These Were the Hours

NANCY

Nancy Cunard, British author, publisher, activist

BILL

Bill Bird, American publisher and writer

ARAGON

Louis Aragon, French writer

GEORGETTE

Georgette Goasgüen, a Normandy neighbour

LÉVY

Typesetter, printer at the Hours Press

MCALMON

Robert McAlmon, American writer and publisher

HEMINGWAY

Ernest Hemingway, American writer

EZRA

Ezra Pound, American writer

NORVALE

Edouard Norvale, French police officer (fictional)

MAYOR

of la Chapelle-Réanville

HENRY

Henry Crowder, American musician

PABLO

Pablo Neruda, Chilean poet and activist

DELIVERYMAN
1 and 2

Men who deliver piano to Nancy’s house in France

REPORTER
1, 2, and 3

American newspaper men in New York

WAITER

At café in Havana pre-recorded voice

MALE AMERICAN

Threatens Cunard in New York by phone

Note on actors: It is suggested that actors with smaller parts play multiple roles – with costume changes and some voice alteration – in the following ways: the actor playing BILL also plays the voice of the MALE AMERICAN; MCALMON, HEMINGWAY, and EZRA also play REPORTER 1, 2, and 3; NORVALE and PABLO also play the DELIVERY MAN 1 and 2. Additional character multiplications can be made if production requires a smaller cast.

Note on character names: Character names (i.e. first or last) have been assigned according to how Cunard most often refers to these people in her writing or as she was known to call them.

ACT I

Scene 1. Le Puits Carré, Normandy, 1928.

The barn of the old farmhouse is gradually

being turned into a press. There is a desk and

shelving and a space for the press as well as books

and several boxes partially unpacked. The Eugene

McCown1 painting of NANCY sits on top of a

bookshelf S.R. There are a few pieces of African

sculpture on the shelves and on top of the boxes.

BILL2 and ARAGON3 push the bulky Mathieu

press4 onto the stage. NANCY follows.

NANCY

Almost there! Push!

BILL

It was a mistake –

NANCY

Now over against the wall.

ARAGON

I’ll never make it –

NANCY

Come on!

BILL

– always a mistake to leave Paris.

NANCY

Now, really –

ARAGON

To survive the Germans only to die by Belgian printing press –

NANCY

Bill, watch out for the – !

BILL trips on a box of books.

BILL

Uh!

ARAGON

(Huffing) Somewhere in the world, it’s cocktail hour in Montmartre.

BILL

Ow.

ARAGON

Right now, Dalí5 is drinking champagne out of a woman’s shoe –

NANCY

Aragon, push.

ARAGON

Breton6 is breathing absurdities into the ear of an incipient muse –

NANCY

Now over to left –

BILL

Always the left!

ARAGON

And I have become a siren’s captive.

NANCY steps in and lends a hand.

The press slides into place C.S.

NANCY

(Brushing her hands against her skirt) Well done, boys!

ARAGON

And so I return to my role as effete avant-gardist.

ARAGON leans against the press for a

moment, then turns to one of the boxes.

BILL

Here with Nancy the slave-driver?

ARAGON

All in the past, she tells me! (Pulling a bottle of cognac out of the box) The press is to be a communist utopia.

ARAGON pulls three glasses out of the

box and pours the cognac.

BILL

Never trust the wealthy.

ARAGON

Yes, quite right. Eat the rich. Ask questions later. (Makes as if to take a bite of NANCY’s arm)

NANCY

Bill, you are absolutely sure you are willing to part with press?

ARAGON passes glasses to NANCY and BILL.

ARAGON

A bit late.

BILL

Three Mountains is done, Nancy. What are your plans for the old boy?

NANCY

Mainly contemporary poetry of an experimental kind – always very modern things, short pieces of fine quality that might have difficulty in finding commercial publishers willing to take a chance on them.7

BILL

You’ll never make any money on just poetry.

ARAGON

What’s money when you’re a Cunard?

NANCY

Mother is not pleased with this new venture.8

ARAGON

She’ll come round.

NANCY

Don’t count on it. We’ll have to be practical. At least, by way of compromise, everything produced should be contemporary.9 George Moore10 has promised us something. And Richard.11 There is the possibility of running a contest –

BILL

Got a name yet?

NANCY

The Hours Press. The Hours. For the hours that go into writing a book.

ARAGON

Or the hours drinking, while you’re thinking about your book. (Looking at Nancy) Or –

NANCY

(Firmly) The Hours.

BILL

(Picking up one of the African statues) Settling in, I see.

NANCY

Mmmmm … yes. We’ve been scouring antiquities markets in Marseille. Aragon thinks we’ll find the fetish that will open up another sphere of consciousness.

ARAGON

And for the price Nancy paid, the vendor thought he would open another realm of credit.

NANCY

Now you laugh. You should have heard how enraptured he was when we bought her, Bill. “Those smooth curves and almond eyes that drew me into a primal land of desert mirage …”

ARAGON

Did I say that? That’s quite good. (Looks around for something to write with)

BILL

Well, I wish you both a lot of luck. Not sure why you chose the wilds of Normandy over Paris, but it’s a nice place as far as backwaters go.

NANCY

It’s a wonderful place, Bill. I’ve called the house Le Puits Carré – the Square Well. There’s a lovely couple next door, Jean and Georgette.12 We’ve met most of the neighbours, actually. They have the French spirit of equality minted on their souls.

ARAGON

More like provincial conservatism branded on their stomachs –

NANCY

No, no, Louis. You misunderstand them. It’s just the place for a press. And it’s not as though we’ve given up on Paris –

BILL

God forbid. (Looking at the McCown) There wouldn’t be any new paintings if you weren’t there to inspire them.

NANCY

(Kissing BILL on the cheek) You’ve been awfully good, Bill. Thank you for bringing the Mathieu.

BILL

Bonne chance, Nancy. Louis –

BILL turns to ARAGON. They shake hands.

ARAGON

Don’t forget me in my indentured state –

NANCY

(Dryly) What was that book you wrote on French wines, Bill?13

BILL

I’m well out of it. I’ll bring Hem and Bob and Ezra ’round another time. They’ll want to see – (BILL looks around the barn) well, they should see this.

Exit BILL S.L.

NANCY

And so it begins! (Taking a printer’s apron off a peg on the wall) Should we print something?

ARAGON

Écoutes, Nan – Now that Bill’s gone –

NANCY

(Putting on the printer’s apron) Look at this! I’ll admit the life of a printer is something of a divorce from my former self. What would Iris14 say? A far cry from the society balls we grew up with, the gallivanting around London – even Paris and its rollicking avant-gardism.15

NANCY drags a case of type over to the press.

NANCY

Of course, we have the support of most of our friends. But not Leonard and Virginia! Can you believe it with Hogarth steadily growing in importance!16 But no – they are somewhat otherwise. “Your hands will always be covered with ink!”17

ARAGON

Nan –

NANCY

Come on, Aragon. (Smelling a pot of the printer’s ink) Look at this beautiful freshness of the glistening pigment! There is no other black or red like it!18

ARAGON

(Taking NANCY’s hands) Nancy –

NANCY

Paris is fine with all of the dancing and cafés and painting and poetry. But I feel like the press is my chance to do something.

ARAGON

Your chance?

NANCY

Ours, of course.

ARAGON

Just ours? Just us?

NANCY looks at ARAGON.

NANCY

(Lightly) If I were a man, you wouldn’t ask me that.

ARAGON

If you were a man, it’s unlikely I’d be here at all.

NANCY

In the end, all you avant-gardists want an unconventional life with a conventional wife.

ARAGON

Come on, Nan – nothing bourgeois. But I’ve left Paris to do this and I want to feel like we’re in this together.

NANCY

Of course we’re in it together! We are going to print the most marvellous experimental work. Nothing commercial. All sprung from the imagination. The engine of a revolution!

ARAGON looks unconvinced.

NANCY

Look, Aragon, this – you, Le Puits Carré, the press, the good people, and the French countryside – it’s an ideal. How many people get that chance? All we have to do is maintain it.

ARAGON

Bien. That’s all I’m asking. Conventional love?

ARAGON jumps on a chair and recites.

ARAGON

Let us spit if you want

On what we have loved together

Let us spit on love

On our unmade beds

On our silence and on the stammered words

On the stars even if they were

GEORGETTE enters S.L.

GEORGETTE

Allo?

NANCY

Georgette! (To ARAGON, affectionately) Come down from there, you fool.

ARAGON jumps down from the chair and

addresses NANCY and GEORGETTE in a

loud, grand manner.

ARAGON

Your eyes

On the sun even if it were

NANCY

Aragon, enough!

ARAGON

Your teeth

On eternity even if it were your mouth

ARAGON sings the last lines.

And on our love

Even if it were your love

Let us …19

(Jumping down) I am underappreciated outside of Paris.

NANCY

Georgette, I apologize for the surrealist serenade.

ARAGON

Never apologize!

GEORGETTE

Non, non. Madame Cunard –

NANCY

Nancy, please.

GEORGETTE

I am sorry, Nancy. I did not mean to interrupt your – er – to interrupt you and Monsieur Aragon. I just wanted to – to invite you to dinner at the house this Friday with some friends.

NANCY

That would be lovely.

ARAGON

Wonderful! All poetry lovers, I assume?

NANCY

Never mind. We’ll see you Friday.

GEORGETTE

Around seven, perhaps?

NANCY

Yes, of course. Thank you so much.

GEORGETTE

Bien. À tout à l’heure.

GEORGETTE exits S.L.

