The Books: “The Dumb Waiter” (Harold Pinter)

Next in my Daily Book Excerpt:

Next on the script shelf:

Dumbwaiter.jpgNext on the shelf: another Harold Pinter play, my favorite one: The Dumb Waiter

It’s two guys in a basement room, waiting for … something … some message to come. There’s a dumb waiter. The two guys are similar to Goldberg and McCann in The Birthday Party – there’s the obviously senior partner, and then the younger more inexperienced one. Like any buddy movie. They’re obviously hit men of some kind. And as the play progresses, the feeling of menace grows – this play is inexplixably ominous. And the two characters – Gus and Ben – it’s almost like there’s an unspoken rule between them to not talk about what they are doing. And gradually, you get the feeling that maybe they aren’t really partners … that there’s some kind of setup here … that one partner knows way more about the upcoming job than the other and isn’t divulging the information …

Ah whatever. It’s classic Pinter. Filled with menace, and long pauses … none of it arbitrary … and yet the ultimate meaning is elusive.

Anyway, the play opens. They wait. They shoot the shit. They read the paper. They bicker. Then – suddenly – an envelope is slid under the door. This is obviously not part of the plan. They glance at each other. Nervous. They open the envelope. Inside is a book of matches. This is not at all in the plan. They don’t know what the message is.

Ben, the leader of the two, tries to hide his worry – while Gus, the younger, starts to freak out.

Again, notice the specificity of the Pinter pauses.


EXCERPT FROM The Dumb Waiter, by Harold Pinter.

GUS. I wonder who it’ll be tonight.

[Silence]

Eh, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.

BEN. [putting his legs on the bed] Oh, for Christ’s sake.

GUS. No. I was going to ask you something.

[He rises and sits on Ben’s bed]

BEN. What are you sitting on my bed for?

[Gus sits]

What’s the matter with you? You’re always asking me questions. What’s the matter with you?

GUS. Nothing.

BEN. You never used to ask me so many damn questions. What’s come over you?

GUS. No, I was just wondering.

BEN. Stop wondering. You’ve got a job to do. Why don’t you just do it and shut up?

GUS. That’s what I was wondering about.

BEN. What?

GUS. The job.

BEN. What job?

GUS. [tentatively] I thought perhaps you might know something.

[Ben looks at him.]

I thought perhaps you — I mean — have you got any idea — who’s it going to be tonight?

BEN. Who what’s going to be?

[They look at each other]

GUS. [at length] Who it’s going to be.

[Silence]

BEN. Are you feeling all right?

GUS. Sure.

BEN. Go and make the tea.

GUS. Yes, sure.

[Gus exits, Ben looks after him. He then takes his revolver from under the pillow and checks it for ammunition. Gus re-enters]

The gas has gone out.

BEN. Well, what about it?

GUS. There’s a meter.

BEN. I haven’t got any money.

GUS. Nor have I.

BEN. You’ll have to wait.

GUS. What for?

BEN. For Wilson.

GUS. He might not come. He might just send a message. He doesn’t always come.

BEN. Well, you’ll have to do without it, won’t you?

GUS. Blimey.

BEN. You’ll have a cup of tea afterwards. What’s the matter with you?

GUS. I like to have one before.

[Ben holds the revolver up to the light and polishes it]

BEN. You’d better get ready anyway.

GUS. Well, I don’t know, that’s a bit much, you know, for my money. [He picks up a packet of tea from the bed and throws it into the bag] I hope he’s got a shilling, anyway, if he comes. He’s entitled to have. After all, it’s his place, he could have seen there was enough gas for a cup of tea.

BEN. What do you mean, it’s his place?

GUS. Well, isn’t it?

BEN. He’s probably only rented it. It doesn’t have to be his place.

GUS. I know it’s his place. I bet the whole house is. He’s not even laying on any gas now either. [Gus sits on his bed] It’s his place all right. Look at all the other places. You go to this address, there’s a key there, there’s a teapot, there’s never a soul in sight — [He pauses] Eh, nobody ever hears a thing, have you ever thought of that? We never get any complaints, do we, too much noise or anything like that? You never see a soul, do you? — except the bloke who comes. You ever noticed that? I wonder if the walls are sound-proof. [He touches the wall above his bed] Can’t tell. All you do is wait, eh? Half the time he doesn’t even bother to put in an appearance, Wilson.

BEN. Why should he? He’s a busy man.

