The Great God Pan

Amy Herzog

• Publisher: Theatre Communications Group
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781559367530
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: American Drama
• Index: Literature

" The Great God Pan is a haunting, deeply affecting play about the interaction of identity, psychology and pathology. Ms. Herzog writes with keen sensitivity to the complex weave of feelings embedded in all human relationships, with particular attention to the way we tiptoe around areas of radioactive emotion." - New York Times "Whatever the ideal contemporary American drama is, it has to look a lot like The Great God Pan. It is provocative and subtle, slowly, carefully revelatory, sweetly moving, thought-provoking, funny and insightful." - New York Observer "An intelligent, delicately articulate writer." - Village Voice "A moving and unsettling look at the nature of identity and the vagaries of memory. With subtlety and compassion, Herzog contemplates how well we can really know ourselves." - Backstage Jamie's life in Brooklyn seems just fine: a beautiful girlfriend, a burgeoning journalism career, and parents who live just far enough away. But when a possible childhood trauma comes to light, lives are thrown into a tailspin. Unsettling and deeply compassionate, The Great God Pan tells the intimate tale of what is lost and won when a hidden truth is suddenly revealed. Amy Herzog 's plays include 4000 Miles (Pulitzer Prize finalist), After the Revolution and Belleville. Ms. Herzog is the recipient of numerous awards, including the Whiting Writers' Award, an Obie Award and the Helen Merrill Award for Aspiring Playwrights.

Scene Three

Jamie’s parents’ house in New Jersey. Cathy is offstage.

CATHY (Offstage): That’s great!

JAMIE: I don’t know if it’s great, it’s something.

CATHY (Offstage): Is it health insurance?

(She enters, smiling broadly, with two cups of tea.)

JAMIE: No. Sadly no, no health insurance.

CATHY (Sympathetically): Oh.

JAMIE: Virtually none of these jobs come with health insurance.

CATHY: I know, honey, it’s absolutely criminal. This is the kind of tea your father calls “sweepings from the forest floor,” but I like it. It has . . . I forget what it has in it, but there are health benefits. Memory, maybe?

JAMIE: Ginkgo biloba?

CATHY: No, I take that in a pill, I don’t think they’ve figured out how to put it in tea yet. Go on, about the job.

JAMIE: That’s pretty much it, it’s a regular column, and I’ll get to contribute to some editorial decisions.

CATHY: So you’ll be able to stop copyediting?

JAMIE (Brief pause): Well no, not completely.

CATHY: Oh honey, I’m asking all the wrong questions. Just ignore me, say what you were saying.

JAMIE: That’s it, I’ve told you everything.

CATHY: Well the most important thing is being excited about your colleagues.

JAMIE: They’re awesome, I’m in great company.

CATHY: I’m going to look it up online as soon as you go and I’ll email you something very intelligent to make up for all my gaffes.

JAMIE: It’s fine, don’t worry about it.

CATHY: It’s just that you’re such a talented writer, and so much of what I read—the New York Times, for crying out loud—

JAMIE: I know.

CATHY: That piece you wrote about the Sudanese family in Queens, I’m still hearing about it, from friends who say it’s just stayed with them. You remember Josie Weltman?

JAMIE: Um . . .

CATHY: She’s married to Anton in Dad’s department—anyway, she thought it was just incredible and she’s a writer herself. I thought it was a shame that it wasn’t published somewhere more people would see it.

JAMIE: It’s okay, Mom, I’m doing okay.

CATHY: I know. How’s Paige?

JAMIE: She’s fine.

CATHY: How’s Rufus?

(Brief pause.)

JAMIE: What?

CATHY: How’s Rufus?

JAMIE: Mom. Rufus died.

CATHY: . . . What?

JAMIE: Did I not tell you that?

CATHY: When?

JAMIE: Like . . . six months ago?

CATHY: Six months ago?

JAMIE: Are you sure I didn’t tell you that?

CATHY: What happened?

JAMIE: We’re not sure, we think he ate poison. It happened pretty fast.

CATHY: Oh Rufus!

JAMIE: How is it possible I didn’t tell you that?

CATHY: I don’t know, I’m furious at you, frankly.

JAMIE: Sorry.

CATHY: It’s not like we haven’t talked.

JAMIE: No, I guess you didn’t ask / and I—

CATHY: Well am I supposed to ask every time we talk, how is Rufus, is he dead? I trust you to tell me these things.

JAMIE: I’m really sorry, Mom.

CATHY: He was the last of a long line.

JAMIE: I know. He was a good little guy.

CATHY: He was.

(They both remember Rufus.)

So what made you come out here? Not that I’m not delighted, I am. It’s only an hour but we never see you.

JAMIE: You guys could ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Production History
• Characters
• Scene One
• Scene Two
• Scene Three
• Scene Four
• Scene Five
• Scene Six
• Scene Seven
• Scene Eight
• Scene Nine
• Scene Ten
• About the Author