NANCY

(To ARAGON) Were you trying to frighten her off? She’s a very nice woman. And you so cynical about the neighbours.

ARAGON

Yes, very nice, very nice. I’ll be sure to stay awake through the soup course until the conversation turns to breeding nice white children and tending gardens.

NANCY

Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll fit in just fine.

ARAGON

It’s almost touching that you think so. Perhaps you could print some nice floral stationery upon which to write your invitations to the church picnic.

NANCY

It will so be nice, very nice, you’ll see. But we should print something. A letter –

ARAGON

A letter? To whom?

NANCY

Lévy!

ARAGON

Who?

NANCY

Bill’s printer. He’s coming next week to teach us. Surely we can figure out the basics ahead of that.

NANCY sets some type. ARAGON unpacks.

ARAGON

(Rifling in a box) It’s so quiet here. In Paris someone’s always yelling insults outside your window. (Pulls out a stuffed bird with yellow feathers; examines it; sets it aside) There is the wretched sound of the city’s renovation. (Pulls out a bottle and a tennis ball and begins to make an arrangement on the desk) Drunken prostitutes scream at each other in the streets. It’s very soothing.

NANCY pulls a sheet off the press and hands

it to ARAGON.

NANCY

There!

ARAGON

(Reading the print) RIS RAED …?

NANCY

Damnit! It’s backwards.

Nancy sets the type again. ARAGON pulls

some photographs out of the box and looks

at them. One of the Man Ray photographs

is projected onstage.

ARAGON

Man Ray should photograph you like this. (Compares the photos with NANCY) No, really, you look much wilder now, in a dishevelled, I-just-pushed-my-printing-press-across-a-barn sort of way. He’d love it. You know how he goes crazy for anything in its primal state.

NANCY

I’ve been told success is staying ahead of one’s image. Now if I could only –

The letter appears on the screen, replacing the picture.

Dear Sir,

I believe that it’s next Saturday that you will be coming. As you can see we have started to print …20

NANCY

Ha!

ARAGON

Ha? Is that the language of idealism?

NANCY

(Kissing him) Indeed, it is.

Scene 2. Le Puits Carré the next week.

ARAGON works at the Mathieu. NANCY

stands nearby. LÉVY21 paces in front.

LÉVY

Madame Cunard. I feel obliged to tell you again: In France, one can’t be a printer unless one has worked a long time.

NANCY

Really, Monsieur Lévy. How long?

LÉVY

Seven years.

NANCY

Oh! And what is all that stretch filled with?

LÉVY

Well, first of all you are made to sweep the floor and pick up fallen type and pieces. You’re only a lad, they shouldn’t let you get your hands on composing. You keep the place tidy, run errands, and so on. Then, little by little, you’re permitted to learn to set type, and all the rest comes later. It depends –

NANCY

Depends on?

LÉVY

On your intelligence! It’s a lengthy job.

NANCY

Thank goodness there’s none of that here, Monsieur Lévy! We are going to forge ahead. My intention is to learn from you everything I possibly can as quickly as may be, so as to be able to work without you as well as with you, do you see? I like this beginning very much.

LÉVY

And then, you and Monsieur Aragon are about to fly in the face of accepted conventions and long-established rules, all of them! (Picking up a stack of papers and examining the top one) This projected layout of yours is not at all in conformity with –

NANCY

(Interrupting) Monsieur Lévy, consider this an experimental place whenever you are going to think of conventional rules. Taste, Monsieur Lévy, taste! Not so often does one find it in purely commercial printing. I want innovations! A new vision, no matter how nonconformist!22

LÉVY

Madame Cunard, you know, I myself am an ex-anarchist!

NANCY

Really, Monsieur Lévy? How interesting.

LÉVY

Bien sûr. I was a member in good standing of the Fédération anarchiste Communiste.23 I shook Louis Lecoin’s24 hand myself. A good man – a former proofreader at a printing press. Do you know what was the problem with the Fédération?

NANCY

No.

LÉVY

Individualists!

NANCY

Individualists?

LÉVY

Oui. A radical group, intent on following their own path, no matter what the cost.

NANCY

Monsieur Lévy, I don’t –

LÉVY

What I am saying, Madame Cunard, is that the slope is – how do you say? Sloppery. It is a sloppery slope. One minute, you are experimenting with typography “just for the nice look of things” as you say. The next you are shooting out of the side of an automobile with the Bonnot Gang.25 You understand?

NANCY

Only in the most peripheral of ways, Monsieur Lévy. At the same time, I must insist on the experimental imperative of the Press. Your job is to assist, Monsieur Lévy, and assist you must.

LÉVY

Assist? I? In the destruction of the great traditions of French typography? Non. I must refuse.

NANCY

You will be very helpful to us, Monsieur Lévy. What of a 10 per cent increase in salary?

LÉVY

Still, I must refuse. At least until after lunch. Principles are at stake, Madame Cunard.

NANCY

Yes, I do understand. Until after lunch, then.

LÉVY nods stiffly and departs. ARAGON laughs.

NANCY returns to her ledger.

NANCY

It’s nothing to laugh about.

ARAGON

You do your industrialist heritage proud in these moments, ma chère. Profits up? Distribution sound?

NANCY

As it happens, there is a great deal to be said about doing things oneself, by one’s system.26

ARAGON

Not all systems represent the surrender of the soul.

NANCY

Why do I feel a recitation of Das Kapital27 coming on?

ARAGON

It’s a point, Nan. We have the press. We could do something more radical.

NANCY

We’ll be liberating imaginations. Surely that’s enough?

ARAGON

I used to think so – I used to think the imagination unbounded would be enough to free people from their capitalist stupor, the chains they love so much.

NANCY

And now?

ARAGON

It feels as though we’ll need to fight harder than that. As though ideas without action won’t be enough –

NANCY

What do you propose? Marching in the streets?

ARAGON

Perhaps. For a start.

NANCY

Come on, Aragon. We’re intellectuals, not radicals. There’s a difference.

ARAGON

It’s easy for you to say.

NANCY

No, it’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who will have her face splashed across the tabloids of London.

ARAGON

Yes, the burdens of fame and wealth while the underclass starve in happy misfortune.

NANCY

Louis – (sighs)

ARAGON exits S.L. NANCY looks after him

for a beat, then, hearing some noise outside,

smooths her hair and skirt. There is a knock

and then BILL, HEMINGWAY,28 and MCALMON29

enter S.R. HEMINGWAY wears a bandage over

his forehead and one eye.

MCALMON

Allo? Allo? The animals have arrived for the barn party.

NANCY

Bob! Hem! Bill!

BILL

(Bringing up the rear) Sorry, Nancy. I couldn’t hold them back. There’s no glamour in Paris without you. The lights of the Champs-Élysées have all gone out. The Seine is grey. Montmartre in mourning. So we all got in Hem’s car and came out to see you. Where’s Louis?

NANCY

In the house. He’ll be out later.

HEMINGWAY

They told me we were going to the track.

MCALMON

We’ve brought one bird and one bull as you can see –

HEMINGWAY

And one Nancy-boy for her Ladyship.

BILL

Come now, Hem. We’re all Nancy’s boys.

NANCY

Where’s Ezra?30 Surely he’s with you?

BILL

He’s got some papers in the trunk.

BILL begins tinkering with the press.

MCALMON

Is there cognac, Nan?

NANCY

Yes, on the shelf there, Bob. You pour. (To HEMINGWAY) Good Lord, Hem. What happened to you? Did you hurt yourself boxing?

HEMINGWAY

Something like that.

MCALMON

Don’t listen to him. He was wrestling with the skylight in his bathroom. The skylight won.

HEMINGWAY

Have you ever tried a real fight, Bob?

MCALMON

Try not to caricature yourself, Ernest. Others do it so well already.

BILL

Now, boys –

HEMINGWAY

No, I mean it. (Looking around) It’s a good space for it.

NANCY

What about your book, Hem?

HEMINGWAY

One sentence after the next. You know how it goes. You writing much?

NANCY

Mostly we’re up to our ears with the publishing. But I love it. The smell of the ink … everything –

MCALMON hands NANCY a glass of cognac.

MCALMON

Lady Brett31

HEMINGWAY

For the love of God, McAlmon. Would you dry up?

MCALMON

(Handing a glass to HEMINGWAY) I would. But left in your company Nancy might die a slow death of short sentences and inarticulate masculinity. Whad’ya think, Nan? Is it a fatal case?

HEMINGWAY

I could show you –

MCALMON

(Takes a large swig of cognac, then in falsetto) But first you have to catch me –

MCALMON makes a run for the door

followed by HEMINGWAY. They nearly run

into EZRA, who is on the way in. BILL sighs

and follows MCALMON and HEMINGWAY out.

EZRA watches the men go, then turns to NANCY.

EZRA

Nancy!

NANCY

Hello, Ezra. It seems you’ve cleared the room. Or I have. What have you got for me, there?

EZRA

A manuscript. And free advice, free advice.

NANCY

Do I need to ask?

EZRA

Wouldn’t much matter and it’s all the same anyhow. I’ve been rereading your Parallax.32 It’s good stuff. (Opening the book) This one:

In Aix what’s remembered of Cézanne?

A house to let (with studio) in a garden.

Meanwhile “help yourself to these ripe figs, profitez,

And if it doesn’t suit, we Agence Sextus, will find you

another just as good.”

