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From Novel to Theatre: Contemporary Adaptations of Narrative to the French StageAuthor(s): Judith Graves MillerSource: Theatre Journal, Vol. 33, No. 4 (Dec., 1981), pp. 431-452Published by: Johns Hopkins University PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3206769Accessed: 18-12-2015 15:30 UTC

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2/23

JUDITH

GRAVES

MILLER

From

Novel

to

Theatre:

ontemporary

Adaptations

f Narrative

o

the

French tage

The kind f

explosion

reated

y Godard's]

ongpoem,

ierrote

fou

1965]

lasted

complete

nd

terrifying

hasm

etween

he

theatre

hat

was still

eing roduced

nd

whatwashappeningn iteraturetheNewNovel,TelQuell, npainting,n azz,and n

the

eginnings

f new

kind f

popular

music.

here

was

gap

n

ensitivity

etween

he

theatres

it was

then

nd

what

really

iked

n

the

rts nd

n

ife.

hat's

why

said

to

myself:

We're

oing

o do theatre

ut

we

won't

do

theatre-theatre,

e

won't

tage

classical

plays:

we'll

try

o write

our own

texts."

Jo

Lavaudant,

irectorf the

National

ramatic

Center

f the

Alps,

Grenoble,

rance1

Jo

Lavaudant,

a

contemporary

avorite

with French

heatregoers

nd

critics,

x-

uberantly

nvisions

theatre

more

ilm

r literature"

han

theatre nd

a theatre r-

tist at least

as much creator

as

interpreter.

his

conception

pervades

current

theatrical

ractice

n

France.

The lone dramatic

uthor

writing

n

total

or semiisola-

tion,

playing

theplay only in his or herhead, has practically ecome obsolete.

Plays

like

novels,

essays, poems,

and

film

cripts

now

partake

of the notion

of

"text,"

ometimes

enefitting

nd sometimes

uffering

rom he

nterpenetration

f

genres.

The

most

imaginative

heatre

people

had

already

stopped

doing

traditional

theatre

good

fifteen

ears

before

he vents

f

May

1968 made

talkof

revolutioniz-

ing

the heatre e

rigueur.

n the ate 1960s nd

early

1970s

nnovation ook the

form

of

collective

endeavor,

particularly

with

the

goal

of

creating

political

piece.

Recently

and

markedly

ince

1975

French heatre

as

been characterized

f

not to

say

overwhelmed

y adaptations

of nondramatic

exts.

Computations

based

on

Pariscope,

weekly ntertainmentuide, how that daptationshave accountedfor

one

out of

every

five

Parisian

productions

n

the ast three

years.

Judith

raves

Miller

s Associate

Professor f

French t the

University

f

Wisconsin-Madison

nd

the

author

of

Theatre nd

Revolution

n France ince

1968.

1

Jacques

Poulet,

"Chapitre

uivant: Revoltes:

J.

Poulet

s'entretient

vec

Georges

Lavaudant,"

France

Nouvelle,

5

March

1979,

p.

44

(emphasis

dded).

All

quotations

n

this

rticle,

xcept

from he novels

Martin

Eden,

David

Copperfield,

nd

The Sea

Wall

Herma

Briffault's

nglish

ersion

f

Un

Barrage

on-

tre e Pacifique)aremyown translations rom heoriginal rench.

431


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3/23

432

/

TI,

December

981

Attempting

o

bridge

he

sensitivity

ap"

mentioned

y

Lavaudant,

hese

dapta-

tionshave resulted n some of the most

startling

heatricalizations

f the

past

few

seasons.InJune 979alone,nineofthe hirtyhows isted nPariscopewere dapta-

tions,

mong

hem

sobering

Get drunkwith

Baudelaire,

dapted

from is

poems;

a

baroque

and

sentimentalized

ephisto,

from he

Klaus

Mann

novel;

a

successful

theatrical

romp

through

Voltaire's

philosophical

essay

Zadig;

and a

merciless

telescoping

f

Roger

Martin

du Gard's

eight-volume

he Thibaults

nto

forty-five

minutes

with

their oldier-son

Jacques.

The

plethora

of

adaptations

caused

Eric

Westphal,

bona fide

playwright,

o

remark,

I'm

stupified

.

.

.

In the

suburbs

director ad someone

adapt

Balzac's

Les

Paysans

[The

Peasantry].

What does that

do

for

Balzac and

the

theatre.

An

adaptation

s

an admission

f

mpotency

r

at the

very

east,

a lack

of

confidence."2

The brio ofthe daptorsbeliesWestphal's udgment. ikeLavaudant,they lign

themselves

ehinddirector ntoineVitez's edefinition

f

the

heatre:

The

theatre

s

someone

who

takes

his

materialwherever

e

finds

t

even

things

ot made

for

he

stage

and

puts

them

n

stage.

Or,

rather,

tages

hem."3

itez's lever ormulation

speaks

to

the

ongoing

volution

n

therole of the

director. ince

the

beginning

f

the

twentieth

entury,

e

or

she

has

emerged

s

mainstay

nd

primary

reator

f

the

theatrical

enture

which now

includes

nitiating

dapting

projects

r

even

doing

the

daptations.

What matterss not what the uthormeant hetext

o

say

but

how

the

director

eads it.

As critic

Raymonde

Tempkine

notes,

the texthas

an

equal

but not

greater

alue

thanthedecor, music,and lighting.4 n adaptorsuch as Genevieve Serreaucan

therefore

ustify

her 1977

adaptation

of Balzac's

La

Vie

privie

et

publique

des

animaux

The

Privateand Public

Life

of

Animals)

by explaining

hather director

wanted

to

see Grandville's

ineteenth-century

llustrations

or the novella come

to

lifeon

stage.

And

Jean-Louis

arrault,

daptor-director

f some eleven

plays,

in-

cluding

modernizedRabelais

which touredAmerica

n

1969-1970,

confesses hat

he

plunges

nto

a

new

adapting

project

very

imehe

needs

to

revitalize

is

theatre

practice.

Barrault

easons

that

because

great

exts,

specially

novels,

permit

im

to

visualize

their

niverse,

is

own

creativeness

oars

when

he

stages

them.-

Novels have

indeed

nspired

he

most

bundant

nd

original daptations.

At

least

a dozen of these nlivened he 1977-1978 season: the bestbeingtheSalamandre's

adaptation

of

Jack

London's

Martin

Eden,

Marguerite

uras's

1'Eden

inema

Eden

Cinema),

a

reworking

f

her

novel

Un

Barrage

ontre e

Pacifique

The

Sea

Wall),

and the

Thieatre

u

Campagnol

and

Theatre

du

Soleil's

dramatization

f

Dickens's

David

Copperfield.

n most

instances

daptors

or an

adaptor-director,

uch

as

2

Michel

Grey,

Dialogue

avec trois uteurs

ramatiques:

ntretien

vec

Jean-Claude

rumberg,

ean-

nine

Worms,

t

Eric

Westphal,"

e Mensuel

de

la

Comedie

Francaise,

May-June

979),

p.

25.

3

Danielle

Sallenave,

"Entretienvec

AntoineVitez: Faire

theitre

e

tout,"

Digraphe

April

1976),

p.

117.

Throughout

his

rticle,

will

use

"narrative"

s

synonymous

ith

prose

text.

Narration"

illrefer

to

spoken

narrative.

4

RaymondeTempkine,

Theitre

t

roman,"

Europe April

1978),

pp.

