolazione è di 2,642 anime. nel Distretto Postale cene sono
altra 507, arrivando così ad un totale di3,149. I tassi di mortalità e natalità sono costanti: 6,032
secondo la scala di MacPherson.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
La ringrazio molto Professor Willard. Le siamo tutti molto riconoscenti.
PROFESSOR WILLARD:
Non c'è di che signore ... non c'è di che.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Da questa parte Professore e ... grazie ancora.
Il PROFESSOR WILLARD esce.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Ora passiamo all'aspetto politico e sociale. Chiederemo al sig Webb, il direttore del nostro
giornale. Signor Webb?
La SIG.RA WEBB appare alla porta di servizio.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Sarà qui fra un minuto. Si è tagliato unamano mangiando una mela.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Grazie, sig.ra Webb.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Charles! Stanno tutti aspettando.
La SIG.RA WEBB ESCE.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Il sig Webb è il proprietario, nonchè il direttore, del nostro giornale locale, il Grover's Corners
Sentinel.
Il SIG WEBB arriva da casa suam infilandosi la giacca. Il dito della mano fasciato in un
fazzoletto.
SIG WEBB:
Non c'è bisogno che vi dica che siamo amministrati da un consiglio municipale. Tutti gli uomini
votano all'età di ventuno anni. Il voto delle donne è indiretto. Apparteniamo allo strato inferiore
della classe media: pochi professionisti ... il dieci per cento della popolazione è costituito da
lavoratori analfabeti. Per quanto riguarda la politica, siamo per l'ottantasei per cento repubblicani,
sei per cento democratici e quattro per cento socialisti; il resto, indifferenti.
41
Religiously, we're eighty-five per cent Protestants; twelve per cent Catholics; rest, indifferent.
STAGE AMANGER:
Have you any comments, Mr Webb?
MR WEBB:
Very ordinary town, iy fou ask me. Little better behaved than most. Probably a lot duller.
But our young people here seem to like it well enough. Ninety per cent of'em graduating from
high school settle down right here to live - even when they've been away to college.
STAGE MANAGER:
Now, is there anyone in the audience who would like to ask Editor Webb anything about the
town?
WOMAN IN THE BALCONY:
Is there much drinking in Grover's Corners?
MR WEBB:
Well, ma'am, I wouldn't know what you'd call much. Sattidy nights the farmhands meet down in
Ellery Greenough's stable and holler some. We've got one or two drunks, but thy're always having
remorses every time an evangelist comes to town. No, ma'am, I'd say likker ain't a regular thing in
the home here, escept in the mnedicine chest. Right good for snake bite, y'know - always was.
BELLIGERENT MAN AT BACK OF AUDITORIUM:
Is there no one in town aware of STAGE MANAGER:
Come forward, will you, where we can all hear you -What were you saying?
BELLIGERENT MAN:
Is there no one in town aware of social injustice and industrial inequality?
MR WEBB:
Oh, yes, everybody is - spmethin' terrible. Seems like they spend most of their time talking about
who's rich and who's poor.
BELLIGERENT MAN:
Then why don't they do something about it?
He withdraws without waiting for an answer.
MR WEBB:
Well, I dunno ... I guess we're all hunting like everybody else for a way the diligent and sensible
can rise to the top and the lazy and quarrelsome can sink to the bottom. But it ain't easy to find.
Meanwhile, we do all we can to help those that can't help themselves and those that can we leave
alone. - Are there any other questions?
LADI IN A BOX:
Oh, Mr Webb? Mr Webb, is there any culture or love of beauty in Grover's Corners?
42
In ambito religioso, l'ottantacinque per cento è protestante, il dodici per cento cattolico; il resto,
indifferente.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Vuole fare qualche osservazione personale?
SIG WEBB:
Si tratta di una città normale, a mio avviso. Più funzionante di tante altre. Forse un pò più monotona,
ma sembra che ai giovani non dispiaccia. Il novanta per cento di coloro che si diplomano alkla nostra
scuola decidono di metter su famiglia qui, anche se hanno frequentato l'università altrove.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Bene. C'è qualcuno fra il pubblico che vorrebbe fare qualche domanda a proposito della città al sig
Webb?
UNA DONNA IN GALLERIA:
Si beve molto a Grover's Corners?
SIG WEBB:
Non so cosa intenda lei con l'espressione molto. Il sabato sera i braccianti si ritrovano nella stalla del
sig Ellery Greenought e bevono qualcosa. Ci sono un paio di ubriaconi in città, ma si pentono sempre
quando arrivano i predicatori. No signora, direi che nessuno tiene alcolici in casa se non nella cassetta
del pronto soccorso. L'alcool è sempre stato un buon rimedio contro i morsi dei serpenti, sapete ...
UOMO BELLIGERANTE IN FONDO ALLA PLATEA:
In città nessuno è consapevole ...
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Venga avanti in modo che tutti possano sentirla. Cos'è che voleva chiedere?
UOMO BELLIGERANTE:
Dicevo: non c'è nessuno in città consapevole dell'ingiustizia sociale e dell'ineguaglianza nel mondo
del lavoro?
SIG WEBB:
Oh, si, tutti lo sono ... è una cosa terribile. Sembra che passino gran parte del loro tempo a parlare di
chi è ricco e di chi è povero.
UOMO BELLIGERANTE:
E allora perchè non fanno qualcosa?
Si allontana senza ascoltare la risposta.
SIG WEBB:
Non saprei. Credo che qui, come in altre parti, siamo tutti alla ricerca di un modo per far emergere la
brava gente e far calare a fondo, invece, quella pigra e turbolenta. Ma non è facile trovarlo. Nel
frattempo si fa ciò che si può per prendersi cura di coloro che da soli non riuscirebbero ad aiutarsi e
lasciare, invece, in pace gli altri che sanno cavarsela da soli ...altre domande?
DONNA DA UN PALCO:
Sig Webb? Sig Webb, esiste qualche cultura o l'amore per il bello a Grover's Corners?
43
MR WEBB:
Well, ma'am, there ain'tmuch - not in the sense you mean. Come to think of it, there's some girls
that play the piano at High school Commencement; but they ain't happy about it. No, ma'am,
there isn't much culture; but maybe this is the place to tell you that we've got a lot of pleasures of
kind here; we like the sun somin' up over the mountain in the morning, and we all notice a good
deal about the birds. We pay a lot of attention to them. And we watch the change of the seasons;
yes, everybody knows about them. But those other things - you're right, ma'am, - there ain't much.
- Robinson's Crusoe and the Bible; and Handel's "Largo", we all know that; and Whistler's
"Mother" - those are just about as far as we go.
LADY IN THE BOX:
So I thought. Thank you, Mr Webb.
STAGE MANAGER:
Thank you, Mr Webb.
MR WEBB RETIRES.
Now we'll go back to the town. It's early afternoon.. All 2,642 have had their dinners and all the
dishes have been washed.
MR WEBB,having removed his coat, returns and starts pushing a lawn mower to and fro beside
his house.
There's an early-afternoon calm in our town: a buzzin' and hummin' from the school buildings;
only a few buggies on Main Street - the horses dozing at the hitching posts; you alla remember
what it's like. Doc Gibbs is in his office; tapping people and making them say "ah". Mr Webb's
cutting his lawan over there; one man in ten thinks it's a privilege to push his own lawn mower.
No, sir. It's later than I thpught. There are the children coming home from school already.
Shrill girl's voices are heard, off left. EMILY comes along Main Street, carrying some books.
There are some signs that she is imagining harself to be a lady of startling elegance.
EMILY:
A can't, Lois. I've got to go home and help my mother. I promised.
MR WEBB:
Emily, walk simply. Who do you thin you are today?
EMILY:
papa, you're terrible. One minute you tell me to stand up straight and the next minute you call me
names. I just don't listen to you.
She gives him an abrupt kiss.
MR WEBB:
Golly, I never got a kiss from such a great lady before.
He goes out of sight. EMILY leans over and pick some flowers by the gate of her house.
44
SIG WEBB:
Vede, signora, non ce n'è molto ... o almeno non nel senso che intende lei. Ora che ci penso bene,
abbiamo alcune ragazze che suonano il pianoforte alla cerimonia dei diplomi al liceo, ma non
sono molto entusiaste di farlo. Mi spiace, signora, non c'è molta cultura. Forse questo è il luogo
adatto per confessarvi che abbiamo numerosi interessi: per esempio, ci piace il sole che sorge al
mattino sopra la montagna e il nostro rapporto con gli uccelli. Siamo molto attenti a loro. E
osserviamo il cambiamento delle stagioni; si, conosciamo tutto sulle stagioni. Per quanto riguarda
altre cose, purtroppo non ce ne sono molte, avevate ragione. Conosciamo Robinson Crusoe, la
Bibbia, il "Largo" di Handel. Anche "Madre" di Whistler; ma non ci spingiamo oltre.
DONNA DAL PLACO:
Proprio come pensavo. Grazie, sig Webb.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Grazie, sig Webb.
Il SIG WEBB si ritira.
Torniamo in citàà E' il primo pomeriggio. Tutti 1 2,642 abitanti hanno pranzato e i piatti sono
stati lavati.
Il SIG WEBB, dopo aver tolto la giacca, torna in scena e comincia a spingere un tosaerbe avanti
e indietro vicino alla sua abitazione.
