Preface to 'The Birthday Party'

These are my notes in the front of my copy of The Birthday Party .

This is a symbolic drama. If it were definite, it would be less powerful, because this way it alludes to a wider set of possible situations. Also, the indefiniteness is disturbing. Because evidently what happens happens, but it's not clear what it is or why. In a way, it's the structure of a straightforward thriller with a lot of the information to make it make sense deliberately lacking. The thriller skeleton makes it comprehensible at least. If you imagine a thriller plot as a combination lock with all the numbers in the right place so that the lock will open, it's as if Pinter has scrambled all the numbers.

It's also like a kitchen sink drama gone mad.

It has struck me since writing the above that the toy drum Meg gives Stanley is a parody of a symbol: the whole point is we don't & will never know what it represents, like so much else in the play.

Meet the Next Pope !

MAN walks on stage to C. Addresses audience.


MAN: Oh good, I'm glad you're here because I need to tell someone & you'll be the first people to know. I've just had some amazing news. Believe it or not - I'm going to be Pope !


Pause.


Yeah, you heard me right. It's all arranged - it's all stitched up. When Benedict pops off, that's it - I'll be in !

I've been giving some thought to my title as you can imagine, & the conclusion of my deliberations is 'Leo XIV'. Got a ring to it, don't you think ? Memorable. It reminds me of Louis XIV, a good precedent - 'the Sun Pope' !

It's a bit more complicated than that actually because I'm not just going to be the next Pope, I'm going to be the next six Popes, Leos XIV to XVIIII, it's all set up so my avatars can be Pope in turn. This is partly out of sheer greed for power, but also to ensure my reforms are enacted & secured.

Anyway, as soon as I'm installed, then THE FUN BEGINS. It's going to be great being Infallible I can tell you - useful doctrine that. I've got an outline programme for my decrees, my Bulls, already sketched out. They are really going to mess with the heads of the faithful. Bull no.1 - it's time to get on with it, chaps - from now on it's official - GOD DOES NOT EXIST ... but you've got to go on paying me anyway ! Dogma, schmogma. I'M THE POPE ! I DECIDE WHAT IS & IS NOT DOGMA !

Secondly, I'm going to canonise Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, Voltaire & Darwin - with all the trimmings - Saints' Days, pilgrimages, processions - the works.

Thirdly I'm going to own up where most of our ritual, iconography & ceremonial dress comes from anyway & re-institute the Gods of Egypt to their rightful place in our worship. Oh yes - Osiris, Isis, Horus - all back. What do you think we've been doing all these years wondering about in fish-hats waving croziers ?
Ever seen an Egyptian frieze ? Don't answer that ! While I'm at it, we're going to return to the worship of natural phenomena as well - things we can see, things that are there: the Sun, the Moon, the Stars, the Earth, the Sky, the Sea. St. Peter's will of course be preserved as a museum, but will also double as a centre for astronomic, astrological & alchemical research. Standing stones, aligned with the Winter & Summer solstices, the phases of the Moon, & other celestial phenomena yet to be determined, will be introduced into the precincts.

Fourth on the agenda is I am going to issue an apology for all the magnificent pagan temples destroyed by our fanatical followers in the 4th century, & provide funds for their restoration where possible. Also an apology & our sincere remorse for all the people & groups we've persecuted over the years. I won't list them - it's pretty much everybody.

Fifth, I'm going to free Jesus of the burden of being responsible for Christianity. It's no good blaming him for it. If ever a movement was foisted retrospectively on its supposed founder, Christianity is it. Often happens. No big deal. Simple misunderstanding - a ... er ... misapprehension, you might say. Easily done.

Well, thanks for listening. I've got to be off now - I've got to get measured for my robes - the damn things take an age to make & cost a bloody fortune. Still I suppose it's worth it. I look dynamite in a tiara !

One final thought before I go - a genuine sentiment, not a joke - I can't wait to get my hands on the Vatican Library !


Blackout.

A Cup of Sugar

A perfectly nice, ordinary fellow has just moved in to a posh terrace house &, having run out of sugar, goes to knock on the door of his Neighbour to borrow some. Unfortunately he does not realise that his Neighbour is suffering from the delusion that he is a sort of 19th century Dr. Johnson.

PNOF enters R carrying an empty cup. He walks to C & knocks on an imaginary door. Neighbour enters L & goes to open the door. He is comically stern & impressive.


PNOF: Oh, hello, you don't know me but I've just moved in next door & I've run out of sugar & I was wondering - can I borrow some ? (Gestures hopefully with empty cup.)

N: You can, you can.

PNOF: Oh, good.


Pause. Neither moves.


PNOF: Well, can I come in ?

N: Oh certainly, certainly. You can borrow some sugar, you can come in, you are evidently perfectly capable of doing either of these things. But that is not the question. The question is - may you ?

PNOF (nervously friendly): Oh, yes, I see - well, may I ?

N: May you ? may you ?

PNOF: If it's not too much trouble.

N: Not too much trouble ?

PNOF: Yes.


They look at each other for a few moments. N looks penetratingly at PNOF, meanwhile gathering himself.


N: You, sir, are an importunate blackguardly wretch.

PNOF: What ?

N: A low , mean, sneaking fellow. Be off, or I'll summon the constable.

PNOF: I'm sorry ... I don't quite understand you ... I'd just like to borrow some sugar (gestures with cup) if I can, I mean, if I may ....

N: Not understand me, sir ? Not understand me ? You appear at least to speak English, so I take it I am not unfounded in the assumption you can understand it ? I am speaking perfectly good English, sir: I flatter myself I have some proficiency in that Art.

PNOF: Oh well, never mind ... it really doesn't matter ... sorry to have disturbed you ... I'll just be getting along ...


N seizes him by the collar.


N: What d'ye say, sir ? My interlocutor proposes to take flight ?

PNOF: Gerroff, gerroff !

N (shaking him): Hey, sir, hey ?


Suddenly, the penny drops for PNOF.


PNOF: Unhand me, sir !

N (taken aback, the mask slips): What ?

PNOF: Unhand me, damn you ! I'll not be handled by any man or ... or ... by George, he'll know about it !

N (letting him go): My dear fellow ! Pray excuse me ! I mistook you entirely !

PNOF (brushing himself off): That's alright, no harm done ... these things happen ...


Pause. They look at each other for a few seconds again.


PNOF: Can I borrow some sugar then ?

N (in an entirely ordinary voice): Er, no, sorry, I haven't got any actually.


Blackout.