212-19.

5

Jean-Louis

arrault,

Le Roman

adapte

au

theitre .,"

Cahiers

Renaud-Barrault

October

1976),

pp.

27-58.




4/23

433

/

FROM NOVEL

TO THEATRE

Simone

Benmussa,

worked

lone,

creating,

n

Benmussa's ase

a

theatre

iece

from

George

Moore's

Albert Nobbs.

Other

adaptations-Eden

Cinema,

for one-were

done bynovelistswho redesignedheir wnnovels for thestage.Stillothers, ike

MartinEden

and

David

Copperfield,

esulted

rom

ollective

mprovisations

ased

on

literary

lassics.

While the

phenomenon

f

adapting

novels

forthetheatre ates back

in

France

o

the mid-nineteenth

entury

when dramatists

ontinually

borrowed

plots

and

characters

fromother

writers'

exts,

these new

adaptations

bear

witness

to

the

growth

of

structural

xperimentation

n

the

arts.

At

the

end

of the

century,

he

naturalists urned heir

wn

novelistic

lices of life nto well-made

dramatic

nes;

and

by

borrowing

he

tructure

f the

bourgeois

rama,

hey

orsook he

possibility

of

real theatrical

xperimentation.

Contemporarydaptations fnovels re nterestingrecisely ecauseadaptors t-

tempt

o

pursue

narrative

echniques

n

the

stage.

Rather

han

turning

ovels nto

theatre

ieces

according

o

a dramatic

ormula,

hey

oftenmaintain he narrative

voice,

substituting

torytellers

or

haracters.

n

some cases

adaptations

ven seem

to

objectify

he

act of

reading:

n

Remegen,

1979

adaptation

of Anna

Segher's

novel of

the ame

name,

the

ction

begins

t one side

of

the

tage,glides

o the

ther,

then

recommenceslike the

turning ages

of

a novel.

Responsible

or

aunching

henew

vogue

of

adaptations

withhis

1972

production

of MichelTournier'sVendredi u

la vie

sauvage

Friday

r

Life

n the

Wilds),

tself

rereading

f Robinson

Crusoe,

AntoineVitez also first ormulated

new

theory

n

how to treat novel'stext: ifone wantsto stagea novel,one must lso stagethe

novel's

flesh,

ts narrative

hickness.

es,

I mean

houses

and streets."6

Descriptions

cannot be omitted

rom

the

stage

presentation,

ut

must be included

n

what

is

spoken.

Thus

in

Catherine,

his 1975

adaptation

of

Aragon's

Les

Cloches

de

Bifle

(The

Bells

of

Basel)

and the

production

whichhas

provided

model fornumerous

adaptations,

Vitez

uses entire ections

of

narrative.

ometimes

he actors

simply

give

voice

to both

descriptions

nd

conversations,

ncluding

he

designations:

he

said" "she

said." At other

times,

n

a

more traditional

ein,

the

actors

give

life

to

defined

haracters.

Of

all

the

recent

daptations,

three

lready

cited

from

he

prolific

977-1978

season standoutas thosewhich omeclosest orealizingVitez's dea ofbringinghe

novel's

flesh

o

the

stage. They

also

successfully

emonstrate

avaudant's

desire

o

explode

the notionof

theatre.

Martin

Eden,

Eden

Cinema,

and David

Copperfield

blend narrative

echniques

with

dramatic

nes.

They

attest

o

the

nterchangeability

of

genres

while stillnot

denying

ertain ramatic onfines.

hey

work

as theatre

pieces

but

they

lso

challenge

heir

ublic

to

accept

a kind

of

theatrewhichmirrors

the ifeof themind.

In the

following

tudy

f

these hree

daptations,

henovel

and the

playscript

will

be

compared

o

determineow the ext as

been transformed.n nstances

where

he

narrative therthan

dialogue

that

s,

descriptions,ommentary,

nteriormono-

6

Sallenave,

p.

120.




5/23

434

/

TI,

December

981

logue,

or

ourneys

nto he

haracters'

minds has been

maintained

s

in

the

novel,

discussion

f the

cenic

writing

will

show

how the

narrative as become dramatic.

Finally, conclusionbased on all three heatre ieceswillsuggest ow thecurrent

practice

of

adaptation places contemporary

rench heatre

n

the mainstream

f

twentieth-centuryxperimentations

n

narrative tructure.7

Americans now

Jack

ondon as

the uthor

f

adventure tories uch as The

Call

of

theWild

nd White

ang.

The

French,

iven

heir

pecial

nterestn

writers hose

workhas a definite

ociological

nd

political

ontent

r

a

subject

matterwhich

an

be analyzed n thoseterms, refer o all hiswork MartinEden,thesemiautobio-

graphical

ccount

of

a California ailor

who

through

he

ove

of a

high ociety

ol-

lege girl,

native

ability,

nd intense etermination ecomes an

intellectual nd an

artist.Once he has

"arrived"

he

hypocrisy

nd

emptiness

f his

situation,

hefalse

rapports

t

sets

up

between

him

and

his

beneficiaries

nd

admirers,

he

questionable

motives

hat

ead

his beloved to consent o

marriage rovoke

his suicide

a

suicide

which

foreshadowed ondon's own

in

1916,

ten

years

after

he

publication

f

the

novel).

Whereas

heAmerican

eading

ublic,

specially

n

London's

ifetime,

nterpreted

Martin

Eden

as

a

success

tory

urned

our

by

unrequited

ove,

theFrench oncen-

trate n thenovel's ndirect ttack n individualismnd direct ondemnation f the

bourgeoisie.

or

them,

Martin's

ack

of

class consciousness

nd

not his

hapless

taste

in women s the real cause

of his downfall.

In

fact,

he novel

has

three

major

but

poorly

ntegrated

oci. t can be read as

a

love

story,

s

a

political

tatement,

nd

as a handbook

for

spiring

writers.

s Lon-

don

does

indeed seem

most interested

n

putting

down

the insensitive

ich,

he

transforms

hat

begins

as

a

convincing

omance

nto a melodramatic

onfronta-

tion.

n thecourse

of the

novel,

Ruth,

he

poiled

but

charming

ianc&e

nd

symbol

of the

bourgeoisie, rows

more nd

more

wooden and

predictable

ntil,

eprived

f

life,

he

makes

Martin's

teadfast ttachment

ppear

udicrous.

Givenhis

passion

for

writing,hesubjectofan abundanceofchapters,t is hard to believethatMartin

cannot

survive without

her. His

fury

with

critics

nd

college English

professors

ought

by

itself o have

kept

him alive.

Perhaps

t

s best to understand

Martin

Eden

as a

tragic

bildungsroman

n which

the

twenty-year-old

ero seeks

both

to define imself

ccording

o what he was

-

a

hearty,

unanalyticalproduct

of the

American

working

class-and

to recreate

himself

ccording

o what

he

can

be

-

a

self-aware,

ighly

ndividualistic

riter. is

dilemma,

fwhichhe becomes

conscious

only

at

the end

of the

novel,

is thatthe

7

My analyses

f

these hree

roductions

rebasedbothon the exts nd on the

tagings

which saw in

France

n thewinter f

1978.

am

gratefulspecially

o

the alamandre

nd the

Campagnol

who

provided

me

with ccess to

their

rchives

nd

copies

of

their

npublished

daptations.




