The Sheila Variations

The Books: "The Glass Menagerie" (Tennessee Williams)

Next in my Daily Book Excerpt:

The next play on the script shelf is:

Next Tennessee Williams play? His first success, the play that made him a star: The Glass Menagerie.

After the flop of his first play, Battle of Angels, Williams went back to work. The Glass Menagerie opened in 1944 in Chicago - before moving to New York. To say it was a success is to make the word "success" utterly meaningless. Here are a couple of the things I have written before about this play, and Tennessee Williams, if you're interested:

Tennessee Williams: "that nice little guy" (That's about the opening in Chicago)

The Glass Menagerie, continued

Happy birthday, Tennessee Williams

The first production of Glass Menagerie (especially in Chicago - before it moved to New York) is one of those events where - dammit - I wish I had a time machine. What I wouldn't give to have been there ...

I will post an excerpt from the scene where Tom tells his mother (Amanda) that they will be having a "gentleman caller" the next evening. The tragedy of the ending of this play hovers and trembles through every line of this scene. Because the high-flying hopes, the wishes, the dreams ... that all go shooting through the ceiling at the expectation of this gentleman caller's visit ... are bound to come back to earth someday. Amanda is a fantasist. Watch how she hears the news, prosaic really, that they will have company for dinner - watch how she hears that news and leaps off the cliff into the abyss of a fantasy. I know people who do that. Hell, I've done it myself. To pretty much disastrous results. But Amanda lives her life that way. It's a runaway train - and Tom can't put on the brakes.

I love the part where Tom tells Amanda the gentleman caller's last name and her immediate response is: "That, of course, means fish. Tomorrow is Friday."

EXCERPT FROM The Glass Menagerie, by Tennessee Williams

AMANDA. What are you looking at?

TOM. The moon.

AMANDA. Is there a moon this evening?

TOM. It's rising over Garfinkel's Delicatessen.

AMANDA. So it is! A little silver slipper of a moon. Have you made a wish on it yet?

TOM. Um-hum.

AMANDA. What did you wish for?

TOM. That's a secret.

AMANDA. A secret, huh? Well, I won't tell you mine either. I will be just as mysterious as you.

TOM. I bet I can guess what yours is.

AMANDA. Is my head so transparent?

TOM. You're not a sphinx.

AMANDA. No, I don't have secrets. I'll tell you what I wished for on the moon. Success and happiness for my precious children! I wish for that whenever there's a moon, and when there isn't a moon, I wish for it, too.

TOM. I thought perhaps you wished for a gentleman caller.

AMANDA. Why do you say that?

TOM. Don't you remember asking me to fetch one?

AMANDA. I remember suggesting that it would be nice for your sister if you brought home some nice young man from the warehouse. I think that I've made that suggestion more than once.

TOM. Yes, you have made it repeatedly.

AMANDA. Well?

TOM. We are going to have one.

AMANDA. What?

TOM. A gentleman caller!

[The annunciation is celebrated with music. Amanda rises. Image on screen: A caller with a bouquet]

AMANDA. You mean you have asked some nice young man to come over?

TOM. Yup. I've asked him to dinner.

AMANDA. You really did?

TOM. I did!

AMANDA. You did, and did he -- accept?

TOM. He did!

AMANDA. Well, well -- well, well! That's -- lovely!

TOM. I thought that you would be pleased.

AMANDA. It's definite then?

TOM. Very definite.

AMANDA. Soon?

TOM. Very soon.

AMANDA. For heaven's sake, stop putting on and tell me some things, will you?

TOM. What things do you want me to tell you?

AMANDA. Naturally I would like to know when he's coming!

TOM. He's coming tomorrow.

AMANDA. Tomorrow?

TOM. Yes. Tomorrow.

AMANDA. But, Tom!

TOM. Yes, Mother?

AMANDA. Tomorrow gives me no time!

TOM. Time for what?

AMANDA. Preparation! Why didn't you phone me at once, as soon as you asked him, the minute that he accepted? Then, don't you see, I could have been getting ready!