Nella nostra città si respira la tipica calma del primo pomeriggio: brusii e mormorii dagli edifici
scolastici; nella Main Street si vede solo qualche calesse ... i cavalli sonnecchiano ai plai; sapete
tutti com'è. Il dr Gibbs è nel suo ambulatoria che visita i pazienti, dando loro dei colpetti e
facendogli dire "ah". Il sig Webb sta tagliando l'erba laggiù; un uomo su dieci ritiene sia un
privilegio poter tagliare la propria erba da soli.
No, signori miei:è più tardi di quanto pensassi. I ragazzi stanno già tornando da scuola.
Si sentono le voci acute delle ragazze provenire da sinsistra. EMILY cammina lungo Main Street,
portando alcuni libri. Sfoggia un'andatura da gran signora.
EMILY:
Non posso, Lois, devo tornare a casa per aiutare mia madre. L'ho promesso.
SIG WEBB:
Emily, cammina in modo normale, Chi ti credi di essere oggi?
EMILY:
papà sei tremendo! Un minuto prima mi dici di camminare dritta, e un minuto dopo mi prendi in
goro. Non voglio più ascoltarti.
Gli da un bacio brusco.
SIG WEBB:
Accidenti! Non avevo mai ricevuto un bacio da una donna del genere prima d'ora.
Il SIG WEBB esce dal campo visivo. EMILY si piega e raccoglie dei fioro vicino al cancello di casa.
45
GEORGE GIBBS comes careening down Main Street. He is throwing a ball up to dizzying
heights, and waiting to catch it again. This something requires his taking six steps backward. He
bumps into an OLD LADY invisible to us.
GEORGE GIBBS:
Excuse me, Mrs Forrest.
STAGE MANAGER:
As Mrs Forrest.
Go out and play in the fields, young man You got no businessplaying baseball on Main Street.
GEORGE:
Awfully sorry, Mrs Forrest. - Hello, Emily.
EMILY:
H'lo.
GEORGE:
You made a fine speech in class.
EMILY:
Welll ... I was ready to make a speech about the Monroe Doctrine, but at the last minute Miss
Corcoran made me talk about the Louisina Purchase instead. O worked an awful long time on
both of them.
GEORGE:
Gee, it's funny, Emily. From my window up here i can just see your head when you're doing your
homework over in you room.
EMILY:
Why, can you?
GEORGE:
You certainly do sick ti iy, Emily. I don't see how you can sit still that long. I guess you like
school.
EMILY:
Well, I always feel it's something you have to go through
GEORGE:
Yeah.
EMILY:
I don't mind it really. It passes the time.
46
GEORGE GIBBS cammina a zig-zag lungo Main Street, lanciando una palla ad altezze
vertiginose e aspettando che ricada per prenderla. Ciò, a volte, lo fa insietreggiare di
qualche passo, e per questo va a sbattare contro un'ANZIANA SIGNORA che noi non
vediamo.
GEORGE:
Mi scusi, sig.ra Forrest.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Impersonando la sig.na Forrest.
Vai a giocare nei campi, giovanotto. Non si gioca a baseball in mezzo alla strada.
GEORGE:
Sono desolato, sig.na Forrest. Cia Emily.
EMILY:
Ciao.
GEORGE:
Hai fatto un bel discorso oggi in classe.
EMILY:
Beh ... ero molto preparata sulla dottrina di Monroe, ma all'ultimo la sig.na Corcoran mi
ha fatto parlare dell'acquisto della Louisinana. Meno male che avevo lavorato bene su
entrabi gli argomenti.
GEORGE:
E' buffo, Emily: dalla mia finestra riesco a vedere solo la tua testa mentre studi.
EMILY:
Davvero?
GEORGE:
Sicuramente sie una che non molla. Deve proprio piacerti molto la scuola, altrimenti non
capisco come tu faccia a restare seduta per così tanto tempo.
EMILY:
L'ho sempre considerata come una tappa che tutti devono passare.
GEORGE:
Hai ragione.
GEORGE:
Ad essere siceri, non mi dispiace poi tanto. E' un modo per passare il tempo.
47
GEORGE:
Yeah. - Emily, what do you think? We might work out a kinda telegraph from your window to
mine; and once in a while you could give me a kinda hint or two about one of those algebra
problems. I don't mean the answers, Emily, of course not ... just some hint ...
EMILY:
Oh, i think hints are allowed. - So - ah - if you get stuck, George, you whistle to me; and I'll give
you some hints.
GEORGE:
Emily, you're just naturally bright, I guess.
EMILY:
I figure that it's just the way a person's born.
GEORGE:
Yeah. But, you see, I want to be a farmer, and my Uncle Luke says whenever I'm ready I can
come over and work on his farm and if I'm godd I can just gradually have it.
EMILY:
You mean the house and everything?
Enters MRS WEBB with a large bowl and sits on the bench by her trellis.
GEORGE:
Yeah. Well, thanks ... I better be getting out to the baseball field. Thanks for the talk, Emily. Good afternoon Mrs Webb.
MRS WEBB:
Good afternoon, George.
GEORGE:
So long, Emily.
EMILY:
So long, George.
MRS WEBB:
Emily, come and help me string these beans for the winter. George Gibbs let himself have a real
conversation, didn't he? Why, he's growing up. How old would George be?
EMILY:
I don't know.
MRS WEBB:
Let's see. He must be almost sixteen.
48
GEORGE:
Già ...Emily, che ne pensi? Potremmo inventarci una specie di linguaggio trelegrafico dalla tua
finestra alla mia; così ogni tanto potresti darmi una mano con quei problemi di algebra. Non
intendo i risultati, certo che no ... giusto qualche aiutino.
EMILY:
Credo che qualche suggerimento sia permesso. Quindi, George ... ehm ... se dovessi avere delle
difficoltà, fammi un fischio e ti darò qualche aiuto.
GEORGE:
Devi proprio essere intelligente per natura, Emily.
EMILY:
Creedo si nasca così.
GEORGE:
Si, certo. Io, per esempio, vorrei diventare un agricoltore, e mio zio Luke mi ha detto che non
appena mi sentirò pronto, potrò andare a lavorare nella sua fattoria. E se saprò cavarmela, un
giorno potrebbe diventare mia.
EMILY:
Intendi dire la casa e tutto il resto?
L SIG.RA WEBB entra con una grande ciotola e si siede sulla panca vicino al suo graticcio.
GEORGE:
Si. Comunque grazie ... ora è meglio che vada al campo da baseball. Grazie per la chiacchierata,
Emily. Buon pomeriggio sig.ra Webb.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Buon pomeriggio anche a te George.
GEORGE:
Ciao Emily.
EMILY:
Ciao George.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Emily vieni qui ad aiutarmi a sgranare questi fagioli per l'inverno. A quanto pare George GIbbs si
è lasciato andare ad una vera conversazione, non è vero? Sta crescendo il ragazzo. Quanti anni
ha?
EMILY:
Non lo so.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Lasciami pensare. Se non sbaglio dovrebbe averne quasi sedici.
49
EMILY:
Mama, I made a speech in class today and I was very good.
MRS WEBB:
You must recite it tou your father at supper. What was it about?
EMILY:
The Louisiana Purchase. It was like silk off a spool. I'm going to make speeches all my life. Mama, are these bog enough?
MRS WEBB:
Try and get them a little bigger if you can.
EMILY:
Mama, will you answer me a question, serious?
MRS WEBB:
Seriously, dear - not serious.
EMILY:
Seriously, - will you?
MRS WEBB:
Of course, I will.
EMILY:
Mama, am I good looking?
MRS WEBB:
Yes, of course you are. All my children have got good features; I'de be ashamed if they hadn't.
EMILY:
Oh, Mama, that's not what I meant. What I mean is: am I pretty?
MRS WEBB:
I've already told you, yes. Now that's ebough of that. You have a nice young pretty face. I never
heard of such foolishness.
EMILY:
Oh, Mama, you never tell us the truth about anything.
MRS WEBB:
I am telling you the truth.
EMILY:
Mama, were you pretty?
50
EMILY:
Sai mamma, oggi ho fatto un discorso in classe e sono stata davvero brava.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Allora devi farlo sentire a tuo padre durante la cena. Di cosa si trattava?
EMILY:
Dell'Acquisto della Louisiana. E' stato facilissimo. Sono sicura che farò discorsi come questi per
tutta la vita. Questi vanno bene, mamma?
SIG.RA WEBB:
Si, ma cerca di prendere quelli più grandi.
EMILY:
Mamma, se ti faccio una domanda mi rispondi seria?
SIG.RA WEBB:
Si dice seriamente tesoro, non seria.
EMILY:
Seriamente ... lo farai?
SIG.RA WEBB:
Certo.
EMILY:
Ho un bell'aspetto?
SIG.RA WEBB:
Certo che si. I miei ragazzi hanno entrambi dei bei lineamenti, mi vergognerei se fosse il
contrario.
EMILY:
Non intendevo questo. Quello che volevo dire è: sono carina?
SIG.RA WEBB:
Ti ho già detto di si, basta parlarne. hai un bel viso. Non ho mai sentito sciocchezze simili.
EMILY:
Tu non ci dici mai la verità su niente.
SIG.RAWEBB:
Ma te la sto dicendo la verità.
EMILY:
Mamma, tu eri bella?
51
MRS WEBB:
Yes, I was, if I do say it. I was the prettiest girl in town next to Mamie Cartwright.