6/23

435

/ FROM NOVEL TO

THEATRE

bourgeois

ociety

n which

he lives

and

loves

does

not allow him to

integrate

hese

two selves.

In one ofthemanydiscussions fMartin'spoetics,London defineswhatcan be

consideredthe

style

of his own

novel:

"His work was

realism,

though

he

had

endeavored o

fuse t with he

fancies nd beauties

of

magination.

What

he

sought

was

an

impassioned

realism,

shot

through

with

human

aspiration

and

faith."8

Subscribing

o the

epithet

realistic,"

Martin Eden

proceeds

chronologically

rom

episode

to

episode,

each

begunby

a

significant

vent nd each concluded

y

another

significant

vent r incident. hese

episodes

eventually

ulminate

n

a climacticmo-

ment romwhichthenovel'send

inevitably

nfolds.

What

propels

he reader s the

desire o know what will

happen

to Martin

when

Ruth bandons him

s,

it

s

clear,

she will.

The

"realistic"

tory

that

s

contemporary

o

the writer

nd

anchored

n

social

documentation)

an

be divided

n two

parts;

thefirst

twenty-one

hapters)

ncludes

Martin's ncounterwith Ruth

Morse,

his

education,

his

discovery

f

writing

s

a

vocation,

his

work

in

a

laundry,

his

embracing

f Herbert

pencer's

ocial dar-

winism,

nd his

winning

f Ruth.

The

second

part

twenty-five

hapters),

not as

clearly rganized

n

episodes,

deals

especially

withhis

growing

wareness f

upper-

class

hypocrisy.

t

can

be divided nto a

period

of

unsuccessful

riting

n

his

Grub

St.

digs,

his

encounterwith

lter-ego

Brissenden ho

introduces im to

socialism,

his

expounding

f his own

individualism,

nd his

betrayal

y

Ruth.

The

novel's nd-

ing,

a

parody

of

a success

tory, rings

ack all the haracters nd

resolves

heir e-

lationship o Martin n a chronicle fhisdecline.

Several differentinds f

chapters

ontribute

he

passion"

o

the

realism."

hese

range

from he

didactic

Martin's

houghts

n

writing, pencer,

nd

politics)

o the

psychological analyses

of Martin

and Ruth's

ncompatibility)

o the

sociological

(commentaries

n the ife

tyle

of the

Morses)

to the

adventurous

descriptions

f

Martin's outs

with

recalcitrant

ditors).

A

third-person

arrator

ells he

tory

s

it

happened,beginning y

qualifying

he

emotional

otherness"

f

the

protagonist.

Martin's

ifferences

also communicated

through

what Martin ees and thinks

bout himself.

rom

the

outset,

he narrator

enters ntoMartin'smind to let the reader know what he is experiencing. hus,

although

he

"I"

is not

used,

it

is

in

factMartin's

I"

which

focuses

the

novel.

His

point

of view s so

potent

hat

by

theend of thefirst

hapter,

he

reader

ompletely

empathizes

with his

situation.

London

also

frequently

mploys

a narrative

echnique

which

takes the reader

from

Martin's

perceptions

f

the exteriorworld to his interior

ision. Words

and

sense

impressions

onstantly ransport

Martin to

his

past

to

create the

feeling

f

schizophrenia

hich

stablisheshenovel'smood:

Yes,

Martin oves ife.

Yes,

life s

good.

No,

he does not understand he

world.

No,

he will

never"make it." On

meeting

uth's

ovely

mother or hefirst

ime,

or

xample,

Martin

uddenly

inds

himself

lunging

ackwards n time to

otherencounterswith

beautiful but un-

touchable-ladies.

8

Jack

London,

MartinEden

New

York:

Airmont,

970),

p.

180.




7/23

436 /

TI,

December

981

Although

the narrator

occasionally

enters

nto the minds of

the other main

characters,

e

rarely

llows

them

ny

complexity.

he

"villains,"

uch

as Martin's

brother-in-law, iggenbotham, ondemnthemselves hrough heir own coarse

dialogue.

The narrator lso

profers

his own

opinions

with

increasing

requency

towards

the

end of the novel.

Ruth

especially

bears

the brunt of his

negative

judgments.

Primarily

ecause of the

reader's

ympathy

with

Martin,

he

novel succeeds. In

the

ast few

chapters,

ondon's skill

n

depicting

Martin's

lienation,

his

loss of

a

sense

of

self,

nd his decision o

seek

peace

in

the ocean whichfor o

long

had nur-

tured

his soul

and formed is

spirit

ompensates

or

he muddleof the middle ec-

tion.

In

addition,

the

arresting

descriptions

f

hard,

physical

labor

impose

themselveswith

enough

force

o

alter the reader's

understanding

f the world of

work.

The

story

f

the

working-class

oy succeeding

s

an artist

losely

paralleled

he

professional istory

f the

Salamandre,

theatre

roupe

born

of theevents

f

May

1968.9The

troupe's

sthetic,

o

challenge

he

notionof

artistic

ierarchy

nd

com-

placent

drama,

underlay

heir ecision

o

adapt

Martin

Eden

for he

tage.

Martin's

stubborn

efusal

f

community rovided

he

ctors

negative

model.

n their

dap-

tation

hey

ould

suggest

n

opposite

mode

of

action.

The

troupe

btained he

rights

o the

project

n

the

pring

f

1976.

A

four-person

crew,

ncluding

hedirector ildas

Bourdet,

dramaturg,

cenographer,

nd one ac-

tor

mmediately egandesigning performancepace

which

would

help

recreate

he

atmosphere f thenovel.10The 350-seatenclosedplayingarea theyconstructed

resembled

ship's

deck. Made

of

wood

with

raps

nd doors

for

toring rops,

and

graced

by multiperformance

evels,

the

space

could also take

on the contours f

whatever he action

suggested.

Six

more

actors

oined

the

original

roup

n

the fall

to

begindeveloping

he

text

scenically.

The

director

ad thembase

their

mprovisations

irectly

n

passages

from

he

novel."

After hree

months f

rehearsal,

he

Salamandre

erformed

Mar-

tinEden

unanimously

raised

for ts faithfulnesso

London'sown words.12

The text

s, indeed,

quite

faithful.

espite

extensive

paraphrasing,

he

actors

added almostnothing. heparaphrasingtself sually mooths ransitions etween

parts

of a

chapter

r different

hapters

hat

have been condensed

nto one scene.

A

few

changes

n

the

textmake

it more

contemporary.

When

Brissenden escribes

9

The

Salamandre,

ike

everal

f thebest

young roupes

n

contemporary

rance,

had

ts

origins

n

the

"active

strikes" f

May

1968 when

the

director

f

Le

Havre's

maison de

la culture

sked a

group

of

neophyte

ctors

o

help

the

revolution"

y performinggit-prop ieces

n

ocal

factories.

rom hat ime

the

troupe,

now

animating

he

Dramatic

Center

f theNorth

n

Tourcoing

near

Lille),

has

practiced

style

of

corrosive

omedy

nd a method

f collective reation.

10

My

information

n

the

genesis

f the

daptation

omes

from

nterviews

n

Tourcoing

withGildas

Bourdet,

Alain

Milianti,

nd

Jean-Loup erry

f

the

Salamandre,

June

979.

11

The

troupe

sed Claude

Cendr&e's

ranslation

f

MartinEden

Paris:

Hachette,

973)

for ts

dapta-

tion.

