"C'est ainsi que bâille d'avance d'ennui un lettré à qui on parle d'un nouveau << beau livre >>, parce qu'il imagine une sorte de composé de tous les beaux livres qu'il a lus, tandis qu'un beau livre est particulier, imprévisible, et n'est pas fait de la somme de tous les chefs-d'oeuvre précédents mais de quelque chose que s'être parfaitement assimilé cette somme ne suffit nullement à faire trouver, car c'est justement en dehors d'elle. Dès qu'il a eu connaissance de cette nouvelle oeuvre, le lettré, tout à l'heure blasé, se sent de l'intérêt pour la réalité qu'elle dépeint."
- Marcel Proust, Nom de pays: le pays , p.23 (ISBN 9782080704696)
"So it is that a well-read man will at once begin to yawn with boredom when one speaks to him of a new 'good book', because he imagines a sort of composite of all the good books he has read, whereas a good book is something special, something unforeseeable, & is made up not of the sum of all previous masterpieces but of something which the most thorough assimilation of every one of them would not enable him to discover, since it exists not in their sum but beyond it. Once he has become acquainted with this new work, the well-read man, however jaded his palate, feels his interest awaken in the reality which it depicts."- Place-Names: the Place , trans. C. K. Scott Moncrieff & Terence Kilmartin, p. 705 (ISBN 0140182225). Proust here making a plea for readers for A la recherche du temps perdu as well as a valid point.
"You've been with the professors & they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have discussed lepers & crooks
You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well-read, it's well known."
- Bob Dylan, Ballad of a Thin Man
Scene: A ground floor flat in Oxford. In the middle of the stage is a sofa which seats three, facing the audience. There is a pile of books by the end of the sofa L. At the back L is a large bookcase full of books. (These are the essential elements. Any other clutter may be added in the flat as the imagination of the designer & resources allow.) To the far R is a street door, bedroom door in the back wall, & door to the kitchen far L.
A man in his mid-twenties called Chris Andrews who looks like a student is sitting in the middle of the sofa reading. We can see he is on the last few pages of his book. There is a mug next to him. He reads intently, turning the pages every so often. This may be done in real time if desired; there's no rush. Finally he finishes, closes the book & puts it on top of the pile of books by the sofa. The book is this - the Oxford World's Classics edition of Le Morte d'Arthur, ISBN 9780199537341 - http://ukcatalogue.oup.com/product/9780199537341.do#.UKk5RHaP8y0 I draw your attention to the 2nd sentence of the 2nd paragraph of the blurb.
CHRIS (sounding very pleased with himself ): Finished !
He picks up the cup & exits through the kitchen door.
There is a loud knock from outside on the street door. CHRIS reappears looking puzzled & quickly opens the door. Two smartly dressed men push past him & are immediately in the room. CHRIS stands rather helplessly in the middle of the stage.
CHRIS: Uh - can I help you ?
TEXTE: Mr Andrews ?
CHRIS: Yes.
TEXTE: Mr Chris Andrews ?
CHRIS: Yes.
TEXTE: Ah, that's a relief. (to INTEGRAL) At least we've got the right house. (to CHRIS, beaming with his arms outstretched ) And the right man !
INTEGRAL sits down on the left side of the sofa. TEXTE crosses to the bookcase & begins to study the books.
TEXTE (to himself ): Mr Andrews. Mr Chris Andrews. (turning to CHRIS) No less !
CHRIS (bewildered ): Can I help you ?
TEXTE: Marvellous thing a library. Just like my old dad used to say to me. 'Simey', he used to say to me, 'take my tip, there is no resource like a well-stocked library'. Wonderful man he was. Pillar of the community.
CHRIS: Who are you ? What are you doing in my flat ?
No reply.
CHRIS: What are you doing in my flat ?
TEXTE: You're quite right, Chris - you don't mind if we call you Chris ? - we haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Mr Texte & this is Mr Integral. As to what we're doing here . . . I think you know.
CHRIS: I don't.
TEXTE (wagging his finger): Come come now, you know what we're doing here, surely you know.
CHRIS: I don't. I've got no idea.
TEXTE (to INTEGRAL): Shall I give him a hint ?
INTEGRAL: Give him a hint.
TEXTE: This is fun ! Almost like a game. A guessing game. Well. Let's say it's got something to do with a certain book.
CHRIS: A certain book ?
TEXTE: A certain book. A particular book. A most particular book that you . . . ah . . . (to INTEGRAL) how shall I put this ?
INTEGRAL (picking up the book from the top of the pile that CHRIS had put there & waving it at him): It's this book. This book. This book you've just (spitting the word out) finished.
CHRIS: Malory ?
TEXTE: Malory. Precisely. (INTEGRAL throws him the book. He reads the front cover .) "Sir Thomas Malory, Le Morte d'Arthur, The Winchester Manuscript." It's come to our attention that you had just finished this book.
CHRIS: Come to your attention ?
TEXTE: Our attention. yes.
CHRIS: How ?