EMILY:
But, Mama, you've got to say something about me. Am I pretty enough ... to get anybody
... to get people interested in me?
MRS WEBB:
Emily, you make me tired. Now stop it. You're pretty enough for all normal purposes.
Come alonh now and bring that bowl with you.
EMILY:
Oh, Mama, yiu're no help at all.
STAGE MANAGER:
Thank you. Thank you! That'll do. We'll have to interrupt again. Thank you, Mrs Webb;
thank you, Emily.
MRS WEBB and EMILY withdraw.
There are some more things we want to explore about this town.
He comes to the center of the stage. During the following speech the lights gradually dim
to darkness, leaving only a spot on him.
I think this is a good time to tell you that the Cartwright interests have just begun
building a new bank in Grover's Corners - had to go to Vermont for the marble, sorry to
say. And they've asked a friend of mine what they should put in the cornerstone for
people to dig up ... a thousand years from now ... Of course, they've put in a copy of the
New York Times and a copy of Mr Webb's Sentinel ... We're kind of interested in this
because some scientifics fellas have found a way of painting all that reading matter with a
glue - a silicate glue - that'll make it keep a thousand - two thousand years.
We're putting in a Bible ... and the Constitution of the United States - and a copy of
William Shakespeare's plays. What do you say, folks? What do you think?
Y'know - babylon once had two million people in it, and all we know about 'em is the
names of the kings and some copies of wheat contracts ... and contracts for the sale of
slaves. Yet every night all those families sat down to supper, and the father came home
from his work, and the smoke went up the chimney, - same as here. And even in Greece
and Rome, all we know about the real life of the people is what we can piece together out
of the joking poems and the comedies they wrote for the theatre back then.
So I'm going to have a copy of this play put in the cornerstone and the people a thousand
years from now'll know a few simple facts about us - more than the Treaty of Versailles
and the Lindbergh flight.
52
SIG.RA WEBB:
Si, lo ero. Insieme a Mamie Cartwright, ero la ragazza più carina in città.
EMILY:
Allora devi dirmelo: sono abbastanza carina .. affinchè ... affinchè le persone s'interessino a me?
SIG.RA WEBB:
Emily ne ho abbastanza, ora smettila! Sei carina quanto basta per qualsiasi normale interesse.
Andiamo adesso, e porta con te quella scodella.
EMILY:
Non mi aiuti affatto, mamma.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Grazie mille. Dobbiamo fare un'altra interruzione. Grazie sig.ra Webb; grazie Emily.
La SIG.RA WEBB e EMILY si allontanano.
Ci sono molte altre cose che vogliamo scoprire a proposito di questa città.
Si dirige verso il centro del palcoscenico. Nel corso delle battute seguenti le luci lentamente si
abbassano fino ad arrivare all'oscurità; soltanto un faro viene posizionato su di lui.
Credo sia arrivato il momento di dirvi che gli industriali del sig Cartwright hanno appena
cominciato a costruire una nuova banca qui a Grover's Corners. Mi spiace dirlo, ma si sono
dovuti recare nel Vermont per scegliere il marmo. E hanno chiesto ad un mio amico cosa
avrebbero potuto seppellire sotto la prima pietra, affinchè coloro che scaveranno qui fra mille
anni possano trovare qualcosa di interessante... Sicuramente ci hanno messo una copia del Ney
York Times e del Sentinel sel sig Webb ... Siamo interessati a questo genere di cose, perchè
alcuni scienziati hanno trovato il modo per fissare tutta questa carta grazie ad una specie di colla,
colla di silicato per essere precisi, che mantiene il tutto anche per mille o duemila anni.
Ci metteremo la Bibbia ... la Costituzione degli Stati Uniti ... e una copia delle commedie di
Shakespeare. Che ne pensate, gente?
Una volta babilonia aveva due milioni di abitanti e tutto ciò che ci rimane a proposito di queste
persone si limita ai nomi dei re e ad alcune copie di contratti perla vendita del grano o per la tratta
degli schiavi. Ogni sera, tutte queste famiglie si sedevano per cenare; il padre tornava a casa dal
lavoro e il fumo usciva dal camino ... proprio come qui da noi. Lo stesso vale per la Grecia e per
Roma: tutto quello che sappiamo sulla vita reale di queste persone, possiamo ricostruirlo
attraverso le satire e le commedie che scrissero per il teatro.
Per questo motivo inserirò sotto la prima pietra una copia di quest'opera, in modo che le persone
che vivranno qui fra mille anni sapranno qualcosa di noi; qualcosa in più del Trattato di
Versailles o del volo di Lindbergh.
53
See what I mean?
So - people a thousand years from now - this is the way we were in the provinces north of New
York at the beginning of the twentieth century. -this is the way we were: in our growing up and in
our marrying and in our living and in our dying.
A choir partally concealed in the orchestra pit has begun singing "Blessed Be the Tie that Binds".
SIMON STIMSON stands directing them.
Two ladders have been pushed onto the stage; they serve as indication of the second story in the
Gibbs and Webb house. GEORGE and EMILY mount them, and apply themselves to their
schoolworks.
DR GIBBS has entered and is seated in his kitchen reading.
Well - good deal of time's gone by. Its's evening.
You can hear choir practice going on in the Congregational Church.
The day's running down like a tired clock.
SIMON STIMSON:
Now look here, everubody. Music come into the world to give pleasure. - Softer! Softer! Get it
out of your heads that music's only good when it's loud. You can leave loudness to the
Methodists. You couldn't beat 'em, even if you wanted to. Now again. Tenors!
GEORGE:
Hssst! Emily!
EMILY:
Hello!
GEORGE:
Hello!
EMILY:
I can't work at all. The moonlight's so terrible.
GEORGE:
Emily, did you get the third problem?
EMILY:
Which?
GEORGE:
The third?
54
Capite cosa intendo?
Quindi, generazioni future: è così che eravamo nelle province a nord di New York all'inizio del
ventesimo secolo. Ecco come eravamo nel periodo dell'infanzia, quando ci siamo sposati, nella
nostra vita quotidiana, e nel periodo della vecchiaia.
Un coro parzialmentr nascosto nella sezione dell'orchestra, ha cominciato a cantare "Blessed Be
the Tie that Binds".
SIMON STIMSON, in piedi, lo dirige.
Due scale vengono fatte entrare in scena; rappresentano il secondo piano delle abitazioni dei
Gibbs e dei Webb. GEORGE e EMILY vi salgono e si dedicano ai compiti per la scuola.
Il DR GIBBS torna in scena e si siede in cucina a leggere.
Bene! E' passato un bel pò di tempo. Ora è sera.
Potete sentire il coro che si esercita nella Chiesa Congregazionista.
I ragazzi sono a casa, impegnati con i compiti di scuola.
La giornata si trascina avanti come un orologio stanco.
SIMON STIMSON:
Ora ascoltate tutti. La musica è nata per arrecare piacere. Più piano! Più piano! Toglietevi dalla
testa che la musica sia migliore solo se gridata. Lasciate il fragore ai Metodisti. Non potreste
batterli, neanche volendo. Ancora una volta. Tenori!
GEORGE:
Pssst! Emily!
EMILY:
Ciao!
GEORGE:
Ciao!
EMILY:
Non riesco proprio a studiare. La luna è così meravigliosa.
GEORGE:
Emily, sei riuscita a finire il terzo problema?
EMILY:
Quale?
GEORGE:
Il terzo!
55
EMILY:
Why, yes, George - that's the easiest of them all.
GEORGE:
I don't see it. Emily, can you give me a hint?
EMILY:
I'll tell you one thing: the answer's in yards.
GEORGE:
!!! In yards? How do you mean?
EMILY:
In square yards.
GEORGE:
Oh ... in square yards.
EMILY:
Yes, George, don't you see?
GEORGE:
Yeah.
EMILY:
In square yards of wallpaper.
GEORGE:
Wallpaper, - oh, I see. thanks a lot, Emily.
EMILY:
You're welcome. My, isn't the moonlight terrible? And the choir practice going on. - I
think if you hold your breath you can hear the train all the way to Contoocook. Hear it?
GEORGE:
M-m-m - What do you know!
EMILY:
Well, I guess I better go back and try to work.
GEORGE:
Good night, Emily. And thanks.
EMILY:
Good night, George.
56
EMILY:
Si, George. E' il più facile di tutti.
GEORGE:
A me non sembra affatto. Potresti darmi un aiuto?
EMILY:
Ti dirò una cosa: la risposta è in metri.
GEORGE:
In metri? Cosa intendi per "metri"?
EMILY:
In metri quadrati.
GEORGE:
Ahh!!! In metri quadrati!
EMILY:
Proprio così, Hai capito ora?
GEORGE:
Ecco ... più o meno.
EMILY:
In metri quadrati di carta da parati.
GEORGE:
carta da parati! Ora ho capito! Grazie mille, Emily.
EMILY:
Non c'è di che. Dio, non è splendida la luna? Ele prove del coro che proseguono ... sono
sicura che se si trattiene il respiro si può sentire il rumore del treno per tutta la strada fino
a Coontoocook. Riesci a sentirlo?
GEORGE:
M-m-m. E' vero.
EMILY:
Bene, sarà meglio che cerchi di studiare adesso.
GEORGE:
Buona notte, Emily.
EMILY:
Buona notte, George.