12

Franqois

halet

n

France

oir

10

November

977) remarked,

or

xample,

hat onehas the

mpres-

sion

of

reading

he

novel

while

watching

he

performance."




8/23

437

/

FROM NOVEL TO

THEATRE

3011,

A\,:

M~k

?S

Martin den:

Martin ncountersuth

symbolizedy

her

dress).

hotography

Nicholas

Treatt.

what

kind of

woman Martin

really

needs,

for

example,

his

choice of

adjectives

reflects

he frankness

f the 1970s.

The

Salamandre

uses

all

of London'snarrative

trategies

objective

description,

third-person

ommentary,

nterior

isions,

descriptions

iased

by

Martin's

oint

of

view.

In fact

more than

half

of the

play

is narrated

description

nd

commentary)

rather

han

cted

out

n

dialogue

form.

he

troupe mploys

numerous

echniques

o

make this

narration

ramatic.

One of

the

best nvolves

turning

he

narrative

nto

dialogue,

s,

for

xample,

whennumerous nemies

nd Martin ssemble

n

a televi-

sion

talk how

format. s each

character

arrateswhathas

become of

Martin,

he or

she

stops

s

though osing

question.

Martin inishes

he

thought

s

though iving

an

answer,

which

nother

haracter

hen

picks up:

THE INTERVIEWER:

He readmagazinesn which ewas mentioned?

MARTIN:

He couldn't

ecognize

imself;

he uthor

f

o

many

est ellers as

only

..

THE INTERVIEWER:

A

wisp

of

smoke,

n llusion.

.

13

Many

of the cenes

ransform

arrative

nto

ong

dramatic

monologues.

Each has

a distinct

tyle.

n

one,

n whichMartin

escribes hehours

he

spends

writing,

n ac-

tor

ings

he

ines

to an

accompaniment

f rockmusic.

n

another,

n

whichMartin

discovers

Herbert

pencer's

nifying rinciple,

n actor

spews

out all of ife's nter-

connected

aspects-"love,

poetry,

earthquakes,

fire

...],

beauty,

murder, lovers,

greyhounds

n

general,

obacco"

p.

29)-

in

a

standup

omic's

routine.

13The Salamandre,MartinEden,unpublishedmanuscript, . 65. Additional eferences ill be in the

text.




9/23

438 /

T],

December

981

Martin's nterior

houghts

re

dramatized

n

scenes

uch

s one

n

which

wo Mar-

tins

the

"old"

and

the

"new")

face each

other,

ne

shaving

he

other's

ace:

MARTIN

NO.

1: After

eafinghrough

book n

the

tiquette

f

personal

leanliness

..

MARTIN: NO. 2:

he

decided

he

needed

a cold

bath . .

MARTIN

No.

1

&

2:e

ve

ry ay.

[p.

13]

This dualismnot

only

gives

ife o the

narrative

ut

also

indicates nterior onflict:

WhenRuth

breaks

her

ngagement

o

Martin,

wo actresses

ead

the

Dear

John"

et-

ter he sends him.

One

cries;

the other

aughs.

Othervisualmetaphors f a more violentphysicalnature lso theatricalize he

narrative.

WhenMartin

ecounts

he

many

hourshe

spends

t the

Oakland

library,

the other

ctors

throw olume after

olume

at

him.

He is

literally

uriedunder he

weight

f

knowledge.

These

techniques

f

"performed

arration"

nsure

lively

production.They

also

allow the ctors

o

comment n the extwithout

hanging

t.

This atter

spectgreat-

ly

undercuts

he

ritics'

laimsoffaithfulness.

n

fact he

roupe's

cenic

writing

om-

pletely einterprets

he

text.The

constant

tylistic

ariations,

he

hanges

n

rhythm

and

mood,

the

lternation

rom

ialogue

to

narration

eplace

he

multiplicity

f

foci

in

thenovel with

he

ingle

urpose

of

thwarting

sentimental

eception

f

Martin's

story. In its choice of passages to include, its orderingof the play, and its

establishing

f

a

different

oint

ofview from he

novel's,

heSalamandre

resents

ts

own

reading

f MartinEden.

First

f

all,

the choice

of

episodes

reorients hefocus

of the work.

By

eaving

out

lengthy

onsiderations

f the

econdary

haracters,

ncluding

he

cenesofdomestic

chaos at

the

Higgenbothams'

r

in

Martin's

Grub

St.

digs

and

the

concluding

chapters

n which

Martin

ettles

hefuture

fhis

dependents,

heSalamandre

reates

a

tighter

ork

han

henovel

with

ll

attention

entered

n Martin.

Omitting

Mar-

tin's

many

discourses

n "how

to

write"

nd

all

of the details bout

publishing

nd

payments

ontributes

o the

play'sunity.

However,

by

also

leaving

ut

all butone of

Martin's nterior

ourneys,

he Salamandreeliminates hecrisisof

identity

which

holds

the novel

together.

n

its

version,

the

relationship

etween

Martin and

Ruth

with Ruth's

family

merely

visual

extensions f

herself

is the

only

focus.

Since

from he

beginning

f the

play

the

group

designates

uth

s

a class

enemy,

he

political

heme

rom he

novel becomes

the exclusive

oncern f

the

play.

A

major

change

n

ordering

lso

permits

he

Salamandre

o

impose

ts own inter-

pretation

f thetext.The

play

presents

irst,

nd

in a

blatantly

melodramatic

orm,

the

last

chapters

of the novel. In this

opening

cene,

a

parody

of a

Hollywood

classic,

a

highly

olored and

tearful uth

ttempts

o

woo Martinback to

her.

He,

lost and

distracted,

hoots

himself

when she leaves.

The

actors

mouth he

English

wordswhile voice n French dubs" hetext.The addition fMax Steiner's oman-

ticcinema

music nd

flickeringights,

eminiscentf a bad

projection,

omplete

he

allusion.

Thus

the

Salamandre

n one "cut" liminates he kind of

suspense

what




10/23

439 / FROM NOVEL

TO THEATRE

?iio~~~6i-

" "

:r~?

~?~

.h~lr~xQ

r~*

r~~

rr^

4lrr

F.

Two

actresses

lay

Ruth's

ejection

f

Martin.

hotograph

y

Sabine

trosser.

happens

next?)

nd

condemns he sort of sentimental

tyle

which would

keep

the

public

from

udging

Martin.

The

troupe's

undamental

method f

imposing

ts

point

of view is

by

fracturing

Martin's onsciousness.All sevenactors, ncludinghewomen,playMartin t dif-

ferentmoments f the

play.

The

passage

from cene to scene

transpires

y

passing

therole

of Martin rom

ctorto actor.

Transferring

inesor articles

f

clothing

om-

pletes

hetransition. he

audience

s,

therefore,

revented

rom

dentifying

irectly

withhim. t mustfirst

egister

he

actors'

pinion.

n

most

cenes,

he

performance

satirizes

Martin

by

showing

him

as a

silly

dupe.

In the

scene called "A

Grammar

Lesson,"

or

xample,

Martin o

exaggerates

is

working-class

ccent

hathe

appears

not

only

lliterate ut

hopelessly

tupid.

Not

just

the "hero" ut all

the

characters re satirized

n

performance.

ometimes

the actors

objectify psychological

tateto ridicule

hem.

For

example,

fterRuth

confesses erpenchant orMartin ohermother,hetwo actresses xchange lothes

and

roles,

ndicating

hat

hey eally

re cut from he ame

upper

middle-class

loth.