TEXTE (approaching CHRIS & standing too near to him L): Do you regard yourself as having read Malory ?
CHRIS: What do you mean ?
INTEGRAL also gets up & comes to stand too close to CHRIS on the R, boxing him in.
INTEGRAL: Malory ! Malory ! Are you stupid or something ? Do you regard yourself as having read Malory ?
CHRIS: Well, I just finished it, didn't I ?
TEXTE: But there's a problem.
INTEGRAL: A hitch.
TEXTE: A drawback.
INTEGRAL: A fly in the ointment.
TEXTE: A great big fly.
CHRIS: Look. Why don't you leave me alone ? . . . there's nothing for you here.
TEXTE: Silence ! (Pause .) This text of Malory, (sneering) this one you've just read . . . it's abridged !
CHRIS: Abriged ?
TEXTE: Edited.
INTEGRAL: Reduced.
TEXTE: Filleted.
INTEGRAL: Pasteurised.
CHRIS: What ?
TEXTE: They cut the battle scenes. The editor cut the battle scenes. Too boring apparently.
CHRIS: Well . . .
TEXTE: So our point is, you can't really consider yourself to have read Le Morte d'Arthur. Since this edition is abridged. But that's not the whole of our concern. It's also come to our attention - it's also come to our attention that you regard yourself as a well-read man.
INTEGRAL: An intellectual.
TEXTE: A scholar.
INTEGRAL: Omnicompetent.
TEXTE: A master of the arts. But we know the truth, Adams ! We're on to you ! Your pretensions curt no ice with us. You're a fraud !
CHRIS: A fraud ?
INTEGRAL: So he admits it !
TEXTE (pacing up & down): A handsome confession. We're here to sound you, Adams, from top to bottom. To investigate you. To make you realise the falsity of your claims, (pointing at CHRIS) even your unuttered ones ! You eat baby food !
INTEGRAL: He likes it !
CHRIS (feebly ): I am quite well-read, you know.
TEXTE comes to a halt by the bookcase L.
INTEGRAL: Well-read ! About the only thing he reads is The Daily Mail !
TEXTE: The match reports.
INTEGRAL: The gossip columns.
TEXTE: The celebrity news.
INTEGRAL: He's lucky if he can make it through the occasional copy of Heat !
CHRIS (gesturing at the bookcase ): But what about those ?
TEXTE: Those ?
INTEGRAL (scornfully ) Those !
TEXTE: The books ? You mean the books ? (moving back to box CHRIS in again) Possession is one thing, Adams, mastery of contents quite another. Have you ever read Herodotus ?
CHRIS: I've glanced at it, yes.
INTEGRAL: Glanced at it ! Glanced at it ! What about Boccaccio ?
TEXTE: The Arabian Nights ?
INTEGRAL: Don Quixote ?
TEXTE: Hypnerotomachia Poliphili ?
INTEGRAL: Malleus Maleficarum ?
TEXTE: On The Origin of Species ?
INTEGRAL: Apologia Pro Vita Sua ?
CHRIS: Uhhhh . . . uhhhhhn . . .
CHRIS breaks away & dashes to sit in the middle of the sofa. He rocks back & forth as TEXTE (L) & INTEGRAL (R) stand at either side & berate him.
TEXTE: De Civitate Dei ?
INTEGRAL: Augustine's Confessions ?
TEXTE: Rousseau's ditto ?
INTEGRAL: Le rouge et le noir ?
TEXTE: Les liaisons dangereuses ?
INTEGRAL: Dictionnaire philosophique ?
TEXTE: A Tale of Two Cities ?
INTEGRAL: Huckleberry Finn ?
TEXTE: Bede's History ?
CHRIS (shouting): I have read that one !
TEXTE: In Latin ?
INTEGRAL: In Urdu ?
TEXTE: In Sanskrit ?
INTEGRAL: In Farsi ?
TEXTE: He won't answer !
INTEGRAL: He CAN'T answer !
CHRIS: I . . . I . . . I . . . I . . .
TEXTE (bending forwards): Yes ?
CHRIS (shoulders sagging): I . . . I haven't read those books you mention. I suppose I am rather a fraud. I DID think I was well-read.
TEXTE (patting him on the shoulder ): There, there - that's it - there, there; (Straightening up ). We're here to purge your soul, Adams, intellectually speaking. Yes, to clean your soul. We'll make it clean as a whistle !
INTEGRAL: As the driven snow.
TEXTE: As the undriven snow.
INTEGRAL: Glistening silently on the fields & on the streets.
TEXTE: I couldn't have put it better myself !
Pause.
CHRIS: Somehow I seem to see myself as I really am now. I'm diminished but also . . .
TEXTE: More real ?
CHRIS: More real. Yes. So many pretences dropped away. Who needs that weight anyway ? How can I ever thank you ?
TEXTE: Thank us ? There's no need to thank us. Besides which you might find it rather difficult. You see - (expansively ) We're not even here !
CHRIS (looking up in astonishment): Not even here ?
BLACKOUT
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