57
SIMON STIMSON:
Before I forget it: how many of you will be able to come in Tuesday afternoon and sing at Fred
Hersey's wedding? - show your hands. That'll be fine; that'll be right nice. We'll do the same
music we did for Jane Trwbridge's last month.
- Now we'll do: "Art Thou Weary; Art Thou Languid?". It's a question, ladies and gentlemen,
make it talk. Ready.
DR GIBBS:
Oh, George, can you come down a minute?
GEORGE:
Yes, Pa.
He descends the ladder.
DR GIBBS:
Make yourself comfortable, George; I'll only keep you a minute. George, how old are you?
GEORGE:
I? I'm sixteen, almost seventeen.
DR GIBBS:
What do you want to do after school's over?
GEORGE:
Why, you know, Pa. I want to be a farmer on Uncle Luke's farm.
DR GIBBS:
You'll be willing, will you, to get up early and milk and feed the stock ... and you'll be able to hoe
and hay all day?
GEORGE:
Sure, I will. What are you ... what do you mean, Pa?
DR GIBBS:
Well, George, while I was in my office today I heard a funny sound ... and what do you think it
was? It was your mother chopping wood. There you see your mother - getting up early; cooking
meals all day long; washing and ironing; - and still she has to go out in the back yard and chop
wood. I suppose she just got tired of asking you. She just gave up and decided it was easier to do
it herself. And you eat her meals, and put on the clothes she keeps nice for you, and you run off
and play baseball, - like she's some hired girl we keep around the house but that we don't like
very much. Well, I knew all I had to do was call your attention to it. Here's a handkerchief, son.
George, I've decided to raise your spending money twenty-five cents a week. Not, of course, for
chopping wood for your mother, because that's a present you give her, but because you're getting
older - and I imagine there are a lots of things you must find to do with it.
58
SIMON STIMSON:
Prima che me ne dimentichi: quanti di voi potranno venire martedì pomeriggio per cantare al
matrimonio di Fred Hersey? Alzate le mani. Molto bene, allora abbiamo risolto. Eseguiremo le
stesse canzoni che abbiamo fatto lo scorso mese per la cerimonia di Jane Trowbridge.
Adesso tutti pronti per "Art Thou Weary; Art Thou Languid?". E' una domanda, signori e signore,
facciamola sentire. pronti.
DR GIBBS:
George! Puoi scendere un minuto?
GEORGE:
Arrivo, papà.
Scende dalla scala.
DR GIBBS:
Mettiti comodo, ci vorrà solo un minuto. George: quanti anni hai?
GEORGE:
Io? Ne ho sedici, quasi diciassette.
DR GIBBS:
Cos'hai intenzione di fare una volta finita la scuola?
GEORGE:
Lo sai papaà. Voglio diventare un agricoltore nella fattoria dello zio Luke.
DR GIBBS:
Avrai la voglia di alzarti presto la mattina per mungere le mucche e dare loro da mangiare? E
sarai in grado di zappare e vangare tutto il giorno?
GEORGE:
Certo che si. Cosa ... cosa vuoi dire, papà?
DR GIBBS:
Sai, George, mentre ero nel mio studio oggi ho sentito un rumore strano. Sai cos'erà? Era tua
madre che tagliava la legna. Come puoi ben vedere, tua madre si alza presto al mattino, cucina
tutto il giorno, lava e stira. E, nonostante ciò, deve persino andare in cortile a tagliare la legna.
Credo si sia stancata di chiederlo a te. Si è arresa e ha capito che era più semplice farlo da sola.
Però tu mangi il suo cibo, indossi i vestiti che con cura prepara per te e vai in giro a giocare a
baseball, come se tua madre fosse una donna di servizio che si prende cura della casa, ma che non
ci piace poi tanto. Comunque, ero sicuro che sarebbe bastato farti riflettere un pò su questo.
prendi questo fazzoletto, figliolo. George, ho deciso di aumentare la tua paghetta a venticinque
centesii a settimana. Chiaramente non lo faccio affinchè tu tagli la legna a tua madre, quello è un
regalo che le fai; lo faccio perchè ormai stai crescendo e immagino avrai un sacco di cose per cui
spenderli.
59
GEORGE:
Thanks, Pa.
DR GIBBS:
Let's see - tomorrow's your payday. You can count on it - Hm. Probably Rebecca'll feel she ought
to have some more too. Wonder what could have happened to your mother. Choir practice never
was as late as this before.
GEORGE:
It's only half past eight, Pa.
DR GIBBS:
I don't know why she's in that old choir. She hasn't any more voice than an old crow ... Traipisin'
around the streets at this hour of the night ... Just about time you retired, don't you think?
GEORGE:
Yes, Pa.
GEORGE mounts to his place on the ladder.
Laughter and good nights can be heard on stage left and presently MRS GIBBS, MRS SOAMES
and MRS WEBB come down Main Street. When they arrive at the corner of the stage they stop.
MRS SOAMES:
Good night, Martha. Good night, Mr Foster.
MRS WEBB:
I'll tell Mr Webb; I know he'll want to put it in the paper.
MRS GIBBS:
My, it's late.
MRS SOAMES:
Good night, Irma.
MRS GIBBS:
Real nice choir practice, wasnt it? Mytrle Webb! Look at that moon, will you! Tsk-tsk-tsk. Potato
weather, for sure.
They are silent a moment, gazing up at the moon.
MRS SOAMES:
Naturally I didn't want to say a word about it in front of those others, but now we're alone - really,
it's the worst scandal that ever was in this town!
MRS GIBB:
What?
60
GEORGE:
Grazie, papà.
DR GIBBS:
Vediamo un pò: domani è il tuo giorno di paga. Allora già da domani puoi contare su questo
aumento. Mmmm ... probabilmente anche Rebecca vorrà averne di più. Mi chiedo che fine abbia
fatto tua madre. le prove del coro non sono mai andate tanto per le lunghe.
GEORGE:
Sono soltanto le otto e trenta, papà.
DR GIBBS:
Non capisco come ai faccia parte di quel vecchio coro. Non ha più voce di un vecchio corvo! E
poi andarsene in giro per le strade a quest'ora! Credo sia ora per te di andare a dormire, che ne
dici?
GEORGE:
Certo.
GEORGE torna al suo posto sulla scala.
Nella parte sinistra del palcoscenico si sentono le risate e i saluti di buona notte. La SIG.RA
GIBBS, la SIG.RA SOAMES e la SIG.RA WEBB arrivano in Main Street fermandosi all'angolo.
SIG.RA SOAMES:
Buona notte, Martha. Buona notte sig. Foster.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Lo dirò al sig. Webb. Sono sicura che vorrà inserirlo nel giornale.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Mio Dio, come si è fatto tardi!
SIG.RA SOAMES:
Buona notte, Irma.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Stasera le prove sono andate piuttosto bene, vero? Myrtle Webb: guardate che luna! Ottimo
tempo per le patate, sicuramente.
Restano in silenzio per un momento, fissando la luna.
SIG.RA SOAMES:
Prima non ho voluto dire niente di fronte agli altri, ma ora che siamo sole ... è veramente lo
scandalo peggiore che sia capitato in questa città.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Di cosa parlate?
61
MRS SOAMES:
Simon Stimson!
MRS GIBBS:
Now, Louella!
MRS SOAMES:
But, Julia! To have the organist of a church drink and drunk year after year. You know he
was drunk tonight.
MRS GIBBS:
Now, Louella! We all know about Mr Stimson, and we all know about the trouble's been
through, and Dr Ferguson knows too, and if Dr Ferguson keeps him on there in his job
the only thing the rest of us can do is just not to notice it.
MRS SOAMES:
Not to notice it! But it's getting worse.
MRS WEBB:
No, it isn't, Louella. It's getting better. I've been in that choir twice as long as you have. It
doesn't happen anywhere near so often ... My, I hate to go to bed on a night like this. - I
better hurry. Those children'll be sitting up till all hours. Good night, Louella.
They all exchange good nights. She hurries downstage, enters her house and disappear.
MRS GIBBS:
Can you get home safe, Louella?
MRS SOAMES:
It's as bright as day. I can see Mr Soames scowling at the window now. You'd think we'd
been to a dance the way the menfolk carry on.
More good nights. MRS GIBBS arrives at her home and passes through the trellis into
the kitchen.
MRS GIBBS:
Well, we had a real good time.
DR GIBBS:
You're late enough.
MRS GIBBS:
Why, Frank, it ain't any later ' n usual.
DR GIBBS:
And you stopping at the corner to gossip with a lot of hens.
62
SIG.RA SOAMES:
Di Simon Stimson!
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Suvvia, Louella!
SIG.RA SOAMES:
Ma, Julia! L'organista della Chiesa beve e si ubriaca anno dopo anno. Lo avete visto anche voi
che era ubriaco stasera.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Andiamo, Louella! Conosciamo tutti il sig. Stimson e i problemi che ha dovuto affrontare. Anche
il dr Ferguson li conosce, e se è proprio lui a farlo ancora lavorare lì l'unica cosa che possiamo
fare è non farci caso.
SIG.RA SOAMES:
Non farci caso! Ma peggiora sempre di più.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Non è vero, Louella. Sta migliorando, invece. Sono in quel coro da molto più tempo di voi e
posso assicurarvi che non accade più così spesso. Beh, mi spiace proprio dover andare a letto con
una serata così. E' meglio che mi sbrighi, altrimenti quesi ragazzi staranno alzati fino a non so
quando. Buona notte, Louella.