Gertrude

iggenbotham's

ubservience

o her

husband s

lampooned

when the ac-

tress

erforming

he role

repeats

he ast word of each of the husband's

ines.

Stage

action

often ontradicts

he

eriousness

f thetext

nd thereforelso

serves

to

criticize he characters.

n

a farcical

ight

gag

Mr.

Morse's disembodiedhand

reaches

from

under a

very

ong

table

to

fondleMrs. Morse's breast while he

in-

dignantly

arries n about

Martin's

ulgarity.

n another

cene,

a

pseudo-Brechtian

chorus makes

off-colormusical

commentaries

bout

Ruth's

pious praises

of

Mr.

Butler,

he

poor

boy

who

made

good

by

sacrificing

is health

n

his

way

to the

op.

In

still nother

cene,

one

which

also illustrates

he effect f Ruth's

harping

bout

Butler's ard

work,

Ruth

pushes

Martin

tage

center ntilhe falls nto n

open trap.

She

then lams

the door shut.




11/23

440

/

TI,

December

981

The

abundance

of

scenic

nvention,

which

ommunicates oth

London's

text nd

the

troupe's

articular eading

f

it,

presents

series

of

dramaticmoments.These

proceedmuch ikethediscretemagesthat omposea film,witheach scenefixing

itself n

thebrain

before henext

ne is

established. he

cinematic

uality

f

Martin

Eden

s

further

nhanced

by

the

use of musical

ommentary.

he

guitar

icking

f

Leo

Kottke ecomes

Martin's

heme,

ecurring

hroughout

he

play

as a

consistently

sympathetic

oice. Other

musical

accompaniments,

uch

as

the Texas

Mexican

Boys'

songs,

give

local color to

various

episodes.

Still

others,

notably

Schubert's

"Death

and the

Maiden,"

reinforce he

motional

ontent. he

sound

system

athes

the

public

in

the

pathos

of

Schubertwhile

Martin,

n

the

final

eight-minute

e-

quence,

wraps

himselfn

a

huge

white

heet

nd "descends

nto

the

sea."

Martin

Eden,

despite

the use of

these

cinematic

ffects,

s

before ll else

an

ex-

travagantlyheatrical iece, depending n thecontact etween udience nd actors

to

make

t

work. The

enclosed et

establishes n

immediate

hysical

onnection

e-

tween

public

and

players. They

inhabit

the

same

space.

If

distanced fromthe

characters

by

the

satire,

the

spectators

kinetically

participate

n

the

actors'

movements.

he

public

thus identifies"

ith

the

actors.

This

dentification

ives

n

entirely

ifferentimension

o

the heatre

iece;

for

y

adhering

o the

ctors

ather

han

he

haracters,

he

udience

hares

heir

eading

f

the

novel.

The

space

then,

articularly

n its

bstract

uality,

an be considered

he

space

of the

reading

nd

the

production

n

exploration

f

the

process

f

reading.

By

deconstructing

nd

reconstructing

he

novel,

the

Salamandre

shows the

in-

terdependency

f

the maintenance

f

cultural

myths

nd

how one reads. Each

in-

fluences he other.Whenthe

spectators

ee whatthe Salamandresees in Martin

Eden,

especially

ince the

scenic

action

usually

contradicts

he

text,

hey

are

en-

couraged

to considerhow

they

tructure hat

they

hemselves ead.

The

Sea

Wall

counts

among Marguerite

uras's

most

overtly utobiographical

works.14

Written

n

1950,

thenovel fictionalizes

uras's

memories

f

growing

p

in

French ndochina

n

the

1920s.

The

story

s based on her mother's

eingduped

by

colonialist ropaganda nto eavingFrance ndspendingll her avings n a worth-

less

rice

plantation.

Her

resulting

bsession

with

damming p

the ea

to

keep

t from

destroying

er

crops gives

both the

title

nd

major

theme

o

the

novel.

Duras's narrative

epicts

n

a

time

ontinuum he

low deathof

themother

never

named)

and the

corresponding

iberation

f her

children,

uzanne

and

Joseph.

The

first alf hronicles

ne of the

ast

mainevents

n

their

ives,

the ncounter

ithMr.

Jo,

vapid

son

of a rich

colonial

planter.

His

pursuit

f

sixteen-year-old

uzanne

preoccupies

heentire

amily

virilebrother

oseph

corning

Mr.

Jo's

imidity,

he

mother orn

between

disgust

withher own

desireto

exchange

Suzanne

for

money

for hedams and

real concern verher

daughter's

uture,

ndSuzanne

herself

osing

hernaivetywhile earning ow to survive. n theend,Mr. Jo'sdesperate ift fa

14

Marguerite

uras,

Un

Barrage

ontre e

Pacifique

Paris:

Gallimard,

950).




12/23

441

/

FROM

NOVEL TO THEATRE

diamond

"no

strings

ttached"

aves

his

face and rekindles he

family's

hopes

of

escaping

their

overty.

The secondhalfof thenovel concentrates ore pecificallyn the hildren'som-

ing

of

age.

It

commences

y

a sketch

f

Saigon

where

he

family oes

to sell Mr.

Jo's

tokenof self-esteem.

When

Joseph

isappears

nto the

city

with

platinum

londe

protectress,

he mother

collapses.

The

family

finally

returns o its

provincial

bungalow;

but

Joseph

eaves

again.

Suzanne

chooses to

give away

her

virginity

o a

local

farmer;

nd

the

mother ies.

Although

he

tory

f the

family

tructureshe

narrative,

xtensive

nd

horrifying

descriptions

f

peasant

ife,

particularly

f the

ndigent

hildren,

omplete

he

por-

trait of colonized Indochina.

Duras

also

includes several

fine-honed,

atirical

characterizationsf

colonial

types;

for

xample,

Pa

Bart,

n alcoholic

pernod mug-

gler nd recipientftheFrench overnment'segiond'Honneur oryearsof faithful

service

n

the

colonies;

or the

Corporal, Malaysian

deafman nd former olunteer

to a chain

gang

whose

guards

kept

his wife

clothed,fed,

nd

pregnant. xcept

for

the

hopeless

Mr.

Jo,

Duras

shelters

ther

xorbitantly ealthy

whites rom

irect

x-

posure by

sarcastically

eeping

hem

n

"the

upper

district"

f

Saigon, enjoying

in

undiluted

eace,

the sacred

spectacle

of

[their]

wn

existence."15

Rather ike a well-made

lay,

The Sea

Wall

sets

up

its conclusion n

the

opening

chapter;

n introduction

hich

also

immediately

stablishes he

point

of

view,

the

metaphor

or he

unfolding

f the

tory,

nd the

major

themes.

he first

ine

posits

the

family

nit s the collective

onsciousness

f the

novel:

"All

three f themhad

thought

twas a

good

idea to

buy

thathorse ..

."16

Thus the novel evolves as a

function f their

xperience,

ot

focusing

n

any

one member

n

particular.

Most

of

the time their

xperience"

s

seen

from

hedetached

position

f the

narrator,

whose

cynicalunderstanding

f the

xploitation

f the

poor

by

the

rich

gives

the

narration

an

ironical ast.

The

family's

ictimization

y

the colonial

land

developers

nd their

resulting

frustrationnd

anger

which most

often ause them o

lash

out

at

each

other

n

mean

exchanges

create a tensionwhich

underlies he novel from ts

beginning

o

the

mother'sdeath. The

love-hate bond

between

the

children nd

theirmother

originally

eveals tself

n

their eaction o

the

moribund

orse,

her

analogue. Theybothwant the animal to

go

on

living

nd

hope

hewillend their

ong

wait and die.

