Mies Julie
eBook - ePub

Mies Julie

Based on August Strindberg's Miss Julie

Yaël Farber, August Strindberg

  1. 64 pages
  2. English
  3. ePUB (adapté aux mobiles)
  4. Disponible sur iOS et Android
eBook - ePub

Mies Julie

Based on August Strindberg's Miss Julie

Yaël Farber, August Strindberg

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À propos de ce livre

South African born internationally acclaimed director and playwright, YaĂ«l Farber, sets her explosive new adaptation of Strindberg's Miss Julie in the remote, bleak beauty of the Eastern Cape Karoo. Transposed to a post-apartheid kitchen – a single night, both brutal and tender, unfolds between a black farm-labourer, the daughter of his master and the woman who has raised them both. The visceral struggles of contemporary South Africa are laid bare, as John and Mies Julie spiral in a deadly battle over power, sexuality, mothers and memory. Haunting and violent, intimate and epic, the characters struggle to address issues of reprisal and the reality of what can and cannot ever be recovered. Mies Julie is the winner of a number of awards including, the Best Of Edinburgh Fringe Award, an Edinburgh Fringe First Award and an Edinburgh Herald Angel Award. In December 2012, Mies Julie was listed in the Guardian's top ten best theatre picks of 2012 and in the Top Ten Plays of 2012 by the New York Times.

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Informations

Éditeur
Oberon Books
Année
2016
ISBN
9781849437615

1.

Night. The heat is stifling.
CHRISTINE is on all fours, scrubbing the stone floor. She is sweating profusely. She sings a circular phrase – a soft atonal moan from a church spiritual. She periodically scrapes an enamel bucket along the floor so that it remains by her side as she cleans. JULIE enters and walks circles – aching with boredom and loneliness. She sits at the table, her feet up. She rises and walks across the floor – leaving footprints. CHRISTINE follows behind and erases them without a change of expression. JULIE disappears into the night. JOHN stands at the door, watching his mother, who continues her work unawares. He has a large ‘throw’ about his neck and shoulders.
JOHN: (Watching where she left.) She’s mad again tonight, ma. Bewitched.
Looking out across the night sky.
It’s a dark night. Where’s this moon? Supposed to be full.
CHRISTINE: The swallows are flying low. We’ll have rain after midnight – when this heat breaks.
JOHN: (To himself.) Ja1... Dangerous. Coming to our party like that.
CHRISTINE: Poor baby. She’s been wild since Baas2 Jan broke off the engagement.
CHRISTINE goes to the stove and brings JOHN a plate of food. They bow their heads and pray.
JOHN: Salt?
CHRISTINE: Hayi kaloku!3 Taste first.
He tastes and indicates for the salt. She hands it to him with playful annoyance. He adds generously. She snatches it away. He moves to his bench, and sits. He eats.
Indicating a chair at the kitchen table.
You can sit to eat. Meneer4 is away.
He glances about – then moves to the table, sits and eats.
CHRISTINE is peeling potatoes now.
JOHN: (Looking towards the stove.) What’s that stink?
CHRISTINE: It’s for Julie’s dog, Diana.
JOHN: You have to cook for her dog now too?
CHRISTINE: She’s pregnant. Miesie5 wants me to take care of it. The bitch was in heat last month and all the pedigree dogs from around here wanted her.
JOHN: I heard them howling. I thought it was just the moon.
CHRISTINE: But our Swartkop got her. Klein Mies6 was furious. She says the dog betrayed her. (Stirring the foul fluid.) She asked me to prepare something that will kill the puppies in the womb.
JOHN: (To himself.) Mies Julie... She’s dancing wild out there with our boys – but she won’t let her bitch touch ours. She’s like all white women. Too proud. But not proud enough. Maybe she’ll blow her brains out – like her mama.
CHRISTINE: Haai!7 I don’t want such talk in my kitchen. I want you to go get her and bring her back here.
JOHN: I’m still eating, ma.
CHRISTINE folds her arms and stares at her son.
The new boys were asking how come you can you cook for me in here – and they’re out there with no electricity or water.
CHRISTINE: This is my kitchen. They will never understand how things work around here. They come to Veenen Plaas8 and want to take what we’ve been working for all our lives.
JOHN: When winter comes – our children will freeze. Meneer refuses to turn the heat and water back on until we chase the squatters away. It’s a brutal way. Punishing us to get them off the land.
CHRISTINE: They must build their shacks somewhere else. Meneer doesn’t want them living here.
JOHN: He’s a hard boer9. By law they have the right to live here – if their parents did. A storm is coming to this farm. The workers are celebrating Freedom tonight, but there is anger on the wind out there.
CHRISTINE: This is Meneer’s land. He decides. Finished and klaar10.
JULIE enters the kitchen. JOHN stands immediately – caught in the forbidden act of sitting at the family table. But JULIE paces, preoccupied. JOHN finishes eating on his feet, and then goes to his bench to polish the Meneer’s boots. CHRISTINE stirs the concoction at the stove. Mother and son surreptitiously watch JULIE , who is unaware of their gaze.
CHRISTINE: Rain coming tonight Miesie. I can smell it. The ants are moving faster. The clouds gathering low.
JULIE doesn’t respond. She lies back, full length, on the kitchen table.
I’ll go give this to Diana. It won’t be easy on her. The pregnancy’s too far already.
But I’ll do my best.
She strokes JULIE’s hair and then goes out, looking for the dog.
JOHN removes the ‘throw’ from his shoulders and drops it to the floor. He begins polishing the Meneer’s boots. Nothing for sometime but JULIE – who rises and paces – and John working at the boots. JULIE is restless, preoccupied, wanting. JOHN watches her when she cannot see him.
When she can, he is inscrutable in servitude.
JULIE: I was looking for you.
JOHN: (Stands.) Do you need me, mies?
JULIE: Come back to the party and dance.
JOHN: Don’t go back there looking for trouble, mies.
JULIE: Niemand sal aan my raak nie.11 My pa will shoot the black man in the head that puts his hands on me. Then he’ll shoot me. Told me that once when I was little. That was my bedtime ...

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