Si scambiano la buona notte. La SIG.RA WEBB si affretta verso casa sua, dove sparisce.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Ve la sentite di andare a casa da sola, Louella?
SIG.RA SOAMES:
Si vede come se fosse giorno. Riesco già a scorgere mio marito imbronciato alla finestra. Questi
uomini ... pensano sempre che una vada a ballare.
Si salitano di nuovo. la SIG.RA GIBBS arriva a casa sua e, attraverso il graticcio, entra in
cucina.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Ci siamo proprio divertite.
DR GIBBS:
Sei abbastanza in ritardo.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Ma no! Non è più tardi del solito.
DR GIBBS:
E ti sei fermata qui all'angolo a spettegolare con quel branco di galline.
63
MRS GIBBS:
Now, Frank, don't be grouchy. Come out and smell the heliotrope in the moonlight.
The y stroll out arm in arm along the footlights.
Isn't that wonderful? What did you do all the time I was away?
DR GIBBS:
Oh, I read - as usual. What were the girls gossiping about tonight?
MRS GIBBS:
Well, believe me, Frank - there is something to gossip about.
DR GIBBS:
Hmm! Simon Stimson far gone, was he?
MRS GIBBS:
Worst I've ever seen him. How'll that end, Frank? Dr Ferguson can't forgive him forever.
DR GIBBS:
I guess I know more about Simon Stimson's affair than anybody in this town. Some people ain't
made for small-town life. I don't know how that'll end; but there's nothing we can do but just
leave it alone. Come, get in.
MRS GIBBS:
No, not yet ... Frank, I'm worried about you.
DR GIBBS:
What are you worried about?
MRS GIBBS:
I think it's my duty to make plans for you to get a real rest and change. And if I get that legacy,
well, I'm going to insist on it.
DR GIBBS:
Now, Julia, there's no sense in going over this again.
MRS GIBBS:
Frank, you're just unreasonable!
DR GIBBS:
Starting into the house.
Come on, Julia, it's getting late. First thing you know you'll catch cold. I gave George a piece of
my mind tonight. I reckon you'll have your wood chopped for a while anyway. No, no, start
getting upstairs.
64
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Suvvia, Frank, non essere scontroso. Vieni fuori a sentire il profumo della valeriana al chiaro di
luna.
Passeggiano a braccetto lungo la ribalta.
Non è meraviglioso? Cos'hai fatto tutto il tempo che sono stata via?
DR GIBBS:
Niente di che, ho letto come al solito. Di cosa stavate spettegolando stasera?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Credimi, Frank: stavolta c'è molto su cui spettegolare.
DR GIBBS:
Mmm ... Simon Stimson, immagino.
SIG.RA WEBB:
Non l'avevo mai visto peggio di così. Come andrà a finire questa storia, Frank? Il dr Ferguson
non potrà perdonarlo per sempre.
DR GIBBS:
Credo di sapere molte più cose su Simon Stimson di qualsiasi altra persona in città. Alcuni
individui non sono adatti per vivere in una piccola città. Non so come andrà a finire; non
possiamo fare altro che lasciarlo in pace. Vieni, entriamo.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
No, non ancora. Frank, sono preoccupata per te.
DR GIBBS:
Preoccupata per cosa?
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Credo sia mio dovere convincerti a prenderti un pò di riposo e a svagarti. E se avrò quell'eredità,
continuerò ad insistere.
DR GIBBS:
Ascolta, Julia, non ha senso parlare ancora dell'argomento.
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Sei proprio irragionevole, Frank.
DR GIBBS:
Entrando in casa.
Vieni, Julia, si sta facendo tardi. Innanzitutto ti prenderai un raffreddore. Ho fatto una bella
chiacchierata con George stasera. Vedrai che adesso te la taglierà la legna per un bel pò. No,
lascia stare lì. Vieni di sopra.
65
MRS GIBBS:
Oh, dear. There's always so many things to pick up, seems like. You know, Frank, Mrs Fairchild
always locks her front door every night. All those people up that part of town do.
DR GIBBS:
Blowing out the lamp.
They're all getting citified, that's the trouble with them. They haven't got nothing fit to burgle and
everybody knows it.
They disappear.
REBECCA climbs the ladder beside GEORGE.
GEORGE:
Get out, Rebecca. There's only room for one at this window. You're always spoiling everything.
REBECCA:
Well, let me look just a minute.
GEORGE:
Use your own window.
REBECCA:
I did, but there's no moon there ... George, do you know what I think, do you? I think maybe the
moon's getting nearer and nearer and there'll be a big ' splosion.
GEORGE:
Rebecca, you don't know anything. If the moon were getting nearer, the guys that sit upall night
with telescopes would see it forst and they'd tell about it, and it'd be in all the newspapers.
REBECCA:
George, is the moon shining on South America, Canada and half the whole world?
GEORGE:
Well - prob'ly is.
The STAGE MANAGER strolls on.
Pause. The sound of crickets is heard.
STAGE MANAGER:
Nine thirty. Most of the lights are out. No, there's Constable Warren trying a few doors on Main
Street. And here comes Editor Webb, after putting his newspaper to bed.
66
SIG.RA GIBBS:
Accidenti. Sembra che non si finisca mai di mettere a posto. Sai, Frank, la sig.ra Fairchild chiude
sempre la porta con il catenaccio la sera. Quasi tutti quelli del suo quartiere lo fanno.
DR GIBBS:
Spegnendo la luce.
Cominciano ad avere una mentalità da grande città, ecco dov'è il loro problema. Non hanno
niente che valga la pena rubare, lo sanno tutti.
Spariscono.
REBECCA si arrampica sulla scala vicino a GEORGE.
GEORGE:
Vai via, Rebecca. C'è posto per una sola persona qui. Devi sempre rovinare tutto.
REBECCA:
Dai! Fammi guardare solo un minuto.
GEORGE:
Usa la tua di finestra.
REBECCA:
L'ho fatto, ma da lì non si vede la luna. George, vuoi sapere cosa penso? Credo che la luna si stia
avvicinando sempre di più e ci sarà una grande esplosione.
GEORGE:
Rebecca, non capisci niente. Se la luna si avvicinasse così tanto, quelli che stanno seduti tutta la
notte al telescopio se ne accorgerebbero; e sarebbe scritto su tutti i giornali.
REBECCA:
George, la luna sta brillando anche nel Sud America, nel Canada e in metà del mondo?
GEORGE:
Beh, probabilmente si.
Il DIRETTORE DI SCENA entra.
Pausa. Canto di grilli.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Nove e trenta. La maggior parte delle luci sono spente. Ah, no: c'è l'agente Warren che controlla
alcune porte in Main Street. Arriva anche il direttore Webb, dopo aver completato il lavoro al
giornale.
67
MR WARREN, an alderly policeman, comes along Main Street from the right, MR WEBB from
the left.
MR WEBB:
Good evening, Bill.
AGENTE WARREN:
Evenin', Mr Webb.
MR WEBB:
Quite a moon!
AGENTE WARREN:
Yepp.
MR WEBB:
All quiet tonight?
AGENTE WARREN:
Simon Stimson is rollin' arounda little. Just saw his wife movin' out to hunt for him so I looked
the other way - there he is now.
SIMON STIMSON comes down Main Street from the left, only a trace of unsteadiness in his walk.
MR WEBB:
Good evening, Simon ... Town seems to have settled down for the night pretty well ...
SIMON STIMSON comes up to him and pauses a moment and stares at him, swaying slightly.
Good evening ... Yes, most of the town's settled down for the night, Simon ... I guess we better do
the same. Can I walk along a ways with you?
SIMON STIMSON continues on his way without a word and disappears at the right.
Good night.
AGENTE WARREN:
I don't know how that's goin' to end, Mr Webb.
MR WEBB:
Well, he's seen a peck of trouble, one thing after another ... Oh, Bill ... if you see my boy smoking
cigarettes, just give him a word, will you? He thinks a lot of you, Bill.
CONSTABLE WARREN:
I don't think he smokes no cigarettes, Mr Webb. Leastways, not more'n two or three a year.
MR WEBB:
Hm ... I hope not. - Well, good night, Bill.
CONSTABLE WARREN:
Good night, Mr Webb.
68
Il SIG. WARREN, un poliziotto di una certa età, viene lungo Main Street da destra, il SIG. WEBB
da sinistra.
SIG WEBB:
Buona sera, Bill.
AGENTE WARREN:
Sera, sig Webb.
SIG WEBB:
Visto che luna?
AGENTE WARREN:
Già.
SIG WEBB:
Tutto tranquillo stasera?
AGENTE WARREN:
C'è Simon Stimson che gironzola. Ho appena incontrato la moglie che usciva a cercarlo, così ho
fatto finta di niente. Eccolo che arriva.
SIMON STIMSON viene per la Main Street da sinistra, con passo incerto.
SIG WEBB:
Buona sera, Simon ... In città sembra siano tutti prontinper dormire ...
SIMON STIMSON si avvicina e si ferma per un momento a fissarlo, oscillando leggermente.
Buona sera ... Già, sembra che la città sia pronta per la notte, Simon ... Credo dovremmo fare lo
stesso anche noi. Posso fare un pezzo di strada con voi?
SIMON STIMSON continua per la sua strada senza dire una parola.
Buona notte.
AGENTE WARREN:
Non so proprio come andrà a finire, sig Webb.
