The Books: “The Great Nebula in Orion” (Lanford Wilson)

Next on the script shelf

Next play in my little unalphabetized pile of Samuel French plays is a one-act by Lanford Wilson – called The Great Nebula in Orion

Two old college friends – Carrie and Louise – who have not seen each other in 6 years – bump into each other in Bergdorf’s. After exclaiming and carrying on, Louise invites Carrie to come back to her apartment for a cup of coffee – so they can catch up. The play is that “catch up’ conversation in Louise’s incredible apt. overlooking Central Park.

One very funny thing about this play is that the two characters are constantly turning and speaking to the audience – confiding in the audience. It’s supposed to be private – like, what Carrie says to the audience will not be heard by Louise, and vice versa – but there are moments when it is acknowledged by the other what is going on. It’s like they give each other the space to have their moments with the audience. Like Louise starts to say something to Carrie, notices that she is talking to the audience, and says, “Oh. Excuse me” and goes back to what she was doing. It would have to be played just right in order to work – but I think it’s hysterical. It’s also poignant – a way to let the audience know the inner feelings. Because this is a meeting between people who haven’t seen each other in years – not a lot of TRUTH is being told. But they both turn and tell the truth to the audience – how hard it is to see that the friend is growing old, because it means they are growing old, etc. Carrie and Louise are not just carefree old friends – there’s a lot underneath – a lot not being said. But in this particular play, they get to say it to the audience. (In a way it reminds me of one of my favorite JD Salinger short stories Uncle Wiggly in Connecticut. It has the same “plot”. The same tragic undertones.)

Things are not what they seem with these two old friends. Carrie was once an activist – she dated poets, etc. – she then married David, a wealthy guy, and now has 2 kids and lives in a suburb of Boston. She’s kind of adrift but she does all the right things – bridge clubs, golf, etc. But … there’s something missing in her life … meaning, maybe? And Louise is single – a fashion designer – highly successful – no kids, no marriage … their lives are completely different now … but by the end of the play, they’ve both had about 3 brandies and they’re pretty LOOPED and all of the subtext comes flooding out. It’s gorgeous. I’d love to play either one of these characters. They’re beautifully written.

I’ll excerpt from the middle of the play. They’re both already a bit trashed. Notice the to-the-audience comments, and how they are almost casual – as though this whole thing is happening in retrospect, and they are narrating their own lives.

From The Great Nebula in Orion, by Lanford Wilson

CARRIE. We used to sit on the beach at night. It was incredible. You’ve never seen skies like they have. And the nights aren’t really cold but you need a sweater. We used to build up a bonfire. There’s tons of driftwood around on the beach that washes up and we dragged it in from everywhere. You could have seen it for miles out to sea. You aren’t supposed to but no one says anything. There was a group of probably twenty of us. Dick and I used to wander out down the beach — you couldn’t get lost — and you could see the fire wiht little people running off and dragging up more wood all the time. I even learned a few of the constellations. They’re really easy. I mean at first they’re just stars, but once you start getting them placed in your mind the whole sky starts dividing up into patterns like a quilt. And you can’t look up without seeing, recognizing, Andromeda and Orion and the bears and the seven sisters. It’s amazing.

LOUISE. I can’t even find the Big Dipper.

CARRIE. Oh, you could — there’s a way — you just have to find Polaris — well, I mean, I couldn’t either, but you learn. Orion is the one though; you’ve seen him, you just didn’t know what he was.

LOUISE. I don’t imagine.

CARRIE. No, you had to. He’s the one that you say, I’ll bet anything that’s some damn constellation. This is Orion. See, there are three stars — [On the table, with her finger, dot dot dot] big ones across. That’s the belt. And here … [To the audience] Do you know this? [Back to Louise] … perpendicular to the belt there are three more, closer together and fainter. [On the table] And that’s his sword. And this — the center star in the sword is the Great Nebula in Orion.

LOUISE. The Great Nebula in Orion.

CARRIE. Or of Orion, whichever. Which isn’t a star at all.

LOUISE. Of course not.

CARRIE. Do you know this?

LOUISE. No. [To the audience] Crocked, right? Plastered.

CARRIE. Well, it’s very interseting. The Great Nebula is a lot of hydrogen gas that’s lit up by a couple of stars behind it somewhere, and some by its own heat, because it’s condensing. It’s moving, like a whirlpool; all the time and getting tighter and tighter — what was that?

LOUISE. [who has uttered a polite “umm” at “tighter”] Nothing.

CARRIE. And hotter and hotter — and it will keep getting more and more compact and hotter and smaller — I mean it’s vast — and tighter and smaller until it’s so hot and compact — just a ball of fire, burning by itself — that it will be a star. And we could actually see that. I mean the center star, we could see that it was fuzzy; a big fuzzy spot. And Dick said that would be a star someday.

LOUISE. A star is born.

CARRIE. Oh, come on. I thought it was interesting.

LOUISE. I think you had to be there.