My name is Elena and I have to compare three works of literature to find a common theme. My apologies for the length it will not allow me to attach URL's
KATHERINE MANSFIELD — (1888–1923)
Miss Brill ____________________________________________________________________1920
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Although it was so brilliantly fine — the blue sky powdered with gold and great
spots of light like white wine splashed over the Jardins Publiques — Miss Brill was
glad that she had decided on her fur. The air was motionless, but when you
opened your mouth there was just a faint chill, like a chill from a glass of iced water
before you sip, and now and again a leaf came drifting — from nowhere, from the sky.
Miss Brill put up her hand and touched her fur. Dear little thing! It was nice to feel it
again. She had taken it out of its box that afternoon, shaken out the moth-powder,
given it a good brush, and rubbed the life back into the dim little eyes. “What has
been happening to me?” said the sad little eyes. Oh, how sweet it was to see them
snap at her again from the red eiderdown! ... But the nose, which was of some black
composition, wasn’t at all firm. It must have had a knock, somehow. Never mind —
a little dab of black sealing-wax when the time came — when it was absolutely
necessary … Little rogue! Yes, she really felt like that about it. Little rogue biting its
tail just by her left ear. She could have taken it off and laid it on her lap and stroked it.
She felt a tingling in her hands and arms, but that came from walking, she supposed.
And when she breathed, something light and sad — no, not sad, exactly — something
gentle seemed to move in her bosom.
There were a number of people out this afternoon, far more than last Sunday. And
the band sounded louder and er. That was because the Season had begun. For
although the band played all the year round on Sundays, out of season it was never
the same. It was like someone playing with only the family to listen; it didn’t care
how it played if there weren’t any strangers present. Wasn’t the conductor wearing a
new coat, too? She was sure it was new. He scraped with his foot and flapped his
arms like a rooster about to crow, and the bandsmen sitting in the green rotunda
blew out their cheeks and glared at the music. Now there came a little “flutey”
bit — very pretty! — a little chain of bright drops. She was sure it would be repeated.
It was; she lifted her head and smiled.
Only two people shared her “special” seat: a fine old man in a velvet coat, his
hands clasped over a huge carved walking-stick, and a big old woman, sitting
upright, with a roll of knitting on her embroidered apron. They did not speak. This
was disappointing, for Miss Brill always looked forward to the conversation. She
had become really quite expert, she thought, at listening as though she didn’t listen,
at sitting in other people’s lives just for a minute while they talked round her.
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She glanced, sideways, at the old couple. Perhaps they would go soon. Last
Sunday, too, hadn’t been as interesting as usual. An Englishman and his wife, he
wearing a dreadful Panama hat and she button boots. And she’d gone on the whole
time about how she ought to wear spectacles; she knew she needed them; but that it
was no good getting any; they’d be sure to break and they’d never keep on. And
he’d been so patient. He’d suggested everything — gold rims, the kind that curved
round your ears, little pads inside the bridge. No, nothing would please her. “They’ll
always be sliding down my nose!” Miss Brill had wanted to shake her.
The old people sat on the bench, still as statues. Never mind, there was always the 5
crowd to watch. To and fro, in front of the flower-beds and the band rotunda, the
couples and groups paraded, stopped to talk, to greet, to buy a handful of flowers
from the old beggar who had his tray fixed to the railings. Little children ran among
them, swooping and laughing; little boys with big white silk bows under their chins,
little girls, little French dolls, dressed up in velvet and lace. And sometimes a
tiny staggerer came suddenly rocking into the open from under the trees, stopped,
stared, as suddenly sat down “flop,” until its small high-stepping mother, like a
young hen, rushed scolding to its rescue. Other people sat on the benches and
green chairs, but they were nearly always the same, Sunday after Sunday, and —
Miss Brill had often noticed — there was something funny about nearly all of them.
They were odd, silent, nearly all old, and from the way they stared they looked as
though they’d just come from dark little rooms or even — even cupboards!
Behind the rotunda the slender trees with yellow leaves down drooping, and
through them just a line of sea, and beyond the blue sky with gold-veined clouds.
Tum-tum-tum tiddle-um! tiddle-um! tum tiddley-um tum ta! blew the band.