GUS. I find him hard to talk to, Wilson. Do you know that, Ben?

BEN. Scrub round it, will you?

[Pause]

GUS. There are a number of things I want to ask him. But I can never get round to it, when I see him.

[Pause]

I’ve been thinking about the last one.

BEN. What last one?

GUS. That girl.

[Ben grabs the paper, which he reads. Gus rises, looking down at Ben] How many times have you read that paper?

[Ben slams down the paper and rises]

BEN. [angrily] What do you mean?

GUS. I was just wondering how many times you’d —

BEN. What are you doing, criticizing me?

GUS. No, I was just —

BEN. You’ll get a swipe round your earhole if you don’t watch your step.

GUS. Now look here, Ben —

BEN. I’m not looking anywhere! [He addresses the room] How many times have I — ! A bloody liberty!

GUS. I didn’t mean that.

BEN. You just get on with it, mate. Get on with it, that’s all.

[Ben gets back on the bed]

GUS. I was just thinking about that girl, that’s all.

[Gus sits on the bed]

She wasn’t much to look at, I know, but still. It was a mess though, wasn’t it? What a mess. Honest, I can’t remember a mess like that one. They don’t seem to hold together like men, women. A looser texture, like. Didn’t she spread, eh? She didn’t half spread. Kaw! I’ve been meaning to ask you.

[Ben sits up and clenches his eyes]

Who clears up after we’re gone? I’m curious about that. Who does the clearing up? Maybe they don’t clear up. Maybe they just leave them there, eh? What do you think? How many jobs have we done? Blimey, I can’t count them. What if they never clear anything up after we’ve gone.

BEN. [pityingly] You mutt. Do you think we’re the only branch of this organization? Have a bit of common. They got departments for everything.

GUS. What cleaners and all?

BEN. You birk!

GUS. No, it was that girl made me start to think —

[There is a loud clatter and racket in the bulge of wall between the beds, of something descending. They grab their revolvers, jump up and face the wall. The noise comes to a stop. Silence. They look at each other. Ben gestures sharply towards the wall. Gus approaches the wall slowly. He bangs it with his revolver. It is hollow. Ben moves to the head of the bed, his revolver cocked. Gus puts his revolver on his bed and pats along the bottom of the center panel. He finds a rim. He lifts the panel. Disclosed is a serving-hatch, a ‘dumb waiter’. A wide box is held by pulleys. Gus peers into the box. He brings out a piece of paper.]

BEN. What is it?

GUS. You have a look at it.

BEN. Read it.

GUS. [reading] Two braised steak and chips. Two sago puddings. Two teas without sugar.

BEN. Let me see that. [He takes the paper]

GUS. [to himself] Two teas without sugar.

BEN. Mmmmm.

GUS. What do you think of that?

BEN. Well —

[The box goes up. Ben levels his revolver]

GUS. Give us a chance! They’re in a hurry, aren’t they?

[Ben re-reads the note. Gus looks over his hsoulder]

That’s a bit — that’s a bit funny, isn’t it?

BEN. No. It’s not funny. It probably used to be a cafe here, that’s all. Upstairs. These places change hands very quickly.

GUS. A cafe?

BEN. Yes.

GUS. What, you mean this was the kitchen, down here?

BEN. Yes, they change hands overnight, these places. Go into liquidation. The people who run it, you know, they don’t find it a going concern, they move out.

GUS. You mean the people who ran this place didn’t find it a going concern and moved out?

BEN. Sure.

GUS. WELL, WHO’S GOT IT NOW?

[Silence]

BEN. What do you mean, who’s got it now?

GUS. Who’s got it now? If they moved out, who moved in?

BEN. Well, that all depends —

[The box descends with a clatter and bang. Ben levels his revolver. Gus goes to the door and brings out a piece of paper]

GUS. [reading] Soup of the day. Liver and onions. Jam tart.

[A pause. Gus looks at Ben. Ben takes the note and reads it.He walks slowly to the hatch. Gus follows. Ben looks into the hatch but not up it. Gus puts his hand on Ben’s shoulder. Ben throws it off. Gus puts a finger to his mouth. He leans on the hatch and swiftly looks up it. Ben flings him away in alarm. Ben looks at the note. He throws his revolver on the bed and speaks with decision]

BEN. We’d better send something up.

GUS. Eh?

BEN. We’d better send something up.

GUS. Oh! Yes. Yes. Maybe you’re right.

This entry was posted in Books, Theatre and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.