(no subject)
No more talk of refrigerators or Rumsfeld quotes, I am back on track.
So yesterday at like 4pm, the wonderful Natalie comes to my work. Natalie is a former tutor who is now working for Amazon up in Seattle. She tells me her courageous tales of being one of the only women in her unit, it's all programmers, and women are scarce. Nat is a great combination of realist and romantic that it try to emulate. So after the goodbyes to her, my Friend Rob calls me and he is going to attend playcafe a neat group founded by the wonderful Steve Lyons, for playwrights and networking. I attend here and there, and but had forgot about it for their monthly meeting. So I think yes, I will go. but I had forgot to print anything to read, we read scenes. So I thought hmmmm...maybe I will just write something up at the local cafe, you know by HAND. Gasp! So I did, I decided to dive in and write a scene about an imaginary meeting between Voltaire, the dashing, over bearing 16th century philosopher and Pierre Marivaux, the more traditionalist playwright. They didnt' care for each other, as most of those philosophers hated each other, tended to love humanity and hate men. So anyways, what I wrote is below, Rob and I stage read the scene. I think in reality it would be hard to stage such dialog. It's hard to follow, not present day rythms at all. but anyways, it could make for good drama though.
No name scene
By Carol Marshall
Characters
Pierre Marivaux: French playwright, tranditionalist
Voltaire: dashing, obnoxious philosopher
Salon Attendee: A guy at the salon
Setting, a salon in 16th century France.
Opening, it’s Pierre and the Attendee chatting at table
Pierre: …he was speaking without the every presence of mind to mind what he saying-or say what he minded.
Attendee: Oh of course -he believes his ideas themselves leave a scent upon his exit
Pierre: Buffoonery itself could sing a better song. Finding a new salon suits us
Attendee: But of course, so Pierre, have you finished your play? Or is it, as they say, finishing you?
Pierre: Never would it finish ME, I am letting it sit with itself until inspirations find their way.
Attendee (tentative, knowing this will get a reaction) I hear Voltaire is in town
Pierre: Admiring his own shadow no doubt, hopefully we will see it trail behind him as he leaves
Attendee: True, that man could scare even children from their games and keep many a man from daily finery, merely by speaking in his regular tones
Pierre: Yes his regular tones make plume’d birds seem humble
Attendee: The Plum’ed bird would turn grey from the mere turn of his head their direction
Pierre: That direction would turn fowl from the sigh
(They laugh, snooty salon type laughs)
Voltaire enters
Voltaire: Ah Pierre, still measuring fly eggs on a spider’s web you mad fool?
Pierre: (to attendee) “tis Voltaire, keep your head turned against him, it only makes him wonder more
Voltaire: Don’t fret and spit into your spittoon Pierre, what you do not understand you are no blamed for
(Pierre stands and faces Voltaire)
Pierre: A fool admires his own stink and shuns the beautiful alternatives
Voltaire: Excuse me for interfering while lesser men contemplate the insides of their eye lids
Attendee: Voltaire, you soft soul. As usual bringing sunlight into a moon lit room, come and join us
(They look at Pierre for objections)
Pierre: Of course, I am not one to hold anything back
Voltaire: You hold nothing back but the hands of time
Pierre: Are these those hands (pointing at Voltaires)
Voltaire: No, but I don’t turn from the winds of change
Pierre: When the winds are fueled by the long winded, then I do turn
Voltaire: Turn or no, the wind still blows Pierre
Pierre: That thought may blow me from the room
Voltaire: Don’t let the shades slap you as you leave
Attendee: Boys, Boys, can’t we all discourse and sup without all the fuss
Voltaire: I revel in the fuss
Pierre: Perhaps we should allow Mr Voltaire some privacy so he can roll in his own fuss
(Voltaire takes an apple and startes to cut it)
Voltaire: I need no privacy, just the time to carve a new world
Attendee: Some wine first?
Voltaire: Why not?