Two young girls in red came by and two young soldiers in blue met them, and they
laughed and paired and went off arm-in-arm. Two peasant women with funny
straw hats passed, gravely, leading beautiful smoke-coloured donkeys. A cold, pale
nun hurried by. A beautiful woman came along and dropped her bunch of violets,
and a little boy ran after to hand them to her, and she took them and threw them
away as if they’d been poisoned. Dear me! Miss Brill didn’t know whether to admire
that or not! And now an ermine toque and a gentleman in grey met just in front of her.
He was tall, stiff, dignified, and she was wearing the ermine toque she’d bought
when her hair was yellow. Now everything, her hair, her face, even her eyes, was the
same colour as the shabby ermine, and her hand, in its cleaned glove, lifted to dab
her lips, was a tiny yellowish paw. Oh, she was so pleased to see him — delighted! She
rather thought they were going to meet that afternoon. She described where she’d
been — everywhere, here, there, along by the sea. The day was so charming — didn’t
he agree? And wouldn’t he, perhaps? ... But he shook his head, lighted a cigarette,
slowly breathed a great deep puff into her face, and even while she was still talking
and laughing, flicked the match away and walked on. The ermine toque was alone;
she smiled more brightly than ever. But even the band seemed to know what she
was feeling and played more softly, played tenderly, and the drum beat, “The Brute!
The Brute!” over and over. What would she do? What was going to happen now?
But as Miss Brill wondered, the ermine toque turned, raised her hand as though
she’d seen some one else, much nicer, just over there, and pattered away. And
the band changed again and played more quickly, more ly than ever, and the
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old couple on Miss Brill’s seat got up and marched away, and such a funny old
man with long whiskers hobbled along in time to the music and was nearly knocked
over by four girls walking abreast.
Oh, how fascinating it was! How she enjoyed it! How she loved sitting here, watching
it all! It was like a play. It was exactly like a play. Who could believe the sky at the back
wasn’t painted? But it wasn’t till a little brown dog trotted on solemn and then slowly
trotted off, like a little “theatre” dog, a little dog that had been drugged, that Miss
Brill discovered what it was that made it so exciting. They were all on the stage.
They weren’t only the audience, not only looking on; they were acting. Even she
had a part and came every Sunday. No doubt somebody would have noticed if
she hadn’t been there; she was part of the performance after all. How strange she’d
never thought of it like that before! And yet it explained why she made such a
point of starting from home at just the same time each week — so as not to be late
for the performance — and it also explained why she had quite a queer, shy feeling
at telling her English pupils how she spent her Sunday afternoons. No wonder! Miss
Brill nearly laughed out loud. She was on the stage. She thought of the old invalid
gentleman to whom she read the newspaper four afternoons a week while he slept
in the garden. She had got quite used to the frail head on the cotton pillow, the
hollowed eyes, the open mouth and the high pitched nose. If he’d been dead she mightn’t
have noticed for weeks; she wouldn’t have minded. But suddenly he knew he was having
the paper read to him by an actress! “An actress!” The old head lifted; two points of
light quivered in the old eyes. “An actress — are ye?” And Miss Brill smoothed the news-
paper as though it were the manuscript of her part and said gently; “Yes, I have been
an actress for a long time.”
The band had been having a rest. Now they started again. And what they played was 10
warm, sunny, yet there was just a faint chill — a something, what was it? — not
sadness — no, not sadness — a something that made you want to sing. The tune lifted,
lifted, the light shone; and it seemed to Miss Brill that in another moment all of them,
all the whole company, would begin singing. The young ones, the laughing ones who
were moving together, they would begin, and the men’s voices, very resolute and brave,
would join them. And then she, too, she too, and the others on the benches — they would
come in with a kind of accompaniment — something low, that scarcely rose or fell,
something so beautiful — moving …. And Miss Brill’s eyes filled with tears and she looked
smiling at all the other members of the company. Yes, we understand, we understand, she
thought — though what they understood she didn’t know.
Just at that moment a boy and girl came and sat down where the old couple had been.
They were beautifully dressed; they were in love. The hero and heroine, of course, just
arrived from his father’s yacht. And still soundlessly singing, still with that trembling
smile, Miss Brill prepared to listen.
“No, not now,” said the girl. “Not here, I can’t.”
“But why? Because of that stupid old thing at the end there?” asked the boy. “Why
does she come here at all — who wants her? Why doesn’t she keep her silly old mug
at home?”
