Out of the Wings

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Las voces de Penélope (1996-1997), Itziar Pascual Ortiz

Penelope's Voices, translated by Gwynneth Dowling

SCENE ONE

Context:
This is the beginning of the play. Penelope bids an unseen Ulysses farewell. The subtitle of this scene is 'Farewell Ulysses'.
Sample text

Sound of waves hitting the shore. On stage an enormous blue loom, the colour of hope. PENELOPE speaks in front of the loom, her back to the audience.

PENELOPE:

The day dawned smelling of spikenards and freesias. With a sense of rebirth. That was when I knew you were leaving. I had known before, but I had not wished to admit it. There is a kind of indifference in farewells. At least for whoever remains behind; for whoever sees the back of the one who leaves and not his face.

Your eyes became sad reflecting on the mist, on the stillness of Ithaca and its dense woodland. I was a weak anchor keeping you in port. And Agamemnon, the sovereign Atrides [1], was your excuse to set sail.

PENELOPE turns towards the public. She holds a ball of blue wool that she slowly untangles. In her movement she constructs a tower of hope.

PENELOPE:

Last night sleep embraced me warmly. And I saw your shadow departing our marriage bed of olivewood and silver. I saw corpses in the palace rooms and chambers, with the marks of your arrows poisoned by pride. I saw the passion of a woman prepared to offer you eternal life, just to lie with you. And I saw the dark mansion of Hades, where the victims and executioners of our thirst for power and justice meet.

Not ours, Ulysses. Yours. Now your thirst is for conquest. Well, go. My words are as full of love as they are of pain. Go. And even though it feels like a dagger at my throat each time I say it, I would say it a thousand times. Go now, with your thirst for time, the world, and life.

[1] ‘Atrides’ is another name for the Greek King Agamemnon. It derives from the name of King Atreus of Mycenae, who was Agamemnon’s father.

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation Penelope's Voices by Gwynneth Dowling is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

SCENE TWO

Context:
This is a short excerpt taken from scene 2. This scene is entitled 'The Goodbye' and features The Woman Who Waits for the first time. She is remembering the departure of her lover.
Sample text

On stage, THE WOMAN WHO WAITS is surrounded by an army of mismatched shoes, boots, sandals. She is putting them in their pairs, looking for the match of each one.

THE WOMAN WHO WAITS:

I had imagined saying them in a thousand ways. Those perverse two syllables: GOOD-BYE. Until the water brings us together again in the evening light. Until the air fills us with happiness or sadness. Until we meet again. I had imagined a thousand and one ways we would say goodbye. (Pause.) The real one was number one thousand and two.

He left.

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation Penelope's Voices by Gwynneth Dowling is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

SCENE THREE

Context:
The Friend of Penelope is on the phone with another friend, whose lover has just left her.
Sample text

On stage, THE FRIEND OF PENELOPE. She talks with her cheek on her shoulder and hand to her ear. She is walking round and round the Loom.

THE FRIEND OF PENELOPE:

What’s up? So? What did you say? So he’s left you ...? And when did he go? How awful. And what did he say to you? I get it. The same old story. How are you bearing up? That’s normal ... But are you just going to let him go off like that, as if it’s nothing? That would never happen to me. Not to me. I’ve made that very clear. No way. Why don’t you leave him? But why? You’re worth so much more.

[...]

THE FRIEND OF PENELOPE looks at her watch. She stops.

THE FRIEND OF PENELOPE:

Well, OK, it’s getting late. (Pause.) No. No, it’s Carlos. (Pause.) It’s just he’s been under the weather for a few days so I’m going to make him dinner. (Pause.) His cholesterol levels are up and he’s on plain foods. It’s nothing serious. (Pause.) Well you know what they’re like: it’s all, can you make me a little rice, I’m so tired, come by the house and we’ll eat together ... I know, I know, I know ...

When it comes down to it, they're all the same. (Long pause.)

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation Penelope's Voices by Gwynneth Dowling is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

SCENE NINE

Context:
THE WOMAN WHO WAITS, alone on stage, delivers a monologue directed to her absent lover. She is clearly very affected by his absence.
Sample text

THE WOMAN WHO WAITS is surrounded by little strips of blue see-through fabric, candles in little vessels. She lights a cigarette which she smokes unhurriedly, letting the smoke drift out all over the room.

THE WOMAN WHO WAITS:

I never said to you ‘beat me’.

But I call up memories of you and they strike me.

I never said to you ‘tie me up’.

But your eyes have blinded my steps. And I only see you.

I never said to you ‘insult me’.

But your distance offends me. And I curse you even while I love you.

I never said to you ‘spit on me’.

But at night your mouth assaults me and I embrace your breath between my sheets.

I never said to you ‘lie to me’.

But I decorate your picture with lies. And you become a mythical hero.

I never said to you ‘drown me’.

But your silence ties itself round my neck. And my throat fills with anxiety.

I never said to you ‘kill me’.

But when I lose your image I despise life.

You aren’t here. And your absence assaults me, insults me, spits on me, lies to me, drowns me, kills me.

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation Penelope's Voices by Gwynneth Dowling is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

SCENE ELEVEN

Context:
The Friend of Penelope is talking to an invisible listener, telling her firstly of the brief argument she had with another friend, then of her shock at seeing her boyfriend Carlos in the bar with another woman.
Sample text

THE FRIEND OF PENELOPE is sitting in a white robe with huge rollers in her hair. Her speech is fast and frenetic.

THE FRIEND OF PENELOPE:

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe it. But that’s what they’re like. Bastards. I mean – they should be made recyclable. Tell everyone. Call your work colleagues, your friends, your family. And you ... and her, I mean ... I don’t know what I’m saying!

Well it’s like this. Me, totally unaware, believing I knew, that she had got over it. She hadn’t told me. Well ... it was a joke. How was I supposed to know that ...! Well anyway, listen: it was all whether he still mattered, how was she, that she told me nothing ... And then, just imagine it! She went white as a sheet, staring into the distance somewhere. I didn’t know what to say. ‘He’s coming back,’ she said. And me - 'You’re winding me up, stop pulling my leg!' And her saying nothing. Staring at nothing. And I began to get angry. I went red as a beetroot. And here, what a scene, I can’t believe it, but really? And her there, even more uptight and getting paler. And then me looking for a smoke, where’s the bloody tobacco? She got up to go the bathroom and I took the chance to ask for the bill. It was the least I could do, pay the bill, after putting my foot in it. And who did I see? Carlos. You heard right. Carlos – he of the cooked meals, the cholesterol and the plain diet; he of the ‘come and make me dinner’, ‘it hurts here, and here, and here’; he of ‘I can’t come and pick you up’ and he of ‘your problems are nothing compared to mine’. The very same.

And he seemed perfectly well. Very happy. No aches or pains. He was knocking back some drink, not exactly aspirin. On his own? No! With some blonde, dyed of course. With huge plumped-up lips. And then, and then ... I focused on the tip, on the coins on the little brass plate. And then a drink was thrown over someone, male, 1 metre 85 tall, 29 years old, a bachelor, and determined to ruin someone's life. Mine!

She grabbed my arm and got me out of that horrible, horrible, horrible place.

Long pause, almost endless.

Hey – do you think I made him angry? Darkness.

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation Penelope's Voices by Gwynneth Dowling is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

Entry written by Gwynneth Dowling. Last updated on 13 November 2010.

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