SIG WEBB:
Beh, ne ha passati parecchi di guai, per una cosa o per un'altra ... A proposito, Bill ... se vedete
mio figlio che fuma ditegliene quattro, intesi? Ha molta stima di voi.
AGENTE WARREN:
Non credo fumi sigarette, sig Webb. Per lo meno non più di due e tre all'anno.
SIG WEBB:
Spero di no. Beh, buona notte, Bill.
AGENTE WARREN:
Buona notte, sig Webb.
69
Exit.
MR WEBB:
Who's up there? Is that you, Myrtle?
EMILY:
No, it's me, Papa.
MR WEBB:
Why aren't you in bed?
EMILY:
I don't know. I just can't sleep yet, Papa. The moonlight's so won-derful. And the smell of Mrs Gibb's
heliotrope. Can you smell it?
MR WEBB:
Hm ...Yes. Haven't any troubles on you mind, have you, Emily?
EMILY:
Troubles, Papa? No.
MR WEBB:
Well, enjoy yourself, but don't let your mother catch you. Good night, Emily.
EMILY:
Good night, Papa.
MR WEBB crosses into the house, whistling "Blessed Be the Tie that Binds" and disappears.
REBECCA:
I never told you about that letter Jane Crofut got from her minister when she was sick. He wrote Jane a
letter and on the envelope the address was like this: It said: Jane Crofut; The Crofut Farm; Grover's
Corners; Sutton County; New Hampshire; United States of America.
GEORGE:
What's funny about that?
REBECCA:
But listen, it's not finished: the United States of America; Continent of North America; Western
Hemisphere; the Earth; the Solar System; the Universe, the Mind of God - that's what it said on the
envelope.
GEORGE:
What do you know!
REBECCA:
And the postman brought it just the same.
GEORGE:
What do you know!
STAGE MANAGER:
That's the end of the First Act, friends. You can go out and smoke now, those who smoke.
70
Esce.
SIG WEBB:
Chi c'è lassù? Sei tu, Myrtle?
EMILY:
No, papà. Sono io.
SIG WEBB:
Come mai non sei a letto?
EMILY:
Non lo so. Non riesco a dormire stasera. La lune è così splendida. E la valeriana della sig.ra
Gibbs ... la senti?
SIG WEBB:
Hm ... Si. C'è forse qualcosa che ti preoccupa, Emily?
EMILY:
Che mi preoccupa? No, papà.
SIG WEBB:
Allora divertiti ancora unpò, ma non farti scoprire da tua madre. Buona notte, Emily.
EMILY:
Buona notte, papà.
Il SIG WEBB entra in casa fischiettando "Blessed Be the Tie that Binds" e sparisce.
REBECCA:
Non ti ho mai raccontato della lettera che Jane Crofut ha ricevuto dal suo parroco quando stava
male. Le scrisse una lattera e sulla busta l'indirizzo diceva: Jane Crofut; Fattoria Crofut; Grover's
Corners; Contea di Sutton; New Hampshire; Stati Uniti d'America.
GEORGE:
E cosa ci sarebbe di tanto divertente?
REBECCA:
Ascolta, non è ancora finita: Stati Uniti d'America; Continente del Nord America, Emisfero
Occidentale; Tera; Sistema Solare; Universo; Creato di Dio. Questo c'era scritto sulla busta.
GEORGE:
Pensa te!
REBECCA:
E il postino l'ha consegnata lo stesso.
DIRETTORE DI SCENA:
Questa è la fine del primo atto, amici. I fumatori possono andare fuori a fumare adesso.
71
AFTERWORD
1. ABOUT THE PLAYWRIGHT
THORNTON WILDER (1897 – 1975)
It is ironic that Thornton Wilder, who in Our Town created one of the clearest vision of
small-town America, was one of the most cosmopolitan authors this country has
produced.
On 17 April 1897, he was born in Madison, Wisconsin, where his father, Amos Wilder,
owned and edited a local newspaper. The Wilders were a family dedicated to both
religion and intellectual pursuits. In 1906, Amos Wilder was appointed the U.S consul
general in Hong Kong and Thornton’s travels began. For the next nine years the young
Wilder’s schooling alternated between German and mission schools in China and
ordinary public schools in California. He graduated from high school having seen more
of the world than most people ever seen.
When it was time for college, Wilder wanted to go to Yale. Amos, however, was afraid
that Yale was too worldly, and sent his son to Oberlin, trusting to its reputation as a
strongly religious school. Oberlin was also a stimulating college, and Wilder developed a
lasting enthusiasm for theatre, music and classic literature: he was an enthusiastic
supporter of the noted novelist James Joyce at a time where the general public dismissed
the Irish writers as incomprehensible, obscene, or both. After two years, Thornton
transferred to Yale. After a brief stint in the Coast Artillery during World War I, he was
graduated in 1920.
Next came several months in Rome, where Wilder took courses in archaeology at the
American Academy. This period seems to have had an importance to Wilder. During the
course of his studies in Rome, he developed a notion of time that became an important
theme in many of his works. After helping excavate an Etruscan street, he was stuck by
the notion that limits of times and geography were false. Past, present and future should
not be considered separately.
Amos Wilder intervened again and called his son back to America. He had found him a
job teaching French at the Lawrenceville School. Wilder wrote in his spare time,
publishing his first novel, The Cabala, and seeing a production a his first full-length play,
The Trumpet Shall Sound, in 1926. He than wrote the novel The Bridge of San Louis Ray.
It was a popular and a critical success, a best-seller that won a 1928 Pulitzer Prize.
72
Now financially secure, Wilder quit his job to become a full-time writer. He spent two
years touring Europe, paying special attention to the European theatre. When Wilder
returned to the United States in 1930, the unusual mixture of enthusiasm and weariness,
of optimism and disillusion that had characterised the outlook of many persons in the
1920s, was over. The Great Depression had begun.
Then came 1938 Our Town, Wilder’s first hit play and the source of his second Pulitzer
Prize. Its enormous success was something of a surprise to both Wilder and his
collaborators. During its Boston tryouts, audiences obviously thought it was much too
sad, and the producers brought it to New York early for fear it would be washed out in a
sea of tears if they left it on the road.
Then, instead of the modest critical success everyone expected, the play was a smash hit.
Critics raved and audiences loved it. Our Town became one of the standbys of amateur
dramatic groups.
In an odd way it is Thornton Wilder’s very cosmopolitanism, his distance from smalltown America, that made it possible for him to visualize it lovingly in Our Town. While
other writers of his generation such as Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald felt
alienated from the America where they grew up, Wilder had never lived in one place long
enough to grow attached to it, and he seems to have felt at home wherever he went. He
did not experienced the love-hate relationship that develops when one place and its
values appear to be all the world.
Wilder wanted a return to the theatre of Shakespeare, a theatre that he was coming to
think was the best equipped of all the arts to show the way the world truly is. For Wilder
this world truth emerged from theatre’s unique ability to demonstrate the particular and
the universal at the same time, to show one actor but to suggest behind him the general
and generalizable situation. As he said, “the theatre is admirably fitted to tell both truth”.
There has always been appreciation of Wilder’s serious philosophical concerns in Our
Town and admiration for his use of theatrical techniques. The play has been particularly
admired in Europe. Wilder’s influence can be seen in the Theatre of the Absurd
movement in 1960s.
Wilder’s next play after Or Town, called The Merchant of Yorkers, was also produced in
1938, but ran for only thirty-nine performances. Wilder later revised it and, as The
Matchmaker, it was a Broadway success in 1954. The Matchmaker was the inspiration
for the musical comedy “Hello Dolly!”, one of the longest running shows in Broadway.
In 1943, Wilder won his Pulitzer Prize for The Skin of Our Teeth. In recognition of his
important contribution to American writing, Wilder in 1963 was awarded the first
National Medal of Literature. He died on December 7, 1975, at Hamden, Connecticut.
Wilder’s friends included a broad spectrum of figures on both sides of the Atlantic:
Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Alexander Woollcott, Gene Tunney, Sigmund Freud, producer
Max Reinhardt, Katharine Cornell, Ruth Gordon and Garson Kanin. Wilder was
73
especially close to Gertrude Stein and became one of her most effective interpreters and
champions. Many of Wilder’s friendship are documented in his prolific correspondence.
Wilder believed that great letters constitute a “great branch of literature”. In a lecture
entitled On Reading the Great Letter Writers, he wrote that a letter can function as a
“literary exercise”, the “profile of a personality”, and “news of the soul”.
Thornton Wilder enjoyed acting and played major roles in several of his own plays in
summer theatre productions. He also possessed a lifelong love of music; reading musical
scores was a hobby, and he wrote the librettos for two operas based on his works: The
Long Christmas Dinner, with composer Paul Hindemith, and The Alcestiad, with
composer Louise Talma. Both works premiered in Germany.
2. MAIN CHARACTERS OF OUR TOWN.
The Stage Manager
The most important characters in the play is the Stage Manager, who has no name and
has only a minor role in the flow of the story, even if he has the longest part in the play,
the longest speeches, and he is always on the stage. The Stage Manager is an unusual
creation of Wilder’s play: he serves as the narrator, the master of ceremonies, a choir
voice, and a character playing various roles. His omnipresence throughout helps to unify
his unique drama.