The years are sewn together with thread of the same story …33

All image. Just right. But some of this other work you’ve sent me – this one – Why the devil do you write in that obsolete dialect and with the cadences of the late Alfred Tennyson.34 It is damned hard to get the order of words in a poem as simple and natural as that of speech. Iambic pentameter is a snare because it constantly lets one in for dead phrases like “in the midnight hour.” Damn it all, midnight is midnight, it is not “this midnight hour.” Also you twist the tense for the sake of rhyme. And lots, lots of words that do not add anything to the presentation, but tell the reader nothing he wouldn’t know if you had left them out!35

NANCY

Is that all?

EZRA

No. As a reward for listening, I offer you the gift of XXX Cantos – or at least, the first drafts of them. Turn to the part on Venice. I’ve marked it for you –

NANCY

And at night they sang in the gondolas

And in the barche with lanthorns;

The prows rose silver on silver

taking light in the darkness36

Well, that’s beautiful, Ezra. You write beautifully. But it’s been a long time since we were in Venice.

EZRA

Eternal is the city of the doges.

NANCY

I’ll tell you what. Let us print these for you, when this batch is done. We’ll do two hundred copies in stout beige linen boards with the title stamped in red. And ten special copies in vermilion leather, with the same lettering.

EZRA

It’s good work you’re doing here, Nancy. There’s no use writing anything modern and experimental if no one will print it.

BILL pops his head in.

BILL

Nancy – the boys need distraction out here. Can they juggle your bangles or what?

NANCY

There’s a place in town. Let’s go out. I’ll get Aragon. He’s down about the state of the world.

EZRA

There’s no getting out of the state of the world. It’s a damned mess.

NANCY

Is that what you think, too, Ezra?

EZRA

Is there any doubting it?

NANCY

So what’s to be done?

EZRA

Drinks and verse, obviously.

NANCY

And?

EZRA

Acorns into oak. Something strong and resilient out of all of this softness and blather.

NANCY

(Lightly) Well, that’s one advantage of country living. Acorns everywhere. Aragon? Louis! Come on – we’re going out!

Scene 3. Next morning. ARAGON works at

the press, a black smudge on his cheek. NANCY

enters S.R., moving slowly. ARAGON does not look up.

NANCY

Is that the Snark37 cover you’re working on?38

ARAGON does not respond.

NANCY

You know Lévy doesn’t understand Caroll39 at all. He thinks the Jabberwocky is an English monarch.

NANCY comes around behind ARAGON

and puts her arms around his shoulders.

NANCY

Do you know I think Bob and Ezra and Hem must be sleeping in Hem’s car –

ARAGON shrugs off NANCY’s embrace and

examines the print that has come through.

NANCY

(Stepping back) Come now, it was no worse than a surrealist soirée.

ARAGON

Do you know you shattered an entire table full of glasses?

NANCY

It was just a night out, Louis.

ARAGON

Is that what the waiter thought, too?

NANCY

Don’t be petty. It’s the morning and there’s lots of work to do. And you with ink on your face already –

NANCY wipes his face with her fingers

and realizes the mark is a bruise.

NANCY

(Embarrassed) You shouldn’t confront me when I’m drinking –

ARAGON

When should I confront you, Nan? Not when you’re drinking. Not when you’re working. Not when you’ve run off with some two-bit waiter –

NANCY

That’s entirely enough. I want to go through these proofs and Lévy will be here any moment.

ARAGON

To hell with Lévy!

NANCY

Here he comes now. You can tell him yourself.

The MAYOR and NORVALE enter S.R.

NORVALE

Madame Nancy Cunard? We have a warrant for your arrest.

ARAGON stands.

ARAGON

Don’t be ridiculous. For what?

NORVALE

(Reading from the warrant) Disturbing the peace. Public drunkenness. Destruction of property.

ARAGON

Oh come, on. Half the pub was in on that –

MAYOR

But it speaks to incitement. Mademoiselle Cunard, I do not think we have properly met since you arrived here. I am Biveau, the mayor, and this is Norvale, with the local police.

NANCY

Monsieur Maire, I apologize for last night’s commotion. But I’m glad you’ve come. I feel the work of the press could be an important part of La Chapelle Réanville and its cultural work more generally.

MAYOR

Yes, I have been wanting to speak with you about the press.

NANCY

Good. Then we are in agreement about its role here. As you may be aware, many of our books are in English, but we are also doing some important translations into French.

MAYOR

We have heard reports of the type of work that takes place here.

NANCY

Excellent. Then you’ll understand the crucial role a press has to play in advancing modern aesthetics –

MAYOR

Your printer may be skilled, Mademoiselle Cunard. But he is not discreet. The village pub has heard many stories of the exploits that take place here.

NANCY

I do not believe in gossip, sir –

MAYOR

Really? That is good to know when you are at the centre of so much of it. Now, what I would like to suggest is you keep a more traditional focus in mind.

NANCY

Traditional?

MAYOR

Perhaps the work of Edmond Rostand.40

ARAGON

We’ve done nothing wrong here.

MAYOR

But again, it speaks to incitement, doesn’t it? Modern ideas have a way of … spreading. (Picks up one of NANCY’s bangles from the bookshelf) A curious object. (Holding it up to the light) Wild negro art, I suppose.

NANCY

Monsieur Maire, you will put down my property.

MAYOR

(Looking speculatively at the bracelet and the mark on ARAGON’s face) Worn by a wild white negress, it would seem. (Returns the bracelet to the shelf) As a neighbourly gesture, Mademoiselle Cunard, we will call this a warning. (Nods to NORVALE and they move toward the door) Perhaps Monsieur Aragon will know my meaning and see that you heed it.

NORVALE and MAYOR exit S.L.

NANCY

Outrageous! Who knew the mayor of Réanville was a leader of the Jeunesses Patriotes?41

ARAGON

He’s not the only one. There’s a mood in France.

NANCY

Come on, Louis. You can’t honestly believe someone like that – such a bully – stands in for all the rest.

ARAGON

No. The rest are not as smart, though just as ruthless, in their way. You’ll be all right, Nan. You’ll find a way around him. You always do.

NANCY

What do you mean, I? We! Louis. Ours, remember? This is exactly your sort of fight.

ARAGON

No, Nan. The press is your stage.

ARAGON picks up a suitcase that is tucked in the corner.

NANCY

Louis –

ARAGON

And my exit was always an early one. Bonne chance, Nan.

Exit ARAGON.

Scene 4. Venice, 1928. The balcony S.R. has

been made to look like a Venetian terrace with

light reflecting off the water. NANCY steps out

on the balcony, smoking in an agitated manner.

Faintly, Eddie South and his Alabamians’42

“Two Guitars”43 is heard along with the sound

of club noise and voices.

NANCY

(Aggressively) And at night they sang in the gondolas.

The music and club noise grow louder.

Two shadows appear, dancing intensely to

the jazz music. When the music ends HENRY44

steps out on the balcony S.L., stretching his

arms and shoulders. NANCY watches him for a

moment, throws her cigarette in the canal, and exits.

Scene 5. Le Puits Carré 1928. Two DELIVERYMEN

push a piano onstage. There is a certain amount

of grunting and cursing in French.

DELIVERYMAN 1

Allo?

DELIVERYMAN 2

Laisse-le ici. Il n’y a personne.

DELIVERYMAN 1

Bonjour! Il y a quelqu’un?

DELIVERYMAN 2

Allons-y.

NANCY and HENRY appear S.R. NANCY is wearing

a housecoat. HENRY is shirtless.

DELIVERYMAN 2

Tiens! Ils ne sont pas de la même couleur!

DELIVERYMAN 1

Taber –

The two DELIVERYMEN run off S.L.

NANCY

Oh, good! The piano’s arrived.

HENRY looks out the window at the departing figures.

NANCY

Though why they brought it to the printery, I’m not sure. How will we ever get it in the house from here?

HENRY

Do you think they’re getting someone?

NANCY

No. I think they’ve dropped it and left. Quite inconvenient.

HENRY

I mean, do you think they’re telling someone?

NANCY

Who would they tell?

HENRY

The police. The town council. In the States there’d be a lynch mob around this house in less than ten minutes.

NANCY

Don’t be ridiculous, Henry. I can’t imagine there’s much that would shock the French. And Americans can’t be that naïve.

HENRY

Not naïve. Brutal.

NANCY

What?

HENRY

I once saw the body of a black man in Washington after he was found with a white woman. He was hanging from a tree and they’d cut off his … they’d cut him and put his parts in his own mouth.

NANCY

Surely the perpetrators were held accountable by the law –

HENRY

The perpetrators were the law.

NANCY

But that’s insane.

HENRY

No, Nancy. That’s America.

NANCY

Well, my mother’s American –

HENRY

Your mother’s white American. And rich. When you’re black and poor you see all kinds of things. I’ve seen a black man set on fire for trying to buy food for his family from the wrong store. I’ve seen a black woman whipped for spilling coffee on the rug of a white woman’s house. I’ve seen shacks burned down with black babies inside ’em.

NANCY

What did you do?

HENRY

I came here! You can almost forget about colour until something like those men walking in. Then bam! I’m right back in Georgia.

NANCY

But surely it could be changed –

HENRY

Be like trying to scoop up an ocean with a spoon.

NANCY

I simply can’t accept that, Henry. I can’t think about the world that way.

HENRY embraces NANCY.

HENRY

Then don’t think about it.

NANCY

Will you stay?

HENRY

Mmmm?

NANCY

Have I told you how glad I am that you’ve come to help me with the press? You must have been sick to death of night hours, of all the drinks sent to you at your piano, of the fatigue attendant on the adulation – first Venice, then Montmartre.45 Now you can play right here, for me.

