Next on the script shelf:
Next Tennessee Williams play on the shelf is A Perfect Analysis Given By a Parrot, included in The Theatre of Tennessee Williams, Vol. 7: In the Bar of a Tokyo Hotel, and Other Plays
This is a one-act written in 1958. There’s really not much TO it … the ending kind of leaves you with nothing … but the dialogue, I think, is very good. There’s just no story. I think some of these one-act plays (and I’ve read them all) are places where Williams would experiment … or … he would have a THEME that he couldn’t get out of his mind … something … and so to start off, he’d put that theme into a one-act. That seems to have happened quite a bit. Later on, that same theme (or even same characters, etc) might show up in a huge complex three-act play … but he would start off with the one-act. Just to get it OUT.
A Perfect Analysis Given By a Parrot takes place in a divey bar in St. Louis. Two giggly over-the-top women, dressed in violently loud colors, with enormous flouncy hats, enter … They are from Memphis and are members of the “Women’s Auxiliary of the Jackson Haggerty Post of the Sons of Mars” – and they are in St. Louis for the National Convention of the Sons of Mars which happens once a year. Their names are Flora and Bessie. They are looking for a good time. They are nearing 40 and yet they are “boy crazy”. There’s something adolescent about them. Every year they go to the National Convention. And they pretty much tag along with “the boys” … Or they hang out in hotel bars looking for “fun” – which means picking up men. And yet – they’re kind of fussy fidgety prissy women with their hats, their gloves, their giggles … It’s an interesting contrast. As the play opens, they have lost the “boys” from Sons of Mars that they were tagging along – So they stop off at this tavern for a drink.
I’ll excerpt a snippet from their conversation. It’s interesting – in terms of character development, and the theme that Williams seems to be working on.
From A Perfect Analysis Given By a Parrot, included in The Theatre of Tennessee Williams, Vol. 7: In the Bar of a Tokyo Hotel, and Other Plays
BESSIE. A Son of Mars wouldn’t blow his nose on this place.
FLORA. Well, you was all for stoppin’ at th’ Statler.
BESSIE. And what’s wrong with the Statler?
FLORA. When did we ever have any luck at the Statler?
BESSIE. Twice.
FLORA. In whose recollection?
BESSIE. Mine! You wasn’t along.
FLORA. Nope, I guess I wasn’t.
BESSIE. But you’ve heard me speak of that restaurant man from Chicago?
FLORA. Heard you speak of him? Continually — yes …
BESSIE. The Statler was where I made that man’s acquaintance.
FLORA. And well do I remember how that turned out.
BESSIE. I don’t regret it; I have no regret whatsoever.
FLORA. Bessie, you’ve got no pride where men are concerned.
BESSIE. [slowly and sententiously] No, I’ve got no pride where men are concerned, and you haven’t got any pride where men are concerned and nobody’s got any pride where men are concerned. That’s how it is, so let’s face it! I’m not coldhearted and when I get out with a boy I am just as anxious as he is to have a good time.
FLORA. More.
BESSIE. Yes, that’s right, often more. That is to say, I always go halfway with him.
FLORA. More than halfway, honey.
BESSIE. Yes, I sometimes even go more than halfway and I see no reason why I should be criticized for it.
FLORA. Nobody’s spoken a word of criticism.
BESSIE. I do my part to create some happiness in the world, even if it’s just for one night only. It isn’t a crime to give a good time and a pleasant memory, even to a stranger.
FLORA. Whoever said that it was?
BESSIE. Some people seem to take that attitude.
FLORA. I certainly never.
BESSIE. You talked about pride as if I didn’t have any. [She leans back with considerable effort in order to stare at Flora from under the brim of the cartwheel]
FLORA. [quickly] I said false pride, not pride. There’s a difference, Bessie.
BESSIE. That’s exactly what I was pointing out.
FLORA. All I mean is a girl mustn’t compromise with her self-respect.
BESSIE. She don’t need to — and I don’t see why she should.
FLORA. That’s exactly the point I was making.
BESSIE. Except you sometimes go to the other extreme.
FLORA. I do?
BESSIE. Uh-huh.
FLORA. Extreme of what, may I ask?
BESSIE. Self — respect.
FLORA. You mean I’m not a good sport?
BESSIE. That is just the opposite of my meaning.
FLORA. Your meaning is private as far as I am concerned.
BESSIE. The trouble with you is your mind wanders off a subject but you go right on chopping your gums together as if you weighed every single word that was spoken. [She is powdering her face furiously] That’s what makes it so difficult to talk with you!
FLORA. Oh — foot! [She looks slowly and wearily away from her girlfriend, but Bessie’s look remains on Flora. Flora’s head begins to droop like a heavy flower on a thin stem]
BESSIE. [suspiciously] A penny for your thoughts, Miss Merriweather.
FLORA. I had my character read this afternoon.
BESSIE. Who by? A gypsy?
FLORA. No, it was read by a parrot.
BESSIE. Are you kidding?
FLORA. No, I gave a man a dime and he opened the parrot’s cage and the parrot hopped out and stuck his head in a box and picked up a piece of paper in his beak. I took the piece of paper and guess what it said?
BESSIE. How would I guess what it said on that piece of paper?
FLORA. I’ll tell you, Bessie. “You have a sensitive nature, and are frequently misunderstood by your close companions!”
BESSIE. Huh!
FLORA. Imagine it, Bessie. A perfect analysis given by a parrot!
BESSIE. I don’t have very much faith in that sort of thing. [Flora tilts her head way back to give her girlfriend a long and critical look]
BESSIE. [nervously] Well?
FLORA. Wipe your chin off, Bessie. You’ve got foam on it.
BESSIE. Thank you, Miss Merriweather. [There is a pause] May I ask you a question?
FLORA. [suspiciously] What, Miss Higginbotham?
BESSIE. Are you still keeping up those Youthful Beauty treatments?
FLORA. I had a Youthful Beauty treatment this afternoon.
BESSIE. How are you satisfied with what they’re doing?
FLORA. I have noticed one-hundred-percent improvement in my skin since I started taking those Youthful Beauty treatments, Bessie.
BESSIE. I’m glad you’ve noticed it, honey.
FLORA. Why, haven’t you?
BESSIE. [lighting a cigarette] Flora, your main beauty problem is not blackheads. It’s large pores, honey.
FLORA. [with fierce conviction] I haven’t a single blackhead left in my face, just a few little whiteheads, and this little do-hickey here which is just a spot where I squeezed out one with a hairpin!
BESSIE. Well, Flora, your problem is skin and you might as well face it.
FLORA. Everyone’s problem is skin, including yours, Bessie. But of course your primary problem is keeping down weight.
BESSIE. I am a type that can carry a good deal of weight because I have large bone structure. However, it’s always been well-distributed on me.
FLORA. As long as you won’t face facts, it’s no use talking. Complacency’s one thing and — optimism’s another!
BESSIE. What does a man look at with greater int’rest, a straight-back chair or a rocker?
FLORA. Depends on the man an’ the relative size of the rocker.