Suzanne and

Joseph

ntertain

many explicit

reamsof

escape

-

in

particular

i-

sions of

miraculous

rrivals

of

latter-day rinces

or

princesses

who

sweep

them

away

in

shining

lack cars.

Music,

hunting,

movies

represent

kind of

freedom.

Through

them,

he

children

rasp

at a life

beyond

the barren

plains

of

Kam. The

mother

scapes only

ntoherobsession. t s the

driving

orce

which

keeps

her

live.

Straightforward,

hronologically

rdered,

nd

easy

to

read,

The Sea Wall fits

within he

conventions f the

nineteenth-century

ovel.

Indeed,

of Duras's

eighteen

15

Marguerite

uras,

The Sea

Wall,

trans.Herma

Briffault

New

York:

Farrar,

trauss

nd

Giroux,

1952),

p.

137.

16

The ea

Wall,

.

1.




13/23

442

/

TI,

December981

novels,

t s

themost

raditional,

making

se of

nonfloating

ialogue

nd

witty

om-

mentary

ituatedwithin

plot,

and

presenting

ane,

or

at

least

understandably

disturbed characters. Humorous in its sarcasm, painful in its knowledge,a

bildungsroman

f a

family,

nd

portrait

f a

people,

The Sea Wall

grabs

ts

readers

not

by teasing

hem

o

understanding,

ut

by

piquing

heir

uriosity

bout how

the

author

will

complete

good story.

Twenty-seven

years separate

the

publications

of

The Sea Wall and

Eden

Cinema,17

uras's

adaptation.

n

between,

he has written

ome

forty

ther

works,

including

dozen

film

cenarios. To do

justice

to

her recent

narratives,

critic

would not

spend

much time

describing

hat

the

characters o

or what

happens

to

them.

The

interest

f

these texts ies

not in

the events

but

in

the

unresolved nd

unresolvable

tension which is

communicated a

straining

which

radically

transforms

onhappenings

nto

experience.

With

such a

change

n

style,

t is not

surprising

hat Duras's

reworking

f

her

traditionalnovel results

n

a

highly xperimental lay.

Eden

Cinema,

narrated

rather han

performed,

etsbefore he

pectators

hiddenbut

potentway

of struc-

turing

xistence.

A

resume f the

events"

f the

play

would

read almost ike

a

resume

f the

novel;

even

the

two-part

ivisionremains.

Duras

has

selected

ertain

assages

to use

in-

tact such

as

Joseph's ecounting

f the initial

meeting

with

his new mistress.

Others,

such

as Mr.

Jo's

wooing

of

Suzanne,

have

been condensed sometimes

mime

replacing

he

narration.

As in

the

novel,

the

mbiguous

relationship

etween

themembers fthefamily nderpinshenarrative. hesesimilarities,owever, re

only

superficial;

or

he

ubtle

hanges

n

focus

nd

less subtle

hanges

n

form

ield

an

entirely

ifferent

ork,

particularly

rom he

point

of view of the

public

who ex-

periences

it.

First,

uras

has

altered

hefocus.

Eden Cinematells

he

mother's,

ot the

family's,

story.

he

is

the

central

ivot

around

which

verything

lse revolves.

n

fact

nthe

stage

directions

uras

calls her

"the

object

of the

narration"

p.

12).

The

play

thus

commences

y

Suzanne and

Joseph

arrating

he vents

f

her

ife.

Certain

hanges

in their ccount

gives

her

haracter

more

trength

nd

interesthan

n

the

novel;

for

example,

according

o the

play,

the mother

went to Indochina

alone,

before

he

married.

Duras also

adds

another

dimension

o the

portrayal

f the

mother.

n

the novel

she does

not nsist

n

theelemental

onnection

etween he

mother

mere)

nd

the

sea

(mer).

n

the

play

this

quation

becomes

mmediately

lear

both

physically

nd

verbally.

As

object

of

the

narration,

he

mother

oes

not

move,

but

is,

rather,

monolithic

resence

round

whom Suzanne

and

Joseph

urn,

unable

to

separate

themselves.

hey

are as obsessed

by

her as she s

by

the ea.

The children's hanted

presentation

ftheir

mother itualizes

er,

reating

n

other-worldly

mbiance nd

establishing

er as

a

force

reater

han

single

ndividual. n one of their

omments

on her

emotional

trength,hey

otally

ssimilateher

to othernatural

forces:

17

Marguerite

uras,

I'Eden

Cinema

Paris:

Mercure

e

France,

977).

Additional eferences

ill

be in

the

text.




14/23

443

/

FROM NOVEL TO THEATRE

Without

od,

themother.

Without

aster.

Without

easure.

Withoutimits

. ..)

Theforest,hemother,he cean.

[p.

17]

The

play,

then,

has a

mythic

imension

henovel

does not. Not

merely

statement

about Suzanne

and

Joseph's

mother,

t s

about

"Mother,"

s

she

forms, ontrols,

nd

hauntsherchildren.

This

idea

of

"Mother,"

begun

in

Suzanne

and

Joseph's

narration,

ultimately

becomes

Suzanne's

perception.

Her

consciousness tructures

he

play

in

the

"past

made

present"

f her

memory.

n

fact,

he

space

of the

representation

s

essentially

that

of

Suzanne's

remembering.

er

effort,

nd to a certain xtent

Joseph's,

s

to

resuscitate he

mother,

ead when the

play

begins.

This makes

the

relationship

etween uzanne and the

mother

n extension f

the

centralfocus. As the

play

progresses,

uzanne and

an

additionalnarrator

alled

"The Voice of

Suzanne"

attempt

o

assert the

independence

f her

consciousness

from

he

mother's

till

powerful

omination.

Only by

metaphorically

ecreating

he

mother nd

burying

er

again

can

Suzanne

finally

chieve

selfhood.

For

her

play

of

Suzanne's

memory,

uras has

chosen

a formwhich

takes ts n-

spiration

rom

ilm;

he

flashes,

he

mprinting,

he

haziness,

he

sensuality

f

the

movies lso

beingqualities

of the

remembering

ind.Duras has even

given

he

title

of a

cinemahouse to her

play.

The

spectators,

hen,

xperience

den Cinema as

a

series

f

evolving mages.

There s

first

a long

shot"

f the

tage tself,

with ts

con-

centric

quares

defined

y

the

ighting. lthough

ne

square represents

he

family's

bungalow

nd

the

other

he

plains

of

Kam,

the ffects of

vast

nothingness, spatial

metaphor

orthe

family's

misery,

nd

perhaps

for

Suzanne's

memory

t the

begin-

ning

of the

play.

Suzanne,

the

mother,

oseph,

nd laterMr.

Jo

nter nd

take

their

places

stage

front.

wo

specially esignated

arrators ho read

parts

f

the

ext,

re

seated

downstage.

Despite

occasional

breaks

n

theflat

quality

of

the

performance,

most of

the

"action"

ccurs

on the

apron

where

heactors tand

n

a

row

facing

he

audience.

Sometimes

hey

narrate

nd mime he

ction.

Sometimes

hey

merely

ar-

rate. Sometimes

heir oices

are

replacedby

thoseof

the

seated

narrators;

nd

they

perform

n

slow

stylized

motions

what s

described.Most of

the ime

hey

issociate

what s said from ow theymove,creatinghefeelingf a dream, nhallucination,

a

memory

or a

faulty rojection.