HENRY

The piano’s a beaut, Nan. And the car. I never drove anything like that, so silvery and blue. I can’t believe that fellow smashed into us and marked up the side.

NANCY

That was his fault, Henry, not yours. Never mind about the car. They’ll fix it up or we’ll get another. Try the piano! Play something. Play “Rhapsody in Blue.”46

HENRY sits down at the keys and begins a

gentle version of “Rhapsody in Blue.”

NANCY stands beside HENRY, looking pensive.

HENRY stops playing.

HENRY

What is it?

NANCY

Nothing. You play very well.

HENRY

Nancy, I’ve been playing in clubs all across America and Europe – for years. I can tell when no one’s feeling the music.

NANCY

I just wondered if you could put a bit more of yourself into it.

HENRY

Myself?

NANCY

Yes … Couldn’t you play it in a way that’s more tribal?

HENRY

Tribal?

NANCY

You know – more African.

HENRY

It’s Gershwin.47

NANCY

I know it’s Gershwin. But it should be a reflection of you as well.

HENRY

I’ve just been telling you about life in America.

NANCY

But your soul is African, I can feel it. Just as I can feel my own. From the time I was a small girl I have felt some affinity … Brancusi48 once sculpted me as the white negress. Doesn’t that seem right to you?

HENRY

Honey, I don’t know about your soul, but I keep telling you – mine’s from Gainesville.

NANCY

Just play, Henry.

HENRY begins to play again, more rhythmically

this time. NANCY dances on her own.

She is quite graceful and very good.

HENRY

There we go!

NANCY takes down one of the African masks

off the shelf. First she dances with it as if with

a partner and then she puts it over her face.

HENRY

There’s a girl!

HENRY finishes playing with a flourish.

NANCY collapses on a stool, laughing, and

pushes the mask up on top of her head.

NANCY

I haven’t danced like that since – since Bricktop’s.49 But come on, I’ll show you how the press works. We’ve got a new Minerva50 in addition to the Mathieu. And we’ve received the most beautiful green marble paper for Aldington’s The Eaten Heart.

HENRY

Sounds fine.

NANCY

And I should get dressed properly. Monsieur Lévy will be here any moment.

There are footsteps at the door. NANCY

pulls the mask off her head.

NANCY

Oh, dear. There he is already.

There is a rap at the door. NANCY looks

puzzled and opens it. NORVALE enters.

HENRY

Sweet Jesus –

NANCY

Not you again.

NORVALE

Madame Cunard, I have a subpoena for a Monsieur Henri Crowder.

NANCY

Don’t be ridiculous. This is France.

NORVALE

Pardon?

NANCY

Let me ask you something. You were here before – months ago – with the mayor. Norvale, yes?

NORVALE

Oui, Madame.

NANCY

And now, suddenly, one must testify in court if one has spent the night?

NANCY snatches the subpoena from NORVALE.

NORVALE

Of course not. This is France. The courts would be overrun.

NANCY

Then why are you here?

NORVALE

It is about the accident with the car that took place in town last week.51

NANCY

But the officer at the scene said it was entirely the other man’s fault.

NORVALE

Euh – oui.

NANCY

And then?

NORVALE

And then the mayor reviewed the case and decided that perhaps things were not quite so simple as they appear.

NANCY

Perhaps not. And what do you think?

NORVALE

I?

NANCY

Yes, you’re of sound mind and judgment. Do you think the mayor’s actions are entirely impartial?

NORVALE

Well – there may be the small matter of Monsieur Crowder’s – er – tan. Monsieur Maire has been a little – anxious since he appeared.

NANCY

And does that seem just to you? Does that seem in keeping with the laws and institutions that are yours to safeguard?

NORVALE

They do not pay me to think much, Madame.

NANCY

I see.

NANCY sighs and takes some money out

of a pot on the shelf.

NANCY

Take this, Norvale. Have a pint at the pub with your lunch.

NORVALE

Thank you, Madame Cunard! It is a long day without some refreshment.

NANCY

Indeed, it is. Goodbye, Norvale.

NORVALE

Goodbye, Madame Cunard. (Looking over at HENRY) Euh – au revoir.

Exit NORVALE.

HENRY

Well, how about that. Why’n the hell you give him that money?

NANCY

He’s just the messenger, Henry. It’s not his fault.

HENRY

Half the trouble in the world is caused by messengers, Nancy.

NANCY

We’ll have to leave the work with Lévy today. Of all the outrageous things! We can go into Paris and see my solicitor about this court business. We can make a weekend out of it, at least.

HENRY

Fine. Seems as though you should drive, though.

NANCY

Quite the contrary! We won’t be intimidated. You drive. As it happens we can speed right past the mayor’s house on the way out of town –

NANCY snatches the keys off a hook on the wall

and runs off S.L., laughing. HENRY follows, chuckling.

HENRY

(Calling after her) Damn if you aren’t one crazy kind of girl.

Exit HENRY.

A black and white film montage plays, illustrating

Paris in the period of 1928–30, including clips of

clubs in Pigalle and film of Josephine Baker. The

film finishes with a photograph of NANCY and

HENRY walking arm in arm in Paris.

Scene 6. Le Puits Carré.52 NANCY works

at the press. HENRY stands behind her.

NANCY

Back-breaking as well as wrist-breaking is typesetting.53 So the thing I’ve learned is to use a stool, like this. (Nancy pulls a stool up to the press) Greasy black hands do not matter when one is at the proofing stage, but an immaculate touch is most important in handling the fair sheet when one has reached the pulling stage. This is part of the craft: to achieve impeccably clean things with fingers grease-laden – else there will be a distressing “printer’s thumb” in ink on the finished article.54 “It’s always twice as long as you think” is what I would say. However, the work can become quite engrossing, turning into fourteen or fifteen hours a day.55 Now, here, you try.

HENRY and NANCY change positions.

HENRY tries setting the type. NANCY watches

and makes a couple of corrections with her hands.

NANCY

Good. You’ve got it now.

NANCY puts her arms around HENRY’s neck.

The moment lasts a beat and then HENRY

fumbles some type.

HENRY

Son of a – ! Not easy, is it?

NANCY

No. But worth it. Wait until you hold the first bound volume of a new book. It’s tremendous to see it come into the world … Wait. Someone’s coming.

HENRY

As long as it’s not the police again.

NANCY

I think they would have had quite enough of us.

LÉVY enters S.L. He pauses, then, eyeing

HENRY warily, begins shuffling and working

around the printery. NANCY gives HENRY a

small smile and tilts her head indicating

“give us a minute.” HENRY quietly exits.

NANCY

Good day, Monsieur Lévy.

LÉVY grunts and continues working.

NANCY

You have noticed, the last while, that Henry has come to help with the press.

LÉVY grunts again.

NANCY

I cannot help but observe that you have not … warmed to him. But I must tell you, Monsieur Lévy, that Henry has been entirely helpful and inspiring. He has changed my thinking already, telling me the most amazing things about the life of the American negro … I begin to think Henry himself has become a great turning point in my own.

NANCY strokes a Kenyan hand-carved bust

that is sitting on one of the printing tables.56

(Turning back to LÉVY) And now, now, I begin to think about what could be done, what work could be published to show the negro cause in an entirely different light.

LÉVY

Hmmmph.

NANCY

Have you not long told me, Monsieur Lévy, that black is the most noble colour of ink? Could it not be the same with people?

LÉVY

Eh bien?

NANCY

Really, Monsieur Lévy, on the whole France is so enlightened where matters of race are concerned. Why, in Paris, whites and coloured people mix quite freely.

LÉVY

Ah! You think I have difficulties with Monsieur Crowder because he is negro?

NANCY

I entirely understand the prejudices one grows up with, Monsieur Lévy. But here at the Hours we must do what we can to change our perceptions.

LÉVY

You forget my sympathies, Madame Cunard. I am ex-anarchistecommuniste, still believing in the liberation of all people suffering oppression.

NANCY

But you dislike Henry?

LÉVY

Not because he is black. Because he is musician!

NANCY

A musician?

LÉVY

Yes, of course! First Monsieur Aragon, the surgeon-poet. Poetry all the time. Then Monsieur Crowder, jazz all the time. Piano day and night! I have no peace! These people are not skilled. Do they learn the lesson of printing over many years? Non! They come in and splatter ink all over the place. Monsieur Crowder, I have seen, blends different colours of ink together! What kind of monstrosity is that?

NANCY

Invention?

LÉVY

Sacrilege!

NANCY

(Stifling a smile) Bien, Monsieur Lévy. I will take up your concerns with Henry. In the meantime, I want you to know that your efforts are valued here. We have done very well, in our first eighteen months, Monsieur Lévy. Very well indeed. Good authors – in several cases very famous ones – hard work, luck, and ignorance of the usual complexities of publishing were certainly the three pillars of the Hours during its first year.57 But you have helped enormously.

LÉVY

Of course. It takes training! Hard work!

NANCY

Yes, of course. Which is why I am leaving you in charge when Henry and I go to England.

LÉVY

Eh? England? An abominable place.

NANCY

I tend to agree, Monsieur Lévy. Yet one must visit one’s family sometimes.

LÉVY

Of course. My own maman had six children and worked every day of her life as a washerwoman. Never too much love, only tenderness, God bless her soul.

NANCY

Yes, well, my mother isn’t like that, exactly. The situation is … well, never mind. The important thing is to keep the press going. Ezra Pound’s A Draft of XXX Cantos will be coming out as well as the long poem that won our poetry contest, Whoroscope by that nice young poet, Samuel Beckett.58

LÉVY

(Reading from a proof)

In the name of Bacon will you chicken me up that egg.