TOM. You don't have to make any fuss.

AMANDA. Oh, Tom, Tom, Tom, of course I have to make a fuss! I want things nice, not sloppy! Not thrown together. I'll certainly have to do some fast thinking, won't I?

TOM. I don't see why you have to think at all.

AMANDA. You just don't know. We can't have a gentlemancaller in a pigsty! All my wedding silver has to be polished, the monogrammed table linen ought to be laundered! The windows have to be washed and fresh curtains put up. And how about clothes? We have to wear something, don't we?

TOM. Mother, this boy is no one to make a fuss over!

AMANDA. Do you realize he's the first young man we've introduced to your sister? It's terrible, dreadful, disgraceful that poor little sister has never received a single gentleman caller! Tom, come inside! [She opens the screen door]

TOM. What for?

AMANDA. I want to ask you some things.

TOM. If you're going to make such a fuss, I'll call it off, I'll tell him not to come!

AMANDA. You certainly won't do anything of the kind. Nothing offends people worse than broken engagements. It simply means I'll have to work like a Turk! We won't be brilliant, but we will pass inspection. Come on inside. Tom follows her inside, groaning] Sit down.

TOM. Any particular place you would like me to sit?

AMANDA. Thank heavens I've got that new sofa! I'm also making payments on a floor lamp I'll have sent out! And put the chintz covers on, they'll brighten things up! Of course I'd hoped to have these walls re-papered ... What is the young man's name?

TOM. His name is O'Connor.

AMANDA. That, of course, means fish -- tomorrow is Friday! I'll have that salmon loaf -- with Durkee's dressing! What does he do? He works at the warehouse?

TOM. Of course! How else would I --

AMANDA. Tom, he -- doesn't drink?

TOM. Why do you ask me that?

AMANDA. Your father did!

TOM. Don't get started on that!

AMANDA. He does drink, then?

TOM. Not that I know of!

AMANDA. Make sure, be certain! The last thing I want for my daughter's a boy who drinks!

TOM. Aren't you being a little premature? Mr. O'Connor has not yet appeared on the scene!

AMANDA. But will tomorrow. To meet your sister, and what do I know about his character? Nothing! Old maids are better off than wives of drunkards!

TOM. Oh, my God!

AMANDA. Be still!

TOM. [leaning forward to whisper] Lots of fellows meet girls whom they don't marry!

AMANDA. Oh, talk sensibly, Tom -- and don't be sarcastic! [She has gotten a hairbrush]

TOM. What are you doing?

AMANDA. I'm brushing that cowlick down! [She attacks his hair with the brush] What is this young man's position at the warehouse?

TOM. [submitting grimly to the brush and the interrogation] This young man's position is that of a shipping clerk, Mother.

AMANDA. Sounds to me like a fairly responsible job, the sort of a job you would be in if you just had more get-up. What is his salary? Have you any idea?

TOM. I would judge it to be approximately eighty-five dollars a month.

AMANDA. Well -- not princely, but --

TOM. Twenty more than I make.

AMANDA. Yes, how well I know! But for a family man, eighty-five dollars a month is not much more than you can just get by on ...

TOM. Yes, but Mr. O'Connor is not a family man.

AMANDA. He might be, mightn't he? Some time in the future?

TOM. I see. Plans and provisions.

AMANDA. You are the only young man that I know of who ignores the fact that the future becomes the present, the present the past, and the past turns into everlasting regret if you don't plan for it!

TOM. I will think that over and see what I can make of it.

AMANDA. Don't be supercilious with your mother! Tell me some more about this -- what do you call him?

TOM. James D. O'Connor. The D. is for Delaney.

AMANDA. Irish on both sides! Gracious! And doesn't drink?

TOM. Shall I call him up and ask him right this minute?

AMANDA. The only way to find out about those things is to make discreet inquiries at the proper moment. When I was a girl in Blue Mountain and it was suspected that a young man drank, the girl whose attentions he had been receiving, if any girl was, would sometimes speak to the minister of his church, or rather her father would if her father was living, and sort of feel him out on the young man's character. That is the way such things are discreetly handled to keep a young woman from making a tragic mistake!