Pierre: Wine, fuss…fine by me
(they all sit..Voltaire continues to carve the apple)
Voltaire: The time to bite the apple is gone, it’s time to take the hammer and sickle and forget ahead…
So yesterday at like 4pm, the wonderful Natalie comes to my work. Natalie is a former tutor who is now working for Amazon up in Seattle. She tells me her courageous tales of being one of the only women in her unit, it's all programmers, and women are scarce. Nat is a great combination of realist and romantic that it try to emulate. So after the goodbyes to her, my Friend Rob calls me and he is going to attend playcafe a neat group founded by the wonderful Steve Lyons, for playwrights and networking. I attend here and there, and but had forgot about it for their monthly meeting. So I think yes, I will go. but I had forgot to print anything to read, we read scenes. So I thought hmmmm...maybe I will just write something up at the local cafe, you know by HAND. Gasp! So I did, I decided to dive in and write a scene about an imaginary meeting between Voltaire, the dashing, over bearing 16th century philosopher and Pierre Marivaux, the more traditionalist playwright. They didnt' care for each other, as most of those philosophers hated each other, tended to love humanity and hate men. So anyways, what I wrote is below, Rob and I stage read the scene. I think in reality it would be hard to stage such dialog. It's hard to follow, not present day rythms at all. but anyways, it could make for good drama though.
No name scene
By Carol Marshall
Characters
Pierre Marivaux: French playwright, tranditionalist
Voltaire: dashing, obnoxious philosopher
Salon Attendee: A guy at the salon
Setting, a salon in 16th century France.
Opening, it’s Pierre and the Attendee chatting at table
Pierre: …he was speaking without the every presence of mind to mind what he saying-or say what he minded.
Attendee: Oh of course -he believes his ideas themselves leave a scent upon his exit
Pierre: Buffoonery itself could sing a better song. Finding a new salon suits us
Attendee: But of course, so Pierre, have you finished your play? Or is it, as they say, finishing you?
Pierre: Never would it finish ME, I am letting it sit with itself until inspirations find their way.
Attendee (tentative, knowing this will get a reaction) I hear Voltaire is in town
Pierre: Admiring his own shadow no doubt, hopefully we will see it trail behind him as he leaves
Attendee: True, that man could scare even children from their games and keep many a man from daily finery, merely by speaking in his regular tones
Pierre: Yes his regular tones make plume’d birds seem humble
Attendee: The Plum’ed bird would turn grey from the mere turn of his head their direction
Pierre: That direction would turn fowl from the sigh
(They laugh, snooty salon type laughs)
Voltaire enters
Voltaire: Ah Pierre, still measuring fly eggs on a spider’s web you mad fool?
Pierre: (to attendee) “tis Voltaire, keep your head turned against him, it only makes him wonder more
Voltaire: Don’t fret and spit into your spittoon Pierre, what you do not understand you are no blamed for
(Pierre stands and faces Voltaire)
Pierre: A fool admires his own stink and shuns the beautiful alternatives
Voltaire: Excuse me for interfering while lesser men contemplate the insides of their eye lids
Attendee: Voltaire, you soft soul. As usual bringing sunlight into a moon lit room, come and join us
(They look at Pierre for objections)
Pierre: Of course, I am not one to hold anything back
Voltaire: You hold nothing back but the hands of time
Pierre: Are these those hands (pointing at Voltaires)
Voltaire: No, but I don’t turn from the winds of change
Pierre: When the winds are fueled by the long winded, then I do turn
Voltaire: Turn or no, the wind still blows Pierre
Pierre: That thought may blow me from the room
Voltaire: Don’t let the shades slap you as you leave
Attendee: Boys, Boys, can’t we all discourse and sup without all the fuss
Voltaire: I revel in the fuss
Pierre: Perhaps we should allow Mr Voltaire some privacy so he can roll in his own fuss
(Voltaire takes an apple and startes to cut it)
Voltaire: I need no privacy, just the time to carve a new world
Attendee: Some wine first?
Voltaire: Why not?
Pierre: Wine, fuss…fine by me
(they all sit..Voltaire continues to carve the apple)
Voltaire: The time to bite the apple is gone, it’s time to take the hammer and sickle and forget ahead…