Shall I swallow cave-phantoms?59

Mon – what does it mean?! Why these chickens are in with the bacons and the eggs?

NANCY

Well, I suppose the point is that it doesn’t have to mean anything, precisely.

LÉVY

(Sighs) As long as the layout is just so –

NANCY

Yes, of course, Monsieur Lévy. I leave it in your capable hands.

LÉVY

While you are away, Madame Cunard?

NANCY

Yes, Monsieur Lévy?

LÉVY

My friend Norvale – the police officer, you know? He may come by time to time for some cider after working? His wife doesn’t like us at his house, you see. I am not sure she likes him at his house, in fact, and –

NANCY

Yes, of course, Monsieur Lévy. Only –

LÉVY

Oui?

NANCY

Don’t let him look at the recent proofs. He is close with the mayor, who I suspect would not approve of the bacon and eggs.

LÉVY

Do not fear! Your chickens, they will be safe with me.

NANCY

I know they will be. Thank you, Monsieur Lévy. Au revoir.

NANCY kisses LÉVY on the cheek and turns to exit S.L.

LÉVY

(Gruffly) Au revoir, Madame Cunard. (Shouting after her) Watch out for individualists! I hear England is full of them.

Scene 7. Le Puits Carré, 1931. NANCY

storms in S.L. with an armful of pamphlets.

Some are already stuffed into addressed

envelopes. NANCY stuffs the rest of the envelopes,

addressing and stamping them as she goes.

NANCY

Does anyone know a negro!

NANCY continues to stuff the envelopes,

becoming increasingly agitated.

NANCY

Does anyone know a negro!

HENRY enters S.L with several suitcases.

He leans them against the press.

HENRY

Nancy –

NANCY glances up, but continues with her work.

HENRY

Nancy, don’t mail those pamphlets. Not to all of you mother’s friends.

NANCY

Black Man and White Ladyship is a political pamphlet, Henry. And it’s aimed exactly at my mother and my mother’s friends.

HENRY

But it’s you being angry with your mother in public.

NANCY

That’s exactly what she said, Henry. About us! She said that we were dirty laundry. She tried to have you extradited from England! She sent private detectives to prowl around our hotel!

And it’s not just Mother. It was everyone in England. You remember George Moore? His was the first book we published at the press and he was a friend to me when I was a girl. And when I asked him if he had had any coloured friends, he said: “No, I think none, but the subject has never come my way. You see, I’ve never known anyone of colour, not even an Indian. I have met neither a brown man, nor yet a black man. I do not believe I could get on well with a black man, my dear. I think the best I could manage would perhaps be a yellow man.”60

HENRY

Well, you gotta start somewhere.

NANCY

How can you laugh? The bigotry, the utter unfairness –

HENRY

What else am I going to do, Nancy?

NANCY

Rage! Throw something. Write something.

HENRY

We are writing something, the antholo –

NANCY

(Unheeding) And the thing is … it started as a society rivalry. Lady Asquith61 asking Mother of me: “Well, Maud, what is it now? Drink, Drugs, or Niggers?” And Mother, confronted by the press: “Do you mean to say my daughter actually knows a negro?” You see? It’s not even about race. It’s about class.

HENRY

You make that pretty clear in the pamphlet.

NANCY

Yes, to change the class system. We must reform the system as a whole and the only way to do that is to speak out!

HENRY

If I spoke like that to my mama, she’d slap me.

NANCY

Oh, she’ll slap back, all right. With her money and her privilege. Well, that’s fine. It’s not money I want, not money that’s tainted in that way. She’s always been like this. She always –

HENRY

Give her some time.

NANCY

The time is now, Henry. It’s 1931, for God’s sake. How long can this go on? After everything you’ve told me about race in America. After everything you’ve suffered – there’s no other way to look at it. Those who oppose us are enemies.

HENRY

Calm down, Nancy.

NANCY

(Looking out the window) Look, there’s Georgette on her way into town. I’ll ask her to mail these for me.

NANCY leaves quickly with her envelopes.

HENRY looks at the remaining pamphlets and

envelopes. NANCY returns S.L.

HENRY

She took them?

NANCY

Yes, you know Georgette. Never too much trouble.

NANCY looks at the pamphlets and the stacks of

articles and photographs gathered for the anthology.

NANCY

Do you know when I told my English friends of our idea to create an anthology of negro and negro-sympathetic writing from around the world, to show people the humanity of people of every colour, half of my friends – more than half of them – said they won’t speak to me if the anthology appears. These are intelligent people, Henry. Educated. Philanthropic. People I would have said are good people.

HENRY

It doesn’t –

NANCY

And Mother – the hysteria caused by a difference of pigmentation!62 … (Looking around) We’ve resolved things here. People have accepted us here. Yes, there have been small incidents … of course the mayor … but mostly people are good to us. Why can’t it be that way in England?

HENRY

Lots of reasons, Nancy. None of them are going to change in a hurry.

NANCY

But we must call out race prejudice where we see it. Isn’t that right?

HENRY

I don’t know, Nan. When it helps, I guess.

NANCY

Why – do you think I’ve done the wrong thing, Henry? Was it wrong to have called out all of her snobbisms, race and class?

HENRY

Georgette’s already halfway to the post office by now, Nancy.

NANCY

But I don’t see how else I would break down those barriers. It must be a full assault!

HENRY

You want my advice? Give it some space. You’d only be throwing gasoline on the fire now.

NANCY

No. I’ll write her a letter. So that she understands why I did it. So that she knows I only want to break with those insidious ideas –

NANCY stands at the desk and scrawls a hasty

letter. She seals it and hands it to HENRY.

NANCY

Will you take it into town and mail it, Henry?

HENRY

Nancy –

NANCY

Please, Henry. It’s important.

NANCY presses the letter into HENRY’s

hands. HENRY nods.

NANCY

Thank you. I’ll unpack a little. Clean myself up. What a journey – and there’s still so much to be done on the anthology and now it’s imperative that we go to New York. Well, we can talk about all of that later – though how we’ll keep up with the press I don’t know. Research, travel, writing cannot go with printing and publishing …63 And England only made it clearer that we must continue our work on race. That we must gather hundreds of contributors from around the world to show the diversity of the coloured experience. That Harlem will be a central piece in that. That we must take this fight not only to England but to America.

HENRY

Go rest, Nan.

NANCY

You’ll mail the letter to Mother?

HENRY

I’ll go out now.

NANCY exits S.R. HENRY waits a moment,

then tears the letter in three and throws it

into the trash. HENRY exits S.L.

Scene 8. A hotel in Harlem, April 1932.64

The front of the hotel is projected onto an

outcropping of S.R. On what amounts to the

fourth floor, there is a platform that represents

NANCY’s hotel room. NANCY hurries past at

stage level, and is accosted by the reporters

who are standing in the front row of the audience.

REPORTER 1

Nancy! Nancy! What’s an heiress doing in Harlem anyway?

REPORTER 2

Miss Cunard, what about these reports of negro men coming and going from your hotel at all hours?

REPORTER 3

Hey – Miss Cunard, what’s your mother think about you seeing a negro movie star? Is that why you’re both staying at this hotel?

NANCY looks as though she is going to flee

into the hotel, but then turns to make a statement.

NANCY

I have one thing to say, and that is to deny the printed allegation of my involvement with Paul Robeson.65 He is a very fine actor. I admire his work. Beyond that, I have only met him once at a club in Paris, Le Boeuf sur le Toit, in 1926. That is all.

REPORTER 1

Nancy! Are you saying your affair with Robeson started back in Paris?

REPORTER 3

What other bohemian activities can you tell us about?

NANCY

And now after your interest in my private affairs (I hope I have sufficiently satisfied this) I want something in return. Why are you Americans so uneasy of the Negro race? This question is the epitome of the whole colour question as it strikes a plain English person such as myself. Who’ll write me the best answer to this? I’ll print it in my book on colour.66

REPORTER 1

Nancy – is the book a pretext for coming to America?

REPORTER 2

Nancy! Hey, Nancy.

REPORTER 3

Are you planning to star in a film with Mr Robeson?

NANCY exits stage into the hotel and re-emerges

on the fourth-floor platform. Books and papers

are scattered on the desk and the bed. As the

neon hotel sign flashes, so too do we see flashes

from the pages of Negro Anthology – photographs,

text, music scores. The red light and the images

play on the room and on NANCY. NANCY removes

her coat and scarf and sits down at the desk.

NANCY

(Taking a breath) Right. Back to work. Scottsboro.

NANCY begins to write and then looks up as she

narrates her article. During her description, we see

photographs and film footage from the Scottsboro

case on the wall of the hotel.

On March 25, 1931, black and white hoboes were “riding the rails,” hidden up and down the length of a freight train going from Chattanooga to Memphis, Tennessee. No money, no fares, setting out to look for work. Travelling in this manner is a frequent occurrence in America. But such is the race hatred that white tramps even will object to the presence of Negro hoboes in the same wagon. Not for nothing has the white ruling class for decades been teaching the “poor white” that he can always look down on the Negro worker, no matter how wretched his own economic condition may be. So the white boys started a row and tried to throw the “niggers” off. The negroes resisted them, and the whites did not get the best of it. All but one jumped off and telephoned the station-master at Stephenson to arrest the “niggers” who’d dared to fight with them.