He speaks in a folksy manners, just chatting with the audience, making homey
observation and sounding very commonsensical. He may sound unsophisticated, but his
character goes away back to the chorus in ancient Greek drama, and he has relatives in
medieval and renaissance plays as well. In ancient Greece, plays first appeared as part of
religious festivals. Important in each play was the chorus, generally of neutral observers
who commented on the action and told the audience about events that happened offstage.
The chorus frequently advised the audience how the were supposed to react to events on
stage and reinforced the moral message of the play. Characters serving a similar function
can also be found in the religious plays of the Middle Ages.
Wilder uses the Stage Manager to make clear that what we are watching is not reality, it
is fiction. In the play, the Stage Manager has the power to move time backward and
forward, and he knows what is yet to be. Although he is always there, the living
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characters never seem to be aware of his existence.
At the beginning of the play, the Stage Manager is assigned the task of ridiculing typical
theatrical conventions. He keeps reminding the audience that they are in a real theatre
watching a fictitious drama. He also adds some scenery and props to the barren stage for
those in the audience who feel that they need some. He also disseminates a great deal of
background information for the play. He defines the setting of the town, giving details
about the appearance of Grover’s Corners. He also introduces characters and tells a little
bit about them. At times he even tells what is to happen to the characters in the future,
seemingly unbound by time or space. In addition to giving flash-forward, the Stage
Manager also gives numerous flashbacks. He is the one that narrates the tale of how
George and Emily became a couple.
In Act II he became a philosopher. He comments on the action that takes place on the
stage and gives his opinion about life and death, which are really those of Thornton
Wilder.
In Act III the Stage Manager becomes increasingly vocal about his ideas, often answering
the questions posed to him by characters in the play. He also cautions Emily about going
back to earth.
From the beginning of the play to the very end, the Stage Manager steers the direction of
the drama, interacts with the characters, plays various roles, and guides the audience to a
better understanding of the theme. Most importantly, he holds the play together by his
omnipresence.
Emily Webb.
Emily is one of the main character of the play whose life and death is followed
throughout all three acts. At the beginning of the play, she is a bright young student who
is careful to excel in all that she does. She is also very aware of her abilities. Without
conceit, she admits: “[…] I’m the brightest girl in school for my age. I have a wonderful
memory”.
She is also a popular girl. George complains during the play that she is always busy and
surrounded by friends.
As a sixteen-year-old girl, Emily has become interested in boys. When George
approaches her and asks to carry her books, she is thrilled. She also eagerly agrees to help
him with his algebra homework. Additionally, she uses the opportunity to scold him for
not paying his friends more attention; of course, she is really concerned about him not
paying her attention. Because of her interest in boys, Emily is very conscious of her
75
appearance. She asks her mother if she is pretty.
Several time during the play, Emily is prone to romanticism. She tells George that she
expects her man to be perfect. She also enjoys nature, taking time to smell her heliotrope
and gaze at the moonlight.
It is not surprisingly that Emily chooses to marry George. She has grown up with him and
always been attached to him. On her wedding day, however, she is very nervous and
unsure of her decision. Her mother admits that she is probably too young for matrimony.
In the last act of the play, it is Emily who teaches the audience the theme of the drama.
Dying during the birth of her second child, Emily is too young and unprepared to face or
accept death. Unlike the older spirits who have embraced the peace of death, she longs to
return to earth and the familiar things in Grover’s Corners; she misses her husband and
her child. As a result, she decides she will go back to her hometown; she chooses to
relieve her twelfth birthday. The journey back is a horrible mistake. As she watches
herself as a twelve-year-old girl, she realizes how and her family had no appreciation of
life. They took everything for granted. Disillusioned bi this disregard for the wonders of
living, Emily says good-bye to Grover’s Corners to return to the peace of her grave. In
the process, she teaches the audience to appreciate everything in life: the ticking of a
clock, the smell of a sunflower, the wonder of a other’s love, and thousand other little
things taken for granted each day.
George Gibbs.
George Gibbs is the high school hero of Grover’s Corners; he is the champion pitcher of
the baseball team and president of his senior class. Unfortunately, his success go to his
head. He begins to act in a conceited way and ignores his family and friends for baseball.
It is Emily, his neighbour and future wife, who makes him see the errors of his way.
In many ways, George is a typical teenage boy. He does not like help with the chores
around the house and often lets his mother do things that he should be doing. He finds
school hard and constantly asks Emily for help on his homework. He fights with his
young sister, even throwing soap at her. He is a bit disorganized and he is also worried
about his limited funds and begs his mother to talk to his about increasing his allowance.
Like Emily, George is sometimes a dreamer. He wants to be a farmer and believes if he
goes and works for his uncle, a farmer, instead of going to college, he will some day
inherit the farm and be successful. Also like Emily, he is very nervous on the day of his
marriage. He is not sure that he is ready to accept the responsibilities of being a husband
and worries that he is growing old.
In the last act, George is only seen once; but Emily indicates that he has been a good
76
husband, father, and farmer. One of the most touching moments in the entire play is when
he comes to her grave on the night of her funeral. Stricken with the grief over the loss of
his wife, he throws himself on the grave and weeps.
3. THEMES, MOTIFS, SYMBOLS.
3.1 THEMES:
The Transience of Life.
Although Wilder explores the stability of human traditions and the reassuring
steadfastness of the natural environment, the individual human lives on “Our Town” are
transient, influenced greatly by the rapid passage of time. The Stage Manager often notes
that time seems to pass quickly for the people in the play. At one point, having not looked
at his watch for a while, the Stage Manager misjudges the time, which demonstrates that
sometimes even the timekeeper falls victim to the passage of time.
Considering the fact that human beings are powerless to stem the advance of time. Wilder
ponders whether humans truly appreciate the precious nature of a transience life. Act I
testifies the artfulness and value of routine daily activity. Simple acts such as eating
breakfast and feeding chickens become subject of dramatic scenes, indicating the
significance Wilder sees in such mundane events. Wilder juxtaposes this flurry of
everyday activity with the character’s inattentiveness to it. The character are unaware of
the details of their lives and tend to accept their circumstances passively. They maintain
the assumption that they have an indefinite amount of time on earth. Mrs Gibbs refrains
from insisting that her husband takes her to Paris because she thinks there will always be
time to convince him later. The dead souls in Act III emphasize this theme of transience,
disapproving and chastising the living for their ignorance and blindness. The dead even
view George’s grief and prostration upon Emily’s grave as a pitiable waste of human
time. Instead of grieving for the dead, they believe, the living should be enjoying the time
they still have on earth.
The medium of theatre perfectly suits Wilder’s intent to make ordinary lives and actions
seem extraordinary, as the perspective of the dead souls parallels the audience’s
perspective. Just as the dead soul’s distance finally enables them to appreciate the daily
events in Grover’s Corners, so too does the audience’s outsider perspective render daily
events valuable.
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The Importance of Companionship.
Because birth and death seem inevitable, the most important stage of life is the middle
one: the quest for companionship, friendship, and love. Humans have some degree of
control over this aspect of life. Though they may not be fully aware of their doing so, the
residents of Grover’s Corners constantly take time put of their days to connect with each
other. The most prominent interpersonal relationship in the play is romance – the
courtship and marriage of George and Emily – and Wilder suggests that love epitomizes
human creativity and achievement in the face of the inevitable advance of time.
Wilder depicts a number of different types of relationship, and though some are merely
platonic, all are significant. From the beginning of Act I, the Stage Manager seeks to
establish a relationship with the audience which forges a tie between the people onstage
and the audience offstage. Within the action of the play, we witness the milkman and the
paperboy, chatting with members of the Gibbs and Webb families as they deliver their
goods. The children walk to and from school in groups of pairs. Mrs Gibbs and Mrs
Webb meet in their yards to talk.
Even the play’s title, using the collective pronoun “our”, underscores the human desire
for community. Many aspects of the play attest to the importance of community and
companionship: the welcoming introduction from the Stage Manager, the audience’s
participation, and the, and the presence of numerous groups in the play, such as the choir,
the wedding party, the funeral party.
The Artificiality of Theatre.
Wilder does not pretend that this play represents a slice of real life. The events that occur
onstage could easily be moment in real life - a milkman delivers milk, a family has
breakfast, two young people fall in love - but Wilder undermines this appearance of
reality by filling the play with devices that emphasize the artificiality of theatre. The
Stage Manager is the most obvious of these devices, functioning as a sort of narrator or
modernized Greek chorus who comments on the play’s action while simultaneously
involving himself in it. He speaks directly to the audience and acknowledges our lack of
familiarity with Grover’s Corners and its inhabitants. He also manipulates the passage of
time, incorporating flashbacks that take us back in time to relive certain significant
moments. These intentional disruption of the play’s chronology prevents us from
believing that what we see onstage could de real.
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3.2 MOTIFS
The Stages of Life.
The division of the play’s narrative action into three acts reflects Wilder’s division of
human life into three parts: birth, love and marriage, and death. The play opens at the
dawn of a new day with a literal birth: at the very beginning of Act I, we learn that Doc
Gibbs has just delivered twins. Act II details George and Emily’s courtship and marriage.
Act III features a funeral. The overall arc of the story carries the audience from the
beginning of life to its end.
Our observation of the lives of the Gibbs and Webb families, leads us to realize that the
human experience is brief and precious. Indeed, Wilder demonstrates how quickly the
characters proceed from stage to stage. George and Emily marry in Act II, but they
appear just as nervous and childish as the do in Act I. The second stage of life has snuck
up on them. This intermingling of the stages of life recurs later, when the second stage of
Emily’s life – her marriage – is suddenly cut short when she dies in childbirth.