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“It’s her fu-ur which is so funny,” giggled the girl. “It’s exactly like a fried whiting.”
“Ah, be off with you!” said the boy in an angry whisper. Then: “Tell me, ma petite 15
chere —”
“No, not here,” said the girl. “Not yet.”
On her way home she usually bought a slice of honey-cake at the baker’s. It was her
Sunday treat. Sometimes there was an almond in her slice, sometimes not. It made a
great difference. If there was an almond it was like carrying home a tiny present — a
surprise — something that might very well not have been there. She hurried on the almond
Sundays and struck the match for the kettle in quite a dashing way.
But to-day she passed the baker’s by, climbed the stairs, went into the little dark
room — her room like a cupboard — and sat down on the red eiderdown. She sat there
for a long time. The box that the fur came out of was on the bed. She unclasped the
necklet quickly; quickly, without looking, laid it inside. But when she put the lid on she
thought she heard something crying.
�
William Faulkner — (1897–1962)
After Fifty Years _________________________________________________________________________1919
Her house is empty and her heart is old,
And filled with shades and echoes that deceive
No one save her, for still she tries to weave
With blind bent fingers, nets that cannot hold.
Once all men’s arms rose up to her, ‘tis told,5
And hovered like white birds for her caress:
A crown she could have had to bind each tress
Of hair, and her sweet arms the Witches’ Gold. **
Her mirrors know her witnesses, for there
She rose in dreams from other dreams that lent 10
Her softness as she stood, crowned with soft hair.
And with his bound heart and his young eyes bent
And blind, he feels her presence like shed scent,
Holding him body and life within its snare.
** “Witches’ Gold”: “seductive, but false, treasure”
�
RICH ORLOFF — (1951– )
Eve and Adam : The Untold Story ___________________________________________2005
Characters: Eve
Adam
God
Narrator
Place: The Garden of Eden
Time: In the beginning
Text Speech #
Narrator: In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. And
she filled the earth with plants and trees, and birds that flew and
creatures that slithered, all of which were biodegradable. On the
sixth day, God created the human being. And she looked at her
creation and said:
(In the middle of the garden, a woman stirs from the ground.
She is naked and unashamed. GOD observes)
God: I do such good work.
Eve: Pardon me?
God: I didn’t think the human being would turn out to be so cute.
Eve: Thanks. 5
God: Enjoy my garden, Eve. It is a gift from me to you.
Eve: And what do you want from me?
God: Just enjoy life and be happy.
Eve: Maybe it’s the way you created me, but why do I feel there’s a catch?
God: There’s one catch. 10
Eve: I knew it.
God: You may not eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge.
Eve: But how am I going to get enough roughage in my diet?
God: I have provided you with everything you need, Eve.
Eve: “Eve”? Why have you named me “Eve”? 15
Text Speech #
God: I thought of you last night.
Eve: Well, thanks, God. I appreci — ooo —
(Eve stands. She feels unbalanced. She touches her ribcage.)
God: Something the matter?
Eve: I feel like I have an extra rib or something.
God: I’m glad you reminded me. From that rib, I will create for you a 20
partner.
Eve: I’m getting a girlfriend?
God: No, from that rib, I will create “man.”
Eve: Why?
God: You need a man so you can go forth, be fruitful and multiply.
Eve: I thought you said I could enjoy life and be happy. 25
God: But you will want to be fruitful and multiply.
Eve: Can’t we wait until my fifties when I’m exhausted from enjoying
life so much?
God: No.
Eve: But I don’t want to —
God: I said, “No”! 30
Eve: Oh, yeah? Well, who made you God?
God: I don’t know. I’ve only had the job for a week.
Eve: God, please, I’m really happy —
God: It’s too late. I have my plans.
(GOD claps. A cloud of dust rises, consuming EVE.)
Eve: Owwwcchhhh! 35
(When the dust settles, a man stands naked and unashamed.
EVE holds her rib.)
If childbirth hurts half as much as this, forget it.
(EVE notices ADAM.)
Text Speech #
Adam: Yo, babe.
Eve: Well, so much for paradise.
Narrator: And God looked at woman and man, the crowning achievements
of her universe, and she said:
God: I could use a day off. 40
(The NARRATOR and GOD exit.)
Adam: So — come here often?
Eve: Now I know why God invented pets.