The train had already gone through this station, so was stopped at Paint Rock. Here sheriffs and excited citizens took nine Negro boys and three white boys out of separate parts of the train. At first all were charged with vagrancy and told to get out of that county as quick as possible. And then suddenly, while all were being searched, two of the white boys were discovered to be girls in men’s overalls. So the sheriff got an idea; it wasn’t possible for Negroes and white girls to be on the same train, in the same car maybe, without the question of rape coming in. The boys protested they had not even seen any girls; some of them had seen a fight, that was all. But some of the crowd were for an immediate lynching; authorities assured them the “niggers” would be properly dealt with and should not escape “justice.” All were promptly locked up, the Negroes to be brutally beaten, the girls to be put through the third degree and forced into saying they had been repeatedly raped by the boys. Both girls were known to be prostitutes; Victoria Price had a prison record and impressed on Ruby Bates the utter necessity, now, of falling in with the authorities’ views so that they might themselves escape the law’s punishment.67

The phone rings. NANCY answers it abstractedly.

MALE AMERICAN (VOICE)

I don’t know what they call your kind in England but here in America they call them plain nigger fuckers or prostitutes of the lowest kind …68

NANCY is startled and hangs up the phone.

She walks over to the bar and pours herself

a drink. She takes a drink, steadies herself,

then returns to her narration with projections.

NANCY

The trial date was first of all fixed for April 1, but postponed till April 6, a fair-day in Scottsboro, one which would assure the largest crowd possible and enable the mob to witness the condemnation of what the local papers called “the Negro fiends.” Scottsboro is described as a sleepy little town of some 10,000 inhabitants in the northern part of Alabama, but on trial day the presence of the military who had been called in to make a show of quelling the lynch spirit made it look like an armed camp. The authorities had deemed it necessary to send 118 soldiers to bring the nine boys in to the town from Gadsden jail, where they had been held since arrest.

Armed soldiers were on guard inside and outside the court house, to which only persons holding special permits were allowed entry after having been searched. Already by 8 a.m. thousands had gathered from all over the neighbourhood, and by 10 o’clock the crowd was estimated at 10,000. The lynch spirit had been whipped up to such a point by the authorities that statements were going around saying that the “horrible black brutes had chewed off one of the girls’ breasts.” The doctor’s evidence – and this is the most important part – on his examination of the girls immediately after they were taken from the train, showing they were unscathed, and which was public knowledge, meant nothing to the people of Scottsboro. The local newspapers tried to whitewash the presence of the agitated mob by saying the crowd was “curious, not furious,” and maintained it had gathered out of mere curiosity.

The trial began on the 6th and was all over on the 8th of April, 1931 – three days to convict and sentence to death nine Negro boys all under twenty years old, two of them thirteen and fourteen respectively, one boy with a sexually transmitted infection so severe he could not possibly have participated in any rape. There were no workers on this jury, not white nor black. It was composed of local businessmen and neighbouring well-to-do farmers. Just before the proceedings began, Wembley, the legal advisor to the Scottsboro Electric Company, which controls the town, had walked through the mob and told them that “everything would be all right in a few days,” and that his company had enough power to “burn up the niggers.” In court, the boys had a lawyer who had not, on his own statement, studied nor prepared the case and told them to plead guilty.

The boys were tried without having been allowed to communicate with parents, relatives, or friends, yet maintained their innocence.69

HENRY hurries by the reporters on his way into the hotel.

REPORTER 1

Hey, Henry! Give us a quote.

REPORTER 2

Mr Crowder, what’s it like sharing Miss Cunard’s attention?

HENRY enters the hotel room with a handful

of letters. He throws off his hat and puts the

mail on the desk.

HENRY

Those reporters –

NANCY

I know. They won’t give up. It’s sordid. Why won’t they get behind our cause instead? They could be shedding light on the cultural accomplishments of a people. What could be a better use of journalism than that?

HENRY

(Taking off his coat) That’s the fabric of this place, Nancy. There’s a lot of hate.

NANCY

What’s come in the mail, then?

HENRY picks up the letters and sits down

on the bed, sorting through the mail.

HENRY

Oh, the usual, more threats. Damn if those people aren’t crazy enough to follow through.

NANCY

You can’t listen to them.

HENRY

Can’t afford not to listen. This press storm’s gone berserk. Someone’s going to do something.

NANCY

We can’t quit, Henry. We already have over five hundred pages collected. And the additions on Harlem will add a whole new dimension. I’ve been writing notes on the vitality of the children here … What else ?

HENRY

Letter from a Scottsboro mother, thanking you for the money.

HENRY hands NANCY the letter. She skims it.

NANCY

I’m working on that article now –

HENRY opens another envelope and looks

at the enclosed photographs.

HENRY

Lord knows those boys need all the help they can get. Here’s a contribution from Lawrence Gellert70 called “Negro Songs of Protest.”

NANCY

I’ve been waiting for that.

HENRY

And Michelet71 has sent a draft of “African Empires and Civilisations.”

NANCY

Wonderful.

HENRY

Huh. Prints from Barbara Ker-Seymer.72 (Checks the postage) Guess they’ve been following us around in the mail.

NANCY

Oh! How do they look?

HENRY

(Sorting through the photographs) Some are real good. This one with you in the veil.

The solarized photograph of NANCY

appears on the screen.

HENRY

But this one where the negative’s been used to make your skin look black – Nancy, what were you thinking?

NANCY

(Taking the photograph and admiring it) It was Barbara’s idea. It’s a new technique called solarization. Really quite remarkable.

HENRY

But it looks like your skin’s black and those pearls around your throat are choking you. Like you’re being lynched. Don’t you have any idea what this looks like to a black man?

NANCY

Henry, you of all people should know. It’s an identification. An expression of solidarity.

Photo fades.

HENRY

It’s two little girls playing with film.

NANCY

Playing!

HENRY

Bright Young Things.73 Is that what they called you? The Corrupt Coterie?74 You think because these photographs make your skin look black that you know? Do you understand what kind of danger you’ve put me in here?

NANCY

(Taking a breath) Henry, I realize the pressures are extreme –

HENRY

You play at lynching, but this is real life for me, Nancy. It’s not a cause or a … a romantic infatuation.

NANCY

Is that what you think it is for me? After all of the work, the hours …

REPORTER 1

(Yelling up) Nancy. Hey – Nancy – Just yell something down. Is it true or ain’t it?

NANCY calms herself, steps over to the

window, and looks down.

NANCY

They think I slept with Paul Robeson – they’ve printed it.

HENRY is silent.

NANCY

Oh, come on. The accusation is ludicrous.

HENRY

I know you are infinitely capable of living three or four lives at once.

NANCY

I belong to you, Henry. You’ve made me. All of my ambitions.

HENRY

If you belong to me you also belong to a whole hell of a lot of others.

The phone rings. HENRY looks at it suspiciously,

NANCY with trepidation. HENRY’s look challenges

NANCY to answer it. She does, slowly.

NANCY

Hello.

MALE AMERICAN (VOICE)

Mrs Nancy Cunard, take this as a solemn warning, your number is up. You’re going for a ride shortly. You are a disgrace to the white race. You can’t carry on in this country. We will give you until May 15th. Either give up sleeping with a nigger or take the consequences. That is final. P.S. – We will not only take you but we’ll take your nigger lover with you.75

NANCY hangs up the phone.

HENRY

Who was that?

NANCY

I don’t know. Men have been calling.

HENRY

(Sarcastically) Have they?

HENRY grabs his coat and hat.

NANCY

Don’t –

HENRY exits, slamming the door. NANCY

stares a moment, then slowly sits at her

desk and continues her narration with projections.

NANCY

In appeal upon appeal those boys were convicted and sentenced to death or life imprisonment, even when Ruby Bates came out and repudiated the rape lie. Victoria Price’s testimony was full of gaps and contradictions but that did not matter to the juries. And so they remain imprisoned, most waiting to die, for a lie, for a terrible lie, for a crime the evidence itself says they did not commit. Such is justice for the American negro today.76

Blackout except for the flashing neon

images from Negro.

During the intermission, a reel of news

footage and still photos plays, a silent depiction

of the political events of the 1930s: hunger

marches, Haile Selassie, Communist rallies,

Scottsboro marches, Hitler’s speeches in

Germany, outbreak of the Spanish Civil War,

war footage. The reel plays in a loop and

ends with the depictions of the war in Spain

as the second act begins.

ACT II

Scene 1. Madrid, 1936. The S.R. balcony has

been made to look like the terrace at Pablo

Neruda’s77 Casa de las Flores78 with potted

geraniums along the sides. NANCY stands on

the terrace, drink in hand, looking out at the

city. PABLO enters onto the terrace behind her.

PABLO

Nancy! I wondered where you’d gotten to. Everyone’s inside. Come in – Alberti79 is here and I want you to meet him –

NANCY

It’s so tranquil out here, Pablo – you wouldn’t even know about the war, not really.80 Not about Franco81 or the tanks or the planes. Just the flowers and the city.

PABLO

Sometimes the most exotic flowers grow in strange conditions. Look at Madrid. Since the Republicans have taken over it has in some ways become the ideal city – class distinctions abolished, everyone working cooperatively.

NANCY

And Franco at the gate.

PABLO

Certainly. But is it partly that pressure that brought about transformation? Look at me, a poet, a diplomat from Chile. Now I am a political organizer on the way to the front. My poems are for the people.

NANCY

And me, a disinherited heiress, reviled in London, now the Manchester Guardian’s only eyewitness reporter in Spain. Still, there’s so much that’s terrible in it. Soldiers practically children. The Moroccans pressed into a war that isn’t theirs in the first place.82

PABLO

You feel the African involvement intensely.

