The Scorched Garden (NHB Modern Plays)

Juan Mayorga, Nick Drake

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781788502924
• Topic: Littérature
• Subtopic: Théâtre européen

A group of inmates has been locked up in a mental hospital since the Spanish Civil War. For forty years their only contact with the outside world has been with an elderly doctor. And then a young medical student arrives and unveils their histories and madness…

Juan Mayorga's play The Scorched Garden was first performed in this English translation by Nick Darke at the Royal Court Theatre, London, in 1997.

Prologue

Midnight. The port. Young BENET is observing the reflection of the moon in the water.

STATUE. You’re new to the Island.

Since he thought he was alone, BENET is surprised by the voice of the STATUE. The STATUE is of a man about to throw himself into the sea.

STATUE. I know everyone on the island. They all come by, sooner or later, to have a laugh at the old monster.

With the slow and painful movements of an old man, the STATUE gets down off his pedestal.

STATUE. No need to be afraid of my scar.

BENET. What scar?

STATUE. Look.

He points to his face near his lips. BENET still can’t see a scar. The STATUE goes to the water’s edge and points at the reflection of his face.

STATUE. See?

BENET. Just about.

STATUE. Don’t try to make me feel better. The man who did that to me will get what he deserves.

He looks into the water.

STATUE. If it wasn’t for the water, time would never seem to pass.

He touches his wrinkles.

But time passes.

He looks up towards the top of the hill.

It’ll soon be Doctor Garay’s birthday. Would you kindly give him my best wishes?

BENET. Do you know Garay?

STATUE. He once said to me: ‘You won’t survive even for one hour outside San Miguel’. Well I’ve shown him; I don’t need him.

He shows his cap, full of coins, at the foot of the pedestal.

I’m never going back to San Miguel.

He looks at his scar reflected in the water again.

I thought in time it would fade; I thought my wrinkles would hide it. But the only truth is in the waters of this port. They don’t lie: the scar grows deeper every day.

BENET. It’s not ugly. It makes you look like you‘re smiling.

STATUE. My smile frightens people.

The STATUE walks back to his pedestal.

BENET. How long did you live in San Miguel?

STATUE. How long? Strange you ask me that today of all days. I dreamed they poured all the ash from the garden into an hour-glass.

Wearily, he gets back onto his pedestal.

Don’t go into the garden with Garay.

BENET. Were you there during the war?

But the old man has turned back into a statue looking out to sea.

BENET. What’s your name? Can we talk more?

The STATUE doesn’t react. Silence.

If I buy you a hot meal, will you tell me about those times in San Miguel?

The STATUE doesn’t react. Silence.

Come down, you can’t spend the whole night up there. You’ll have to move soon, it’s turning cold.

The STATUE doesn’t react. Silence.

Nobody’s watching; you don’t have to be a statue if no-one’s watching.

When he realises this is hopeless, BENET moves away, somewhat frightened, keeping his eyes on the STATUE. Then he approaches again for the last time:

I’ll be back tomorrow.

Scene One

Midday. GARAY’s office. GARAY, an elderly man, receives BENET, and invites him to sit down. A large window gives onto a burned garden.

GARAY. To what do I owe the pleasure? Since you arrived, we’ve hardly had a moment to talk. Have you had enough rummaging around in the archives?

BENET. Let’s say I’ve allowed myself a few minutes off to wish you a happy birthday.

GARAY. Now how did you know . . .

BENET. I noticed the preparations for a party, I asked, and –

GARAY. Ah ha.

BENET. Have I spoiled the surprise?

GARAY. It was my boys’ idea. But birthdays always put me in a foul mood. How am I supposed to celebrate old age? Retirement draws closer like some horrible shadow. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself after that: dither about all day, nothing to do but dawdle along the coast path. Still, I know such things can be seen from a different point of view entirely: your generation is graduating now, full of fresh ideas, wanting to start everything over again, make it all new – including San Miguel – always supposing a young person actually wants to come and work here. I must say I’m surprised that you, with all your impressive qualifications, chose us for your practical.

BENET. Why?

GARAY. I suppose I attributed it to the island’s attractions; I thought perhaps you had come for a holiday after all that studying. However, those dusty archives haven’t left you time to set foot on the beach. And have you visited the city yet?

BENET. Recently I’ve been taking a late night stroll down to the port.

GARAY. Oh the port, there’s nothing down there.

He takes out two glasses and pours some wine.

Try this. With all due modesty, you won’t find better wine anywhere else on the island.

BENET. I came across an interesting character: a statue-man.

GARAY. A statue-man? Really.

BENET. Yes, according to him he lived here years ago.

GARAY. How interesting. What was his name?

BENET. Pink Budgie.

GARAY is surprised.

BENET. Must be a nickname.

GARAY. Indeed.

BENET. That’s all I know about him. When I tried to ask him more personal questions, he went as silent as a stone.

GARAY. An old patient, perhaps?

BENET. There’s no file on him in the archives. Could he have been a nurse? One of the cleaners?

GARAY (with a look of utter incredulity on his face). Pink Budgie? Perhaps it was a joke? The island’s full of jokers.

BENET. Anyway, he seems well looked-after. His cap is always full of coins.

GARAY. They pay him not to move. People are in such a hurry these days they’re fascinated by someone who simply stands still. So you’ve found the ugliest spot on the island; but you know the city is really quite pleasant. Wouldn’t you prefer to stay there? I’m worried this place isn’t comfortable enough for you. The cries of the boys at night –

BENET. There’s no place in the world I’d sleep better than here. The truth is I want to get to know San Miguel. Which is to say, I want to get to know you. Would you believe me if I said your fine example inspired my own vocation? Your ethical example, I mean.

GARAY makes a gesture to show he doesn’t want to listen to such praise.

BENET. Everyone speaks of you as if you were a saint.

GARAY. Everyone flatters me on my birthday.

BENET. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You live for them.

GARAY. I’m just a modest healer.

He changes the subject.

Do you need anything? Anything at all?

BENET. On the contrary. I’m in your debt. You’ve given me so much help with my work . . . Of course, I would have liked to deal personally with the patients, as was my original intention –

He doesn’t let GARAY interrupt.

Yes, I know you have your reasons for not granting me access.

GARAY. I’m so pleased you’ve finally understood my point of view. The boys live in a delicate but precious state of equilibrium, and I won’t risk that for anyone. So that’s the only reason I welcomed you a little cautiously perhaps. But you’ve been so respectful of our ways . . .

BENET. Well, in the end this is just a routine job at the end of my course. It’s not worth disturbing the patients for. It’s more a matter of making contact with the centre and, in practice, planning some strategies for the future. There are fresh breezes blowing through psychiatry too.

GARAY. The Dictatorship’s over, and suddenly the whole country wants to change from top to bottom. You know yourself my sympathies lie with the new government. But I’m worried that all this insecurity brings a dangerous turbulence with it too.

BENET. There’s nothing to be afraid of; everything will turn out for the best – and for San Miguel, too. I’d love to discuss with you some proposals I’m thinking about developing in my report.

He takes out a notebook.

I’m going to argue for some architectural alterations.

He sketches a plan of San Miguel.

The grass in the patio should be replanted, and the wall –

He points through the window to a wall –

What lies behind that wall around the patio?

GARAY. A view of the port.

BENET. I’ll suggest it’s knocked down.

GARAY. Open the garden?

BENET. I think it’s a priority. Together with a new gymnasium. The most suitable spot wo...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title page
• Contents
• Foreword
• Introduction
• Acknowledgements
• Original Production
• Characters
• The Scorched Garden
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information