Adam: So, like, you free tomorrow night?
Eve: What’s tomorrow night?
Adam: It’s Saturday night — date night. I thought we could go into the 45
woods and observe the evolution of the species.
Eve: Please. I’m innocent, not stupid.
Adam: C’mon, loosen up. Let’s party.
Eve: I think I liked things better when I had lopsided ribs.
Adam: What?
Eve: You came from my extra rib. 50
Adam: No way.
Eve: It’s true.
Adam: I don’t like this at all.
Eve: What’s wrong?
Adam: If the other guys find out I came from a gal’s rib, I’m never
gonna hear the end of it.
Eve: There are no other guys. 55
Adam: Yeah, but —
Eve: At this rate, there will be no other guys.
Adam: I tell you what. How ‘bout, if anybody asks, you came from my rib.
Text Speech #
Eve: Why would I want to agree to that?
Adam: C’mahhn, be a sport. Remember, all of civilization is going to60
descend from us.
Eve: I think “descend” is the right word.
Adam: I want my descendants to look up to me.
Eve: Listen, big shot, I’m not going to lie.
Adam: You want word to get around that I came from you? You want
to take responsibility for having created me?
Eve: Well, when you put it that way. How’s this? I won’t tell anyone 65
you came from me, and I won’t correct you when you lie.
Adam: You’re sure I can trust you on this?
Eve: If I ever tell anyone, may I be forced to menstruate once a month.
Adam: Great. So you want to go for a walk?
Eve: I’m really not in the mood ….
Adam: C’mahhhhhhn… 70
Eve: Look, buddy ….
Adam: The name’s Adam.
Eve: Okay, Adam…
Adam: I think God wants the guys to be named alphabetically. So, if
we have a son, we could name him Buddy. And if you’re nice
to me, we can work all the way to “Zachary.”
Eve: I don’t want 26 sons. 75
Adam: I’ll settle for thirteen.
Eve: Hey, let’s get one thing straight. If — and I don’t mean when, I
mean if we ever do anything, you’re going to have to use protection.
Adam: I am not wearing anything.
Eve: Why not?
Adam: Because I’m naked and unashamed. 80
Text Speech #
Eve: Yeah, well get over it.
Adam: So you want to go for a walk?
Eve: I’m really not in the —
Adam: Let’s go for a walk.
Eve: God, why did you create an animal that can’t take a hint? 85
Adam: C’mahhhnnnn. One walk.
Eve: Okay. One walk.
(ADAM and EVE take a walk. They soon come to the Tree of
Knowledge.)
Adam: Hey, get a load of them apples. They look delicious.
Eve: Adam, God told us not to eat them.
(ADAM takes a bite.)
Adam: Tastes delicious, too. Have a bite. 90
Eve: But I don’t want to —
Adam: Have a taste!
Eve: Adam, I don’t want to —
(ADAM gets EVE to bite an apple.)
Adam: C’mahhhn…. Now swallow!
(EVE swallows. We hear thunder. GOD enters.)
God: Okay, everybody out of the garden! 95
Eve: (To ADAM) See what you made —
God: I want an explanation…now!
Adam: Okay, you want the truth? Here’s the truth. Eve brought me this
apple —
Eve: (Sotto) I did not!
Adam: (Sotto) You want me to look bad? 100
Eve: (Sotto) You want me to look bad?
Adam: (Sotto) Tell her a snake made you do it.
Text Speech #
Eve: (Sotto) What?
Adam: (Sotto) Blame it on a snake.
Eve: (Sotto) That’s the stupidest thing I ever — 105
God: Hey! I’m all-knowing, I’m all-seeing, and I’m not deaf, either.
Adam: Look, we promise never to do it again.
God: Oh, shut up. Adam, your life in paradise is now over.
Adam: Could I have just one more week —
God: It’s over!! Henceforth, you will have to toil and labor, day in 110
and day out, with maybe two weeks vacation per year max. Your
capacity for joy will become so diminished that for pleasure you will
be reduced to watching sports on TV. You will wonder why you were
born, and in your pain, you’ll become obnoxious, long-winded and
unable to tell a good joke at parties. And so your life shall be, one
misery after another, until you die.
Eve: And what’s my punishment?
God: You’re going to have to live with the guy.
(EVE and ADAM look at each other. EVE sighs.)
(The lights fade.)
The End