NANCY

Yes, of course. Another exploitative example in a long history.

PABLO

Then that’s why we must fight it.

Sound of laughter from inside the apartment.

PABLO

Come in, Nancy. Délano83 is telling his story about dressing up as a woman to get past a Nationalist guard.

NANCY

(Not noticing) Things in Spain, Pablo, have taken hold of me entirely. And I have been thinking: Would it not be good to send out a questionnaire to writers in Britain to see how they feel about it?84 “Writers must take sides. To-day the struggle is Spain. Tomorrow it may be in other countries – our own. This is the question we are asking you: Are you for, or against, the legal Government and the People of Republican Spain? Are you for, or against, Franco and Fascism?”85

PABLO

Yes, good, Nancy. Of course you must do it.

NANCY

And poems, like the ones you’ve passed out at the front to inspire the soldiers. Pamphlets. We could do that too. I still have the press in Normandy.

PABLO

Yes, of course. But first we must eat and drink and talk.

NANCY

I doubt they’re having dinner on the front.

PABLO

Nancy, those soldiers are Spanish, not English, and it’s early days. I assure you both sides will stop for dinner – whatever they can find – and no matter what Franco says.

NANCY

I so want us to win. We need to win. There’s no alternative.

PABLO

Winning takes imagination. They have the priests, but we have the poets.

NANCY

And poets are better soldiers?

PABLO

Yes, of course. Better dinner guests, too. Come in, Nancy.

NANCY and PABLO exit. A documentary film

of war footage runs across the balcony set.

Scene 2. Le Puits Carré, winter, 1937. NANCY

runs the press. She is thorough and accomplished

in her work, and we see projected images of her

prints. PABLO enters S.R. with a stack of proofs.

NANCY

Tzara,86 Aragon, Langston Hughes, Garcia Lorca.87 Should we put them together or separately? International Poets for the Spanish Republicans or The Poets of the World Defend the Spanish People?88

PABLO

(Looking at one of the proofs) It might be the poetry of the world defending itself from Pablo Neruda. This is the third proof I’ve ruined.

NANCY

(Looking at the proof) It takes time. This is fine. (Laughing) Except here. You’ve transposed your p’s and d’s and made párpados – that’s heavily lidded, isn’t it? – “dárdapos.”

PABLO

(Sighing and wandering away from the press) I must be the world’s worst typesetter.

NANCY continues printing.

NANCY

Not the worst, darling Dárdapos. Certainly not the worst. Do you know Auden’s sent us the most wonderful poem on Spain, essentially saying there’s only one moral stand one can take. I can’t quite believe he had the gumption to do it.

PABLO rifles through books on the desk.

NANCY

That pamphlet will sell out in days, I’m sure, and all that money for food for those poor families from Badajos.89

PABLO

(Picking up an oversized book on the desk) Is this your famous Negro Anthology, then? It’s incredibly heavy.

NANCY

Yes, over eight pounds! That’s what happens when you have 150 contributors.

PABLO

How did you ever afford to have it printed?

NANCY

A funny story, actually. An English newspaper printed a libellous story about me and Paul Robeson. I sued and came out with £1,500 – exactly the amount it cost to have the book printed by Wishart Press!

PABLO

Poetic. (Flipping to the front of the book) This Henry, in the dedication. “My first negro friend.”

NANCY

Yes.

PABLO

Where is he now?

NANCY

Washington, last I heard.

PABLO

And that’s difficult for you.

NANCY pauses.

PABLO

Don’t worry about me. You know I believe it completely possible to love many at once.

NANCY

And you frequently do.

PABLO

Yes. Frequently. I am more alive for it. And a better poet.

NANCY

A better poet. And the women in your life think so too?

PABLO

They do and they stay or they don’t and they leave.

NANCY

One person can make you feel so alone in the dark. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be.

PABLO presses a hand against NANCY’s face.

PABLO

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

in secret, between the shadow and the soul90

NANCY pauses a beat, then looks away.

NANCY

Yes, it seems it does make you a better poet.

PABLO

If only Auden knew my secret he would write ten good poems on Spain.

NANCY

Auden has secrets of his own.

PABLO

Yes, I suppose he does.

NANCY

Yet still I feel he finds more measure of acceptance, in some places, anyway, than a woman who takes too many lovers.

PABLO

You won’t be imprisoned.

NANCY

No. But not accepted either.

PABLO

Does it matter?

NANCY.

No, of course not. Not like other things matter. (Turning back to the poems) Once we have the first two plaquettes done I think we should start the third with the Guillén91 or the Alberti.

PABLO spreads a horse blanket on the ground.

He sits on one side, leaving room for NANCY.

PABLO

Time for a break.

NANCY

No, Pablo. We’ve only just started –

PABLO

Three hours ago. It’s very quiet here. Last night I went for a walk –

PABLO extends his hand to NANCY.

Reluctantly, she comes and sits down.

PABLO

It was night and the moon was out. The snow and the moonlight fluttered like a curtain around the estate. I was filled with excitement. On the way back, the snowflakes swirled around my head with chilly insistence. I lost my bearings completely and had to grope my way through the whiteness.92

NANCY

Yes, there’s something about Réanville in the winter. Some quiet beauty.

PABLO

Like Santiago. Which is very far away.

NANCY

And warmer –

PABLO

Warmer, yes. And the sea like blue crystals for swimming and the good bread and the wine –

NANCY

I dream about Réanville when I’m in Spain.

PABLO

And yet you continue to return there.

NANCY

(Looking away) Yes.

NERUDA

We still have the cities, mostly. Madrid, Valencia, Bilbao, Barcelona …

Spotlight on NANCY. NANCY stands S.R.

Footage of the Spanish Civil war

continues to play, projected on both

NANCY and the screen behind.

NANCY

Headed for the Cordoba front, events now came so fast that I had only reached Perpignan the day Barcelona fell. The refugees were starting to pour in over the frontier from Spain to France. Up at seven. On the road in a car by 8:30, or by train, to the frontiers at Le Perthus and Cerbère, and even to Bourg Madame in the snow. Over, on foot, several miles to the first Spanish village. Scenes of horror along the way. Questioning, noting, talking to hundreds of people in Spanish, memorizing things to describe. Often no lunch, from lack of time. Back, come dark, to the unheated, freezing, dingy room in a horrible hotel where, by the worst light imaginable, exhausted and shivering, I would try to make consecutive sense in writing out of the facts and impressions of the day. The three- or four-page airmail dispatch then had to go off to the Manchester Guardian. The first real meal and rest came generally about 10:00 p.m., when, between mouthfuls, one would be discussing events with some of the other journalists. An occasional alternative was afforded by those hourlong waits in the crowded Préfecture, preliminary to obstinate arguings and pleadings with angry officials and the grudging stamping of permits.93

A documentary film shows bombing and the Republican retreat. In the black and white light of the film, PABLO stands, folds the blanket, puts it aside. He and NANCY turn to each other and, arm’s-length apart, clench hands, the knowledge that the war has been lost on both their faces. As in a silent film, she mouths the words “Goodbye, Dárdapos,” and these words run along the bottom of the film screen behind her. PABLO mouths “Santiago?” which also appears on the screen. NANCY hesitates, then responds, “France, first.” NANCY and PABLO look at each other a moment, then he runs S.L. and she S.R. There is a final shot of Republicans in French refugee centres and the film ends.

Scene 3. Cuba, 1941. The balcony set S.R. has been done up as a café in Havana. Salsa music is heard in the background. HEMINGWAY sits at the café table, reading a newspaper which shields his face. A fly (sound heard over speakers) buzzes around his head. HEMINGWAY shakes his paper. The fly sounds continue. HEMINGWAY shakes his paper again, more violently, and a hand swats at the air. The fly noise stops. HEMINGWAY straightens the paper in front of his face and continues to read. The fly noise begins again as NANCY steps onto the balcony.

HEMINGWAY

(Dropping the paper and leaping up) For crying out –

NANCY jumps, surprised.

NANCY

Hem! What are you –?

HEMINGWAY

(Laughing, embracing her) I’d ask you the same thing, Miss Cunard, but I’m reading about it in the paper. Greeted as a hero in Trinidad, eh?

NANCY

Yes, well, unusual, I can tell you. I can’t believe you’re here.

They both sit at the table. HEMINGWAY signals

for a waiter and begins to speak but NANCY cuts in.

NANCY

We want two Anis del Toro – with water.

HEMINGWAY

(Playing along) Is it good with water?

NANCY

It’s all right. It tastes like licorice. Like everything you’ve waited so long for – 94

NANCY and HEMINGWAY laugh.

NANCY

It was a good line, Hem. I often think about it … What are you doing in Cuba?

HEMINGWAY

Martha95 and I bought a house here last year. You should come and –

The WAITER emerges and deposits two

glasses on the table. NANCY nods her thanks.

NANCY

I haven’t seen Martha since we were all reporting in the mountains in Spain. I’ll never forget how cold I was – or you warming my feet by the fire.

HEMINGWAY

I wouldn’t bring that up with Martha.

NANCY

Don’t be ridiculous. We were all so exhausted – you kept my toes from falling off. Anyway, I’m leaving for New York tomorrow. I’m desperate to get back to England – and to Réanville, eventually.

HEMINGWAY

You should stay, Nan. I keep telling Martha not to go – Europe’s not fit –

NANCY

No, I feel England’s come down on the right side for once. I’ve got a friend working as a translator for the Allies. If I can, I’ll do the same when I get there.

