{"id":4054,"date":"2005-12-19T08:02:25","date_gmt":"2005-12-19T13:02:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=4054"},"modified":"2024-10-27T17:54:21","modified_gmt":"2024-10-27T21:54:21","slug":"the-books-the-rimers-of-eldritch-lanford-wilson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=4054","title":{"rendered":"The Books: \u201cThe Rimers of Eldritch\u201d (Lanford Wilson)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Next on the script shelf<\/p>\n

Next play in my little unalphabetized pile of Samuel French plays is Lanford Wilson’s eerie The Rimers of Eldritch.<\/a>\"\"<\/i>. <\/p>\n

It has the same kaleidoscopic style that his Balm in Gilead<\/a><\/i> had – multiple scenes going on at the same time, conversations chopped up so you get two or three lines from it before you switch to the other scene – then you leap back. If it’s not done well, I imagine it could be confusing. Also, in Rimers<\/i> – it’s set up backwards. We start with a trial – various people taking the witness stand – and it isn’t until the very last scene that we find out what really happened. It’s devastating when you do find out.<\/p>\n

Rimers<\/i> takes place in a small former mining town – on its way to becoming a ghost town. There is only a population of about 70 people. Needless to say, everyone knows everyone. It’s a very religious town, a very nosy town, and the script – with its multiple scenes, and dialogue from all different characters at the same time – ends up giving the impression of gossip. It feels like the entire cast is whispering in your ear insinuations about their neighbors.<\/p>\n

A young handicapped teenage girl (Eva) has been raped. Who did it? Over the course of the play you find out.<\/p>\n

I did this play in college. I played Lena, the not-pretty friend to the prettiest girl in the high school. It’s a small part – but this piece is what you would call an “ensemble piece” – there’s not a ‘star’ – and all of us were onstage the whole time. It was an amazing production, actually – a very challenging show, challenging material – and it was a damn fine show.<\/p>\n

Out of all of the plays I have excerpted – this one is really difficult to find a “scene”. The whole thing is like one big cut and paste job – giving you just snippets here, snippets there … so you have to put it together. You’ll see how the dialogue is not quite realistic. Rimers is almost choral in nature. <\/p>\n


\nFrom The Rimers of Eldritch.<\/a>\"\"<\/i> by Lanford Wilson<\/p>\n

MARTHA. Good evening, Mary.<\/p>\n

WILMA. Good evening, Mary Windrod.<\/p>\n

MARY. [she stops<\/i>] You two. I watch you two sometimes. [Mary talks, almost with everything she says, as though she were describing a beautiful dream to a pet canary<\/i>]<\/p>\n

WILMA. Aren’t you cold in that shawl, dear?<\/p>\n

MARTHA. Nights are cold in this valley for June.<\/p>\n

MARY. It’s not bad.<\/p>\n

WILMA. You’ll be catching a chill next.<\/p>\n

MARY. I was once a nurse and I believe that the constant proximity to sickness has given me an immunity to night air.<\/p>\n

MARTHA. Never think that.<\/p>\n

MARY. Us dry old women rattle like paper; we couldn’t get sick. I listen to you old women sometimes.<\/p>\n

WILMA. How’s your daughter?<\/p>\n

MARY. Yes, indeed.<\/p>\n

MARTHA. I beg your pardon?<\/p>\n

MARY. The proximity to all that sickness.<\/p>\n

WILMA. Yes, love.<\/p>\n

MARY. Immunity to death itself. My number passed Gabrile right on by. It came up and passed right on by and here I am a forgotten child.<\/p>\n

WILMA. You better get inside, love.<\/p>\n

MARY. Rusting away, flaking away.<\/p>\n

MARTHA. You get in, now.<\/p>\n

MARY. This wicked town. God hear a dried up woman’s prayer and do not forgive this wicked town!<\/p>\n

[Lights come up on the congregation. The congregation bursts into “Shall We Gather at the River” – only a few bars, the song fades. The congregation disperses. Lights brighten and focus on “court”. All focus on Nelly<\/i>]<\/p>\n

NELLY. [over the last of the song<\/i>] And mama came running downstairs and said a man had attacked young Eva Jackson.<\/p>\n