Indeed,

Carol

Murphy

notes hat he ombination

nd often issociation

f

mime,

off-stage

oice,

and

piano

music

resemble he silent

movie world of

the

Eden

Cinema where heMother

layed

accompaniments uring

er

young

womanhood.'18

Life and the movies

passed

her

by

there,

where he

could not even see

the

screen

positioned

oo

high

bove herhead.

Only

themusicwas

hers,

musicwhich n

the

stage

version

replaces

her

voice,

speaking

n

her

place, defining

er as does

her

silence.

As

fascinating

s

are

the

visual

images,

the

haunting

efrain,

nd the

hypnotic

rhythm,heydo notalonecarry hepiece.EdenCinemarelies inally nwhatonly

18

Carol

Murphy,

I'Eden

Cinema,"

Creative

Works,

reviews)

rench eview

December

978),

p.

381.




15/23

444

/

TI,

December

981

live theatre

ossesses

the

physical resence

f

the ctors.With o

little

ction

very

gesture

as an

extraordinary

esonance

thus

n a

mimed

equence

whenthe

family

"walksto thevillage," hey eem to burstforth rom hestage.And although he

cataloguing

f thehorrors

f

themother'sife

artially

ustains he

dramatic

ension,

the

trained,

arely

mobilebodies of the ctors re what

keep

the udience

on

edge.

Emotional

ambiguity

eflected

orporally

replaces

the

ideological

conflictwhich

propels

otherdramas.

In

the second

part

of

the

play

(a

narrativeduet

between

Suzanne and

her

voice)

a

single

raised

eyebrow

r

a

quarter

urn

f thehead elec-

trifies

he

pace

between

he

actors,

making

t

almosttactile.

By

functioning

n this

ensory

evel,

Eden Cinema

s both

ess

engage

nd

harsher,

more

provocative

han

thenovel. The recreation f themother

nd

the

xploration

of

Suzanne's

relationship

ith

her xclude

or subordinatemostof the

political

atire

and social

commentary.

o detached

author's

voice ironizes

over

the fate of

In-

dochina. nfact he

only

colonial

type

ncluded nthe

play,

other hanMr.

Jo,

s the

Corporal

who sits

silently

n

stage,

n

lovinghomage

to

the

mother.

The

play's

anguage,

tripped

f

emotionalism,

ever

disguises

he

ove-hate ela-

tionship

etween

he mother

nd her children.

Remembering

he

past,

Suzanne

s

more ucid and

uncompromising

hanwhen he ived t. She

now knows

how much

she

neededhermother

o

die;

but

also how

much

he

oved her. The materialization

of

this

mbiguity culpted

before

he

pectators'

yes

recalls

their

wn

paradoxical

longings

for

absorption

nd

separation,

ongings

which characterize he mother-

child

ink. n its

mythical

imension den Cinema llustrates

hereal

cost

of

an

in-

dividual's

psychological

reedom.

Whether he udience

dheres

o the

llustration

epends

n

part

on its

willingness

to allow

itself o enter

nto

the world

of

the

play. Despite

the

suggestive

orceof

Suzanne's

descriptions,

he

spectators

have

to work

hard to create

out of the

unblinking

ld

lady

on

stage

the

stubborn nd

dynamic

woman fromSuzanne's

past.

The

play

calls

upon

them

ndirectly

ut

calls

upon

them,

evertheless,

o

make

analogies

from heir

wn

experience.

den Cinema

s therefore

o

paradoxical

diver-

tissement

ut rather n

invitation o

a

voyage through

he

mind of a

complex

character.

t resolves

nothing

ut eaves the

pectators

n the

threshold

f

their

wn

remembrances.

Read

in

adolescence,

reread

n

adulthood,

Charles

Dickens'sDavid

Copperfield

(1850)

changes

n

meaning

ut

not

n

impact.

Multileveled,

antasmagoric,

his

fic-

tionalized

utobiography peaks

through

avid's (and

Dickens's)

ntimate ecollec-

tions

o

thechild

n thereader bothas

the hildwas and

still s and as the hild

has

grown

up

to

be.

The

density

f the

reading xperience

tems

n

part

from his

om-

plex

relationship

o the

reader,

ut

also from he

density

f David's own

adventures,

thenuances

n the

point

of

view,

and the

everal

nterpretations

o whichthenovel

lends tself.




16/23

445

/ FROM

NOVEL TO THEATRE

From his

portentous

birthto his second but at last mature

marriage,

David-

Dickens reconstructs is

passions,

his

travails,

his

good

luck,

his

stupidity,

is

wisdom na 1,000-page hronicle hat akeshimfrom lunderstoneo Yarmouth o

London

to

Canterbury

o the continent nd back

to

London

again.

These

stops

on

David's

way

to

manhood

come alive because of

his

nteraction

ith

the characters

who both

lived

in

his

past

and who live

on in

the

present

f his

rememberings:

Clara,

his

doll-like

mother;

Peggotty,

is

salt-of-thearth

nurse;

the

Murdstones,

horrific

xemplars

f

Victorian

bsurdities;

he

Micawbers,

mock-heroes

f

their

own

absurdities;

James teerforth,

troubling

allen

ngel;

Little

Emily,

fallen

angel

of

another

kind;

Aunt

Betsey

rotwood,

David's hard-on-the-outside-soft-on-

the nside

avior;

Mr.

Dick,

her

other

but

brilliantly

imple-minded

rotege;

Uriah

Heep,

the

most

reptilian

f

all

the

novel's

villains;

and

Agnes

Wickfield,

he most

saintlike

f ts

heroines.A

thorough

iscussion

f all the

characters nd all the

ex-

ploitswould entailpages ofanalysis o fullofextraordinaryersonalities,eminal

moments,

ortunate

oincidences,

momentous

ncounters,

nd evil

nfluences

hat

t

might

eem a

fairy

ale rather hanthe

haunting

nd

profound

ethinking

nd

reliv-

ing

of

David-Dickens'sown

lifethat

t

is.

Rethinking

nd

reliving

t

s,

ndeed,

s

David-Dickens,

he dult

storyteller,

akes

his

distance

rom

r

identifies

ith

the child

n

his

story.

ometimes e

interjects

note

of

rony

s when

he talks bout his

early

ove affairs. ometimes

e

satirizes

is

own

presumptuousness

s a

young

dandy.

Often

he

reexperiences

ompletely

he

terrors nd

abjection

f a childforced

oo

early

o fend

or

himself nd to

cope

with

others'

adism

and

instability.

At all timesDickens,as author and

controlling

oice, infuseshis

story

with a

great

weetness the weetness f thewriter ho likes

his

characters

nd

appreciates

his

created

world,

howeverharsh.

By

the

nd

of the

novel,

the

good

have

won,

the

bad have

experienced

heir

ust

deserts.

very

haracter

as a

place

in

the difficult

but

nonalienating

cheme

of

things

which

nforms he

novel's

world

view.

Beyond

the

mythic

uality

of this estoration f

order,

Dickensalso

establishes

subterranean

evel of

family elationships.

murky ensuality

ermeates

his

uper-

ficially

sexless novel. The

myriad

emotional

couplings-those

of

fathers nd

daughters

nd

mothers

nd sons

taking

recedence

ver

husbands nd

wives-

hints

at the subconscious

desires nd

psychologicalwarping

ife

within

he

family,

nd

particularlyhe Victorian amily.David sees but does notunderstand; is almost

unrelieved

hildlike

naivety

masks

but

cannot

hide

the relentless

ibidinaldrive.