TOM. Then how did you happen to make a tragic mistake?

AMANDA. That innocent look of your father's had everyone fooled! He smiled -- the world was enchanted! No girl can do worse than put herself at the mercy of a handsome appearance! I hope that Mr. O'Connor is not too good-looking.

TOM. No, he's not too good-looking. He's covered with freckles and hasn't too much of a nose.

AMANDA. He's not right-down homely, though?

TOM. Not right-down homely. Just medium homely, I'd say.

AMANDA. Character's what to look for in a man.

TOM. That's what I've always said, Mother.

AMANDA. You've never said anything of the kind and I suspect you would never give it a thought.

TOM. Don't be so suspicious of me.

AMANDA. At least I hope he's the type that's up and coming.

TOM. I think he really goes in for self-improvement.

AMANDA. What reason have you to think so?

TOM. He goes to night school.

AMANDA. [beaming] Splendid! What does he do, I mean, study?

TOM. Radio engineering and public speaking.

AMANDA. Then he has visions of being advanced in the world! Any young man who studies public speaking is aiming to have an executive job some day! And radio engineering? A thing for the future! Both of these facts are very illuminating. Those are the sort of things that a mother should know concerning any young man who comes to call on her daughter. Seriously or -- not.

TOM. One little warning. He doesn't know about Laura. I didn't let on that we had dark ulterior motives. I just said, why don't you come and have dinner with us? He said okay and that was the whole conversation.

AMANDA. I bet it was! You're eloquent as an oyster. However, he'll know about Laura when he gets here. When he sees how lovely and sweet and pretty she is, he'll thank his lucky stars he was asked to dinner.

TOM. Mother, you mustn't expect too much of Laura.

AMANDA. What do you mean?

TOM. Laura seems all those things to you and me because she's ours and we love her. We don't even notice she's crippled any more.

AMANDA. Don't say cripped! You know that I never allow that word to be used!

TOM. But face facts, Mother. She is and -- that's not all --

AMANDA. What do you mean "not all"?

TOM. Laura is very different from other girls.

AMANDA. I think the difference is all to her advantage.

TOM. Not quite all -- in the eyes of others -- strangers -- she's terribly shy and lives in a world of her own and those things make her seem a little peculiar to people outside the house.

AMANDA. Don't say peculiar.

TOM. Face the facts. She is.

[The dance hall music changes to a tango that has a minor and somewhat ominous tone]

AMANDA. In what way is she peculiar -- may I ask?

TOM. [gently] She lives in a world of her own -- a world of little glass ornaments, Mother ... [He gets up. Amanda remains holding the brush, looking at him, troubled] She plays old phonograph records and -- that's about all -- [He glances at himself in the mirror and crosses to the door]

AMANDA. [sharply] Where are you going?

TOM. I'm going to the movies. [He goes out the screen door]

AMANDA. Not to the movies, every night to the movies! [She follows him quickly to the screen door] I don't believe you always go to the movies! [He is gone. Amanda looks worriedly after him for a moment. Then vitality and optimism return and she turns from the door, crossing to the portieres] Laura! Laura!

[Laura answers from the kitchenette]

LAURA. Yes, Mother.

AMANDA. Let those dishes go and come in front! [Laura appears with a dish towel. Amanda speaks to her gaily] Laura, come here and make a wish on the moon!

[Screen image: The Moon]

LAURA. [entering] Moon -- moon?

AMANDA. A little silver slipper of a moon. Look over your left shoulder, Laura, and make a wish! [Laura looks faintly puzzled as if called out of sleep. Amanda seizese her shoulders and turns her at an angle by the door.] Now! Now, darling, wish!

LAURA. What shall I wish for, Mother?

AMANDA. [her voice trembling and her eyes suddenly filling with tears] Happiness! Good fortune!

[The sound of the violin rises and the stage dims out]

Posted by sheila