JUDGE. Would you point out Eva …<\/p>\n

NELLY. There, poor lamb, can’t hardly speak two words since this thing happened and I don’t wonder —<\/p>\n

[Lights fade out on court and focus on Martha and Wilma<\/i>]<\/p>\n

WILMA. Well, I know I swear I don’t know what he sees in her.<\/p>\n

[Eva crosses by the porch<\/i>]<\/p>\n

MARTHA. It’s nice of him though.<\/p>\n

WILMA. Well, I know but Driver Junior’s old enough to be taking girls out; he shouldn’t be wandering around with her. [Robert begins to cross to get to Eva<\/i>]<\/p>\n

MARTHA. It’s nice to have somebody to keep her company. Still and all it doesn’t seem natural, I know what you mean.<\/p>\n

WILMA. I don’t know what he sees in her.<\/p>\n

MARTHA. Poor thing.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Eva!<\/p>\n

EVA. Are you glad to be out of school?<\/p>\n

ROBERT. I liked it all right.<\/p>\n

EVA. What are you going to be?<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Who knows?<\/p>\n

EVA. I bet I know what you won’t be, don’t I?<\/p>\n

ROBERT. What’s that?<\/p>\n

EVA. A race car driver.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Why do you want to say that? You think I couldn’t do that if I wanted to?<\/p>\n

EVA. You don’t want to get yourself killed.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Driver didn’t want it; he just had an accident.<\/p>\n

EVA. You want to be like him?<\/p>\n

ROBERT. People don’t want to do the same thing their brother did; I couldn’t see any sense in it.<\/p>\n

EVA. I knew you didn’t. You aren’t going to get yourself killed.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Killed doesn’t have anything to do with it. Eva, good lord, I don’t want people carrying on like that; honking their horns, coming into town every week like a parade. I never even went to see Driver.<\/p>\n

EVA. You decided what you want to be?<\/p>\n

ROBERT. I don’t have to decide this minute, do I?<\/p>\n

EVA. I just wondered.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Do you know? You don’t know what you want.<\/p>\n

EVA. Of course I know; you know, I told you. So do you know, everybody knows what they want it’s what they think they really can do that they don’t know.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Well, I don’t have to decide yet.<\/p>\n

EVA. When’s it gonna be autumn? I love autumn so much I could hug it. I want it to be autumn. That’s what I want right now. Now. Autumn. Now. [This last as though conjuring<\/i>]<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Good luck, I don’t see it.<\/p>\n

EVA. [in a burst<\/i>] Don’t you be derisive to me, Driver Junior!<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Don’t call me that.<\/p>\n

EVA. Well, don’t you go on Robert Conklin or I’ll call you anything I like.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. You’ll be talking to yourself.<\/p>\n

EVA. Everybody else calls you that. Don’t go away; I won’t, I promise. Don’t you wish it was autumn? Don’t you? Don’t you love autumn? And the wind and rime and pumpkins and gourds and corn shocks? I won’t again. Don’t you love autumn? Don’t you Robert? I won’t call you that. Everybody else does but I won’t.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. I haven’t thought about it.<\/p>\n

EVA. Well, think about it, right now. Think about how it smells.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. How does it smell?<\/p>\n

EVA. Like dry, windy, cold, frosty rime and chaff and leaf smoke and corn husks.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. It does, huh?<\/p>\n

EVA. Pretend. Close your eyes. Are your eyes closed? Don’t you wish it was here? Like apples and cider. You go.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. And rain.<\/p>\n

EVA. Sometimes. And potatoes and flower seeds and honey.<\/p>\n

ROBERT. And popcorn and butter.<\/p>\n

EVA. Yes. Oh, it does not! You’re not playing at all. There’s hay and clover and alfalfa and all that. [Hitting him really quite hard, slapping<\/i>]<\/p>\n

ROBERT. [laughing<\/i>] Come on, it’s different for everybody.<\/p>\n

EVA. Well, that’s not right, it doesn’t at all. Are you making fun?<\/p>\n

ROBERT. Come on, don’t be rough.<\/p>\n

EVA. I will too; you’re not the least bit funny, Driver Junior! [Robert starts to walk away<\/i>] Come back here, Robert! Robert Conklin. Driver Junior! Little brother. Your brother was a man, anyway. Coward. Robert? Bobby?<\/p>\n

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