Whether ead as

a

simple

dventure

tory

et

n

Victorian

England,

bildungs-

roman

culminating

n

self

wareness,

r a

mythic

econstructionf archaic

ttach-

ments nd unsuccessful

ublimations,

avid

Copperfield

orks

on

thereader's wn

perceptions

f

his or

her

past

and

present

ife.

A

formative

ovel,

t

nfluences

ith-

out

simplifying

he reader's

nderstanding

f childhood

experience.

It took

many

ndividual alents o recreate hevital

world

of

David

Copperfield

for he

contemporary

rench

tage.

However,

the

two

troupes

which

ook this ask

upon

themselves

rought

o

bear both

longexperience

f

collective ndeavor nda

personal

nvestment

n

portraying

ickens's world.

Their effortsed at

least one




17/23

446

/

TI,

December

981

critic

o comment hat the theatrical

avid

Copperfield

enthim

marvelling

ack

not

only

nto Dickens'sbut also

his

own childhood.19

The Theatre u Campagnol nd theThe~tredu Soleilbegantheir ollaborationn

the

ummer

f 1976 when

Ariane

Mnouchkine,

irector f the

Soleil,

ent

her

heatre

to

Jean-Claude

enchenat,

former

member

f

her

troupe

nd

founder

f

theCam-

pagnol.

While Mnouchkine

continued

to work on her

film

Molilre,

Penchenat

directed

wenty-four

ctors

from

both

troupes

n

improvisations

f

thirty-six

f

Dickens's

haracters.

ickens's wn

highly

heatrical

haracterizations,

rawn

with

broad

strokes

nd

replete

with

private

tics

and

speech patterns, elped

orient he

improvising.20

Unlike

the

Salamandre,

which imited tself

o London's

text,

he

Campagnol-

Soleil fabricated

ts own out

of

the

mprovisations.

While

the actors'masterful

m-

personations reserve hefeeling f Dickens,their extrarelyduplicatesor even

paraphrases

is words.

To

present

he

youthfulness

nd

vigor

of

Dr.

Strong,

or x-

ample,

the haracter

nters

ogging,

ollowed

y

his tudents

hothen

isten,

nrap-

tured,

o

a discourse

n

tropes,

discourse

Dr.

Strong

never

makes

n

the novel.

With an

eye

for

the

perfect

ejoinder,

he

company

does

keep

such

ines as Mr.

Dick's

advice

to Aunt

Betsey

bout what to do

withDavid:

"Why

f

was

you

...

I

should

..

wash

him;"2'

nd

Agnes's

vowal

to David

at

the

play's

nd:

"I

have

oved

you

all

my

ife "22

owever,

most

of the

dialogue,

and the occasional

narrated

n-

troduction

o a new

movement,

s

invented.

Additions

uch as

Miss Murdstone's

cruel

drilling

f David

on

the

mperfect

ubjunctive

f the

verb

astreindre"

urns is

plightnto a distinctivelyallicone.

The

company

lso

develops

metaphors

uggested y

Dickens and

uses them

n

stage

to

link discrete

pisodes

of the novel.

For

example,

a series

of

comparisons

with

flowers

elps

situate he other haracters

n

relation

o David

and establishes

transitions

etween

uccessive

equences.

As

in

the

novel,

Steerforth

alls

David

"Daisy";

but

Rosa

Dartle

adds that he

is a

venomous

flower.

This

foreshadows

David's

unwitting

rchestration

f

the seduction

f Little

mily.

While

the

organization

f

the

play

roughly

ollows he

novel's,

he

play

condenses

the

final

wo-thirds

f the narrative

nto ts

second

half. The

first

oncentrates

n

David's

childhood,

ncluding

is

birth nd

joyous

infancy,

he terrors

f

the Salem

House boarding chool,his ntroductiono theMicawbers, nd his rescuebyAunt

Betsey.

The second

half,

whichfocuses

n his

adolescence,

begins

withDavid's en-

trance

o

Dr.

Strong's

chool and continues

withhis encounter

withthe

Heeps,

his

reunion

with

Steerforth,

teerforth's

capturing"

f Little

Emily,

David's

marriage

with

Dora,

and

his confession

f love

to

Agnes.

The

play

ends

with

David,

the

19

Mattieu

Galey

n

Le

Quotidien

de Paris

November

977),

as cited

n

the

unpublished

ress

dossier

f

David

Copperfield.

20

Information

n the

improvisations

f

David

Copperfield

re

from

a

personal

interview

with

Christine

oucher

f the

Campagnol,

June

979

in Paris.

21

Charles

Dickens,

David

Copperfield

London:

Penguin,

966),

p.

249.

The

Campagnol-Soleil

sed

thePliade edition fDavid

Copperfield

Trans.Pierre eyris,MadeleineRossel,AndreParreaux tal.,

Editions

Gallimard,

954)

as well

as the

English

riginal

or

their

daptation.

22

Dickens,

p.

937.




18/23

447

/ FROM

NOVEL

TO

THEATRE

writer,

aking

p

thenarrative

rom he

beginning

f thenovel:

"Whethershall

turn

out to be thehero

of

my

own

life,

r whetherhat tation

will be held

by

anybody

else, thesepagesmust how."23

The

play

both excludes

the

novel's social

satire

of

solicitors,

arristers,

nd

the

English

ourt

ystem

nd its

oncluding

pisodes

of the

major

ubplots

f

Little mi-

ly

and the

Peggottys,

he

Micawbers,

nd

Uriah

Heep.

It also

omits

he

omplexities

of the

Steerforth-David

elationship

nd never

posits

the

dichotomy

f

Steerforth-

Agnes.

The

adaptation,

however,

particularly

n

the scenic

writing,

oes

reinforce

the

novel's

uggestion

f

thedubious

quality

f

the

parent-child

elationship.

riah,

for

example,

never

appears

on

stage

without

his mother.

Agnes sings

a

Victorian

song

called

"Daddy"

whose

words

promise:

I will

be

your

ittle

wife

n

Earth

while

Mommy's

n

the

sky."

The same

actress

performs

oth the roles of

Clara,

David's

child-mothernd Dora, David's child-bride.

These

changes,

specially

given

the

theatrical

otential

f

the

tying-up"

pisodes

at the

end

of the

novel,

would seem

arbitrary

fthe

goal

of

the

daptation

had

been

to

tellthe

story

f

David

Copperfield.

However,

theactors

never

ntended

o

tell

story

ut

rather

o

reconstruct

series

f

memories,

oth

as

David

experienced

hem

and

as

they xperienced

avid

experiencing

hem. ndeed

during

he entire

ear

of

rehearsals,

the actors

infused

their

improvisations

with their

own childhood

memories nd

private

eminiscences.

he

resultwas

a

recreation

ot

only

of

David's

past

but

also,

to a

certain

xtent,

heir wn.

The

many spects

of

memory

nform

he

conception

f the

playing

rea

as

well as

influencinghe lighting, ostumes,movement, nd music. Throughthephysical

elements

f

the

performance,

he

domainof

memory

ecomes

palpable.

The

playing

area,

cavernous and

dusty,

resembles

grandparent's

ttic

adaptações em teatro em frança

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