HEMINGWAY

Not sure it will change much.

NANCY

I can’t believe that, Hem. Not really. Anyway, you should be encouraging American intervention –

HEMINGWAY

(Shrugs, takes another drink) What happened to you, anyway? I lost track of you after Madrid.

NANCY

When Barcelona fell I went over the border into France, with the refugees. Then South America – Chile, Mexico, and the Antilles – half the world between me and home. But now that France has collapsed … I still can’t believe that we lost in Spain. It’s unfathomable. And now Hitler – (abruptly) have you heard from Ezra?

HEMINGWAY

Go easy on him, Nan.

NANCY

Do you know when I was over the border in France, when the war ended, I voluntarily imprisoned myself at the Fort of Collioure, where they were keeping some of the most important of the Republican leaders. Those running the refugee camps – in France, no less – were pro-fascist. The Republican refugees who had been put in “Special” were left out in the rain … These men’s eyes are no longer human. The look in them is like that of hunted beasts. They seemed to have lost all notion of ordinary things; they were brutalized by the sadistic treatment of which they were daily the victims. They received only three slices of bread per day and had only water to drink. The foulest insults were hurled at them. They were morally tortured by being told that they were going to be given up at any moment to Franco.96

One would have thought that, to someone so hypersensitive, the very vulgarity of fascism would be repugnant, even leaving out entirely its fundamental principles.97 And Ezra’s making pro-Mussolini radio broadcasts in Rome. He’s speaking for the fascists. One of us. He is – fascist.

HEMINGWAY

Not really, Nan. No, not really.

NANCY

Then what?

HEMINGWAY

This is what you got to understand about Ez, Nan. He was ridiculed and paid no attention to in the States. Then in England, there wasn’t enough respect for his work and ideas, and more or less the same when he went to live in France. But in Italy – well, he’s a figure there, perhaps even “a great man.”98

NANCY

The correct word for a fascist is “scoundrel.”99

HEMINGWAY

Sure – but Europe’s full of ’em right now.

NANCY

That’s no excuse. It’s never an excuse. Racist is racist. Fascist is fascist. Why do people insist on making excuses?

HEMINGWAY

(Chuckling) I don’t know, Nan. Things aren’t always clear.

NANCY

What about Bob, then? And Bill?

HEMINGWAY

McAlmon made it out through Lisbon. Back in the States – Texas or somewhere he’ll be equally miserable. Bill’s still wandering Spain somewhere.

NANCY

I still feel I should have stayed. In Spain or in France, possibly shot, or taken the humiliating but necessary road to Bordeaux.100

HEMINGWAY

Do you hear that?

NANCY

What?

HEMINGWAY

The music. Know what that is?

NANCY shakes her head.

HEMINGWAY

Life. Everyone chooses it if he has half a chance. No reason you should be any different.

NANCY

No, I suppose not.

HEMINGWAY

To life, then. To Paris in the twenties, where it all started.

NANCY

The twenties weren’t that great, Hem.

HEMINGWAY

Don’t bust a mythology in the making, Nan. That was always your problem, busting people’s mythologies.

NANCY

I suspect your mythology has served you better than mine. To getting home to my house in Réanville. I’ll be damned if I let fascists keep me from that.

HEMINGWAY bows his head and raises his glass.

NANCY

(Raising her glass) To the good fight. Always.

HEMINGWAY

If that’s what you want to call it. To surviving this bloody mess.

NANCY and HEMINGWAY toast. The scene

goes dark. Documentary footage

suggests battle and then Allied victory

in Europe.

Scene 4. Le Puits Carré, 1945.

NANCY (VOICE OFF STAGE)

I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this moment, Georgette. All the time I was in England, how near France was and how agonizingly far.101

GEORGETTE (VOICE OFF STAGE)

Madame Cunard, you must prepare yourself. Le Puits Carré is not as it was. Il n’ya plus

NANCY (VOICE OFF STAGE)

Oh, come now, Georgette. The fighting wasn’t even near here.

GEORGETTE (VOICE OFF STAGE)

Nancy, there are no doors, no windows, no furniture left. Books, books, everywhere …102 There is nothing to … nothing you can save.

NANCY (VOICE OFF STAGE)

But that smell, Georgette. What is that smell?

GEORGETTE (VOICE OFF STAGE)

The well. They threw in a sheep to putrefy, books, excrement, an old chintz cover from the sofa, and two rifles.103

NANCY (VOICE OFF STAGE)

Why would they –?

NANCY and GEORGETTE step into a disordered

scene of a ransacked and vandalized Le Puits

Carré. The stage is a littered mess of books,

broken statues, ripped carpet, and torn pages.

A bayonet has been thrust through the Eugene

McCown portrait of NANCY. NANCY surveys

the scene, touching a few broken and torn items.

NANCY

(Pause) The German soldiers did this?

GEORGETTE

Oui. And the French reservists, I am afraid. And –

NANCY

And who, Georgette?

GEORGETTE

It is best to leave it, Madame.

NANCY

Tell me.

GEORGETTE

The mayor was impliqué.

NANCY

The mayor of Réanville?

GEORGETTE

He is not a good man. And a collaborateur en plus. We did not want to give him the keys. He said he would confiscate our land.

NANCY

I want to see him.

GEORGETTE

The mayor? Are you crazy? He will not come. And besides –

NANCY

He will come. To gloat if nothing else.

GEORGETTE

Madame, I –

NANCY

Get him! Please.

GEORGETTE hesitates, then departs S.L.

NANCY walks through the rubble, looks

up into the sky and through the ruined walls,

and fingers a copy of Pound’s A Draft of

XXX Cantos that has been nailed over a window.

NANCY

Let me be practical! Let me see – and save – what is left.104

NANCY begins sorting through a pile of strewn papers.

What’s this? My father’s first letter, torn out of the family album, dated in the early 1850s when my father was around four. (She picks it up out of the rubble and reads from the letter) “I am a good boy.

I know my letters.”105

NANCY laughs a little caustically and

puts the letter on her ledger.

This, but all my other letters – gone. All my bracelets …

NANCY sees the African mask she wore

while dancing to HENRY’s piano playing

in the rubble. It has been broken in two,

and she fits the pieces together for a moment

before pulling them apart again and putting

the pieces on the printing table. She sees the

cover of Negro torn from its binding on the

ground, picks it up, and holds it to her chest

for a moment before putting it beside the mask.

She looks around at the debris and then, as

though for the first time, sees the Mathieu

with a drop cloth halfway across its length.

NANCY

The venerable iron Mathieu press! (Removing the cloth and inspecting the press) It seems they’ve done nothing, no doubt because its size makes it impossible to move! Solid and intact, if a little rusty.106 My wonderful press. I could start again. We could –

The MAYOR enters S.L.

MAYOR

You summoned, Madame Cunard?

NANCY

Yes, I wanted to tell you myself of my intention to sue.

MAYOR

For what, Madame? You abandoned your house. It was wartime.

NANCY

You allowed the soldiers in here, you –

MAYOR

I have a sworn duty, Madame.

NANCY

But you enjoyed it.

MAYOR

Yes, I will admit to a certain pleasure. The ideas that have emerged from this house –

NANCY

Oh yes, what could I have seemed to you – I, a foreign woman, actually engaged in printing. Printing! And printing what? A press is very dangerous! It means the dissemination of ideas, obviously very bad ones in this case – foreign, for a start.107

MAYOR

Yes, foreign. They had no place in La Chapelle Réanville. And neither do you. Neither did those negroes or the bohemians and Spanish refugees you stored here.

NANCY

Much has been destroyed. But there is still a court system in France.108

MAYOR

Trust me when I say the magistrates do not look favorably on revolutionary ideas. Nor do they have much taste for spoiled English heiresses.

NANCY

Mr Mayor, I have no taste for your manner or your politics. You are the worst kind of bigot, the small-minded, petty kind who enjoys the suffering of others. But I would never destroy your property.

MAYOR

I? I only unlocked the door, Madame. It was the villagers who did most of the damage.

NANCY is silent.

MAYOR

Oh, you didn’t know? The soldiers only did minor damage. It was your neighbours who destroyed the rest. (Casually) How satisfying it must have been for them after years of resentment, of watching you and your friends toss aside all of their values. How they must have hated you to have behaved so ruthlessly, for the destruction to have been so … total.

The MAYOR pulls out one of NANCY’s

bracelets from his pocket.

MAYOR

Norvale, you do remember Norvale, from the local police? He brought me this souvenir. I like to keep it on my desk, a little reminder of how wild things can be tamed.

The MAYOR puts the bracelet back in his pocket.

MAYOR

Good day, Mademoiselle Cunard. (Bowing slightly) And welcome home, of course.

The MAYOR exits S.L. NANCY wanders through

the rubble, touching items here and there.

NANCY

How much I have … how I have thought about the old days and the press. Réanville in the dripping mist, outside the printery; Réanville in the scorch of July; Réanville of all those night hours among the circulars and address books spread over the floor. How I have thought about the way of life in 1928 – Aragon composing designs … where might he be now? Henry’s wafted music – in what country is he at present? My many Spanish friends in France, what is happening to them?109

NANCY runs her hand along the Mathieu.

NANCY

When finally the war did end, it was impossible to find words for the atmosphere in Paris, the “new ways,” the emotion of it all! What had not died during the years of betrayal and defeat and passion and resurgence?110 And now I am faced with the shambles.111

NANCY walks C.S. and surveys the ruin.

NANCY

I have raged. I have raged. And now I find there are only enemies. Enemies, enemies everywhere.