Natural Cycles.
While “Our Town” spans the course of many years, from 1899 through 1913, it also
collapses its events into the span of one day. It opens with a morning scene and ends with
a night time scene: Act I begins just before dawn, and Act III ands at 11 p.m. The play
also metaphorically spans the course of human life, tracing the path from birth in Doc
Gibbs’ delivery of twins in the opening scene, to death in Emily’s funeral in the final
scene. The span of a life parallels the span of the day: birth is related to dawn, and death
is related to night. Wilder’s attention to natural cycles highlights his themes of transience
of life and the power of time. While a single human life comprises only one finite
revolution from birth to death, the world continues to spin, mothers continue to give
birth, and human beings continue to exist as just one part of the universe.
Morning.
Morning scenes are prominent in each of the play’s three acts. Act I depicts the ordinary
morning activities of the townspeople. Act II portrays the Gibbs and Webb families on
the morning of Emily and George’s wedding, and Act III includes Emily’s return to the
morning of her twelfth birthday. Despite differences in context and circumstances, each
morning scene appears similar to the others, which emphasizes the lack of change in
Grover’s Corners. In each of the three scene, Howie Newsome delivers milk and a
Crowell boy delivers newspaper. Yet, while stability is clearly a feature of life in the
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town, Wilder shows that it often leads to indifference. Because each day appears more or
less the same as the previous one, the townspeople fail to observe or appreciate the
subtle, life-affirming peculiarities each day brings.
Wilder treats each of the three morning differently which highlights the subtle differences
between them. He represents the first morning s merely an average day, but as foreign
observers, we appreciate the novelty of the experience. Lastly, Wilder presents the
morning of Emily’s twelfth birthday through the eyes of her dead soul, a perspective that
gives the morning a truly extraordinary and beautiful transience. Wilder implies that
though mundane routines and events may generally be repetitive, the details are what
make life interesting and deserve attention.
The Manipulation of Time.
Events do not progress chronologically in “Our Town”. The Stage Manager has the
ability to cut scenes whenever he wishes, and can call up previous moments in the lives
of the characters at will. The most prominent of these manipulation of time are the
flashbacks to Mr Morgan’s soda fountain and to Emily’s twelfth birthday. Wilder
shuffles the flow of time within the play to engage, please, and inform his audience in
three ways. First, Wilder uses the lack of chronological order to engage his audience by
overturning their expectations of the theatre. Wilder shows us disparate moments,
reordering them in a way that best reflects his philosophical themes.
Second, the Stage Manager’s informal treatment of the flow of time adds to the play a
pleasing conversational tone.
Third, by including flashbacks within a linear narrative, Wilder reminds the audience
how shiftily time passes. The characters spend precious time flashing back in their own
minds, appreciating past moments in retrospect rather than recognizing the value of
moments as they occur in the present.
3.3 SYMBOLS.
The Time Capsule.
In Act I, the Stage Manager briefly mentions a time capsule that is being buried in the
foundation of a new building in town. The citizens of Grover’s Corners wish to include
the works of Shakespeare, the Constitution, and the Bible. The Stage manager says he
would like to throw a copy of “Our Town” into the time capsule as well. The time
capsule embodies the human desire to keep a record of the past. It also symbolizes the
idea that certain parts of the past deserve to be remembered over and above others.
Wilder wishes to challenge this letter notion. He has the Stage Manager place “Our
Town” into the capsule so the people opening it in the future will not only appreciate the
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daily lives of the townspeople from the past, but also their own daily lives in the future.
The self-referential notion of placing the play into the time capsule also carries symbolic
weight. The fact the “Our Town” is actually mentioned within “Our “Town” shows
Wilder’s intention to break down the wall that divides the world of the play from the
world of the audience. By mentioning his own play within his play, Wilder acknowledges
that his text is artificial, a literary creation.
Howie Newsome and the Crowell Boys.
Each of the three morning scenes in “Our Town” features the milkman, Howie Newsome,
and a paperboy, either Joe or Si Crowell. Throughout the play, the Stage Manager and
other characters such as Mrs Webb, discuss the stability of Grover’s Corners: nothing
changes much in the town. Howie and the Crowell boys illustrate the constancy of small
town life. They appear in 1901, just as they do in 1904 and in the flashback to 1899.
Because of Grover’s Corners is Wilder’s microcosm of human life in general, Howie
Newsome and the Crowells represent not only the stability of life in Grover’s Corners,
but the stability of human life in general.
The milkman and the paperboys embody the persistence of human life and the continuity
of the human experience from year to year, from generation to generation. Moreover, the
fact that Si replaces his brother Joe shows that the transience of individual lives actually
becomes a stabilizing force. Growing from birth toward death, humans show how the
finite changes in individual lives are simply part of stable cycles.
4. OUR TOWN FROM THE CURRENT PERSPECTIVE.
Thornton Wilder’s “ Our Town” comes in for its share of negative criticism. Most
stringent are comments about his refusal to deal with controversial elements of Grover’s
Corners, particularly bigotry, alcohol abuse, and sex discrimination. He seems to gloss
over the segregation of Polish and Canuck citizens, who appear to reside in a lesser
section of town across the tracks where the catholic church is located. Like the three
families with Cotahatchee blood, the non-WASP residents of the town seem to blend
harmlessly into the landscape, out of sight and out of mind.
In similar fashion. Wilder seems unwilling to tackle the larger question of Simon
Stimson’s alcoholism and resulting suicide, which receives pointed but benign
acknowledgement from Dr Ferguson, choir members, Constabe Warren, and the
undertaker.
Even though alcohol consumption was a serious issue at the turn of the century when
Carry Nation and hatchet-swinging members of the Women’s Christian Temperance
Union were demolishing saloons and urging drinkers to “take the pledge”, Wilder passes
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by his opportunity to mount the soapbox. He resorts instead to Dr Gibb’s comment: “[…]
Some people ain’t made for small town life”.
The playwright even allows Mr Webb to end the question pf local drinking habits with a
folksy, and erroneous, truism that “[…] likker is right for snake bites, y’know, always
was”.
The charge against Wilder of sex discrimination is perhaps overblown. Indeed, while
parcelling out meaningful work to his male characters, he anchors his female characters
within the stifling backwaters of “woman’s work”, notably school teaching, child care,
housework and farm chores.
Both Mrs Webb and Mrs Gibbs depict marital relationship which are obviously one-sided
affairs in which the husband dominates the decision-making process. And Mrs Gibbs
wittingly allows her husband to select the destination of family vacations and to browbeat
her about her evening at church as though she were a child needing his permission to be
out on the town streets after dark. On the other hand, women were still disenfranchised
in 1901 and did not obtain the right to vote until the passage of the Nineteenth
Amendment to the Constitution in 1920. Therefore, the acquiescence of Julia Gibbs,
Myrtle Webb, and Emily Webb to housewifely anonymity seems appropriate to the time
place. It is unfortunate that George is privileged to make the decision not to go to college
while Emily, who is more promising scholar, seems not to have the same choice. Still
young women of Emily’s days, particularly in rural locates, were fortunate just to finish
high school.
It is perhaps more significant that Wilder gives no details about Emily’s death. Certainly,
women died in childbirth at a greater rate in 1913 than now. Such a happening would
have seemed commonplace, as does Wally’s death from a burst appendix or Mrs Gibbs’
final pneumonia. It is good, however, that the playwright makes no mention of the fate of
Emily’s infant, especially since he indicates the whereabouts of Emily’s four-year old son
on the day of her burial.
Wilder’s refuge in these matters seems to be his desire to present a positive portrait of
small-town America. To his credit, he nods briefly towards the question of women’s
rights with Mr Webb’s admission that, as a young groom, he rejected his father’s advice
to force his wife into obedience. Emily is placed at the forefront of the play. It is Wilder’s
deliberate choice that a woman serves as the focus of the drama. Wilder is no way
demeans her feelings, desires, and intuitions. Rather, he elevates Emily by allowing her
to experience the central transformation. It is through the eyes of a young woman that the
audience perceives the key theme. As Emily experiences the blindness of her own family
to the joys of life, she bursts onto tears, too overcome by earthly beauty to express herself
any other way. Her delicacy and sensitivity are her saving grace. With womanly wisdom,
she internalises the fact that the living are incapable of valuing earthly treasures.
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BIBLIOGRAPHY
 Antonucci Giovanni, 1996 , “Storia del Teatro del Novecento”, Newton Comp-
ton.
 Bernard D. N. Grbanier, “Thornton Wilder”, Paperback.
 Jackson R. Bryer, “Conversation with Thornton Wilder”, Paperback.
 Paul Lifton, 1995 , “Vast Encyclopedia”: The Theater of Thornton Wilder (Con-
tributions in Drama and Theater Studies), Hardcover.
 Malcom Goldstein, “The Art of Thornton Wilder”, Hardcover.
 “Thornton Wilder Papers”, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale
University.
 Wilder Thornton, 1997 , “The Collected Short Plays of Thornton Wilder”, Paper-
back.
 Wilder Thornton, 1948 , “OUR TOWN, A PLAY IN THREE ACTS BY THORN-
TON WILDER”, Coward-McCann in cooperation with Samuel French Inc.
 Wilder Thornton, 2003 , “OUR TOWN, a Play in Three Acts”. HarperCollins
Publishers.
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