Something] in a double bill at Londons Arcola Theatre in a producton directed by Grinne Byrne.

In April
2010 Siempre se olvida algo was performed in both the original Spanish and this translaton by bi-lingual
students from Hostos Community College, CUNY. The producton was directed by Angel Morales.

The plays of Virgilio Piera and the collaboratve process of translaton for performance are the twin
strands of her practce-led PhD research at the Drama Department of Queen Mary, University of London
for which she receives funding from the AHRC (Arts and Humanites Research Council).

Invisible on Stage: the Case of Roberto Arlts Saverio el cruel

Ningn problema tan consustancial con las letras y con su modesto misterio como el que propone
una traduccin. (Jorge Luis Borges)1

Translation has to do with authority and legitimacy and, ultimately, with power, which is precisely
why it has been and continues to be the subject of so many acrimonious debates. (Andr Lefevere) 2

Roberto Arlt (1900-1942) is generally considered by critics the forerunner of the Latin
American boom. Arlts innovative style reflects a fascination with the popular and a trenchant
social realism fused with fantasy; his oeuvre is considered to have paved the way for later Latin
American magic realism. Though distinguished names such as Jorge Luis Borges and Julio Cortzar
praised his work, still, Arlt has also been considered by lesser figures a marginal voice, a tragicomic
commentator on life, an autodidact and journalist, a writer who could not even spell. Arlts place in
the Argentine canon has, however, been granted as Arltian scholars and critics regard his work as an
incisive portrait of its epoch, a much deserved milestone that secured the author a literary place
that his contemporaries tried to deny him.
This article, organised in three sections and a short conclusion, will focus on Arlts theatre career.
The first section provides a brief sketch of Arlts theatre production and his relation to the Teatro

1
Las versiones homricas, Discusin (1932) in Obras completas (Buenos Aires: Emec, 1974), pp. 239-243.
2
Translation/History/Culture. A Sourcebook (London: Routledge 1992), p.2.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 81
del Pueblo together with a short description of Saverio el cruel (1936 [Saverio, the Cruel]),3 the
particular play under study. The second section addresses some broad problems in relation to
theatre translation using a Translation Studies viewpoint4 in order to try and situate Arlt within a
broader Argentine tradition of translation, in general, and that of the theatre in particular. Finally,
the third section discusses some of the specific problems encountered when translating, or rather
rewriting, Saverio el cruel.

I. Roberto Arlt, the Teatro del Pueblo and Saverio el cruel.

The place occupied by Roberto Arlt within Argentine letters is today incontestable. All the same, it is
Arlt the auto-didact novelist and journalist that attracts the greatest attention;5 Arlt the playwright
is a much lesser known figure, one that is frequently overlooked even. As Florian Nelle points out,
Arlt made a name in the theatre by means of adapting his own novels for the stage.6 In fact, his first
play, the one that actually pushed him towards the theatre, El humillado ([The Humiliated] staged in
1931), represents a translation of a fragment of Los siete locos (1929, [The Seven Madmen]) for
Lenidas Barlettas Teatro del Pueblo. According to Bernardo Carey, this is a common phenomenon
amongst theatre writers of the period who, in general, prefer to adapt their prose for performance. 7
This could explain why critical works discussing Arlts prose fiction vastly outnumber those which
set out to analyse his dramatic contribution. In fact, the only critical work on Arlts theatre prior to
2000 was a study by Castagnino published in 1964.

The 1930s, the decade in which Arlt initiated his theatre career, would prove a pivotal one for
Argentine theatre history, for it is at that moment that Lenidas Barletta (1902-1975), one of the

3
All translations, unless otherwise stated, are mine.
4
Lefevere Translation Studies: The Goal of the Discipline in Literature and Translation, (ed.) James S. Holmes,
Jos Lambert and Raymond van den Broeck (Louvain: ACCO, 1978), pp. 234-5.
5
Arlt published four novels: El juguete rabioso (Buenos Aires: Latina, 1926; Mad Toy (Durham& London: Duke
University Press, 2002), trans. Michele McKay Aynesworth; Los siete locos (Buenos Aires: Latina, 1929; The
Seven Madmen (Boston: D. R. Godme, 1984), trans. Naomi Lindstrom, (Boston: Godine, 1984), trans. Nick
Caistor; Los lanzallamas (Buenos Aires: Claridad, 1931), El amor brujo (Buenos Aires: Victoria, Talleres
Grficos Ra, 1932) more than 70 short stories (mainly published in magazines, except the 1933 El
jorobadito) compiled in Roberto Arlt, Cuentos completos, edited by Ricardo Piglia and Omar Borr (Buenos
Aires: Espasa Calpe, 1996) and various editions of his Aguafuertes, the series of columns published in El
Mundo newspaper. For a complete bibliography see Rita Gnutzmanns Roberto Arlt, Innovacin y compromiso.
La obra narrativa y periodstica (Murcia: Campobell 2004).
6
See Roberto Arlt y el gesto del teatro in Roberto Arlt: Una modernidad argentina (ed.) Morales Saravia and
Schuchard (Madrid: Iberoamericana, Frankfurt am Main: Vervuert, 2001), pp 125-139.
7
See Bernardo Carey, Mossian revela el teatro de Roberto Arlt in Teatro (XXI, VI, 10, (otoo) 2000), pp. 90-92.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 82
key names of the Boedo group,8 set up the Teatro del Pueblo. As Versnyi points out, the Teatro del
Pueblo was perhaps the first non-commercial theatre in Latin America. 9 Barlettas Teatro del Pueblo
staged works of a number of European playwrights, Shakespeare, Gogol, Tolstoi, Cervantes,
Lope de Vega, Molire, to name a few. At the same time, it also catered to the people who
wanted to see what the generacin del 900 had to offer. Thus, local, contemporary names such as
Ral Gonzlez Tun, Nicols Olivari, Ezequiel Martnez Estrada, Eduardo Gonzlez Lanuza
and of course Roberto Arlt were also part of the Teatros cultural agenda. This avant-garde,
experimental theatre paid particular tribute to national authors and artists, including first and
second generation of artists who were too rooted in popular culture to enter the canonical
mainstream. The Teatro del Pueblo stood out because it experimented with new techniques,
focusing on the role of the director and challenging the commercial theatre. According to Barletta, it
would bring the art to the masses, thus promoting the spiritual elevation of all our people (my
italics).10 Arlt is amongst the key figures contributing to this teatro independiente movement;
according to Ordaz Arlt even fu [sic] por antonomasia, el autor del movimiento independiente. 11
Furthermore, critics such as Rela consider that Arlts dramaturgy define una slida actitud
renovadora en el teatro argentino moderno.12

8
During the 1920s and 1930s, the Buenos Aires literary arena was dominated by two vanguard movements,
Florida and Boedo, which differed not only geographically but also aesthetically and politically. Members of
the Florida group, named after the opulent shopping street representative of the central, European-like,
luxurious life style, tended to focus on mainly aesthetic goals. Jorge Luis Borges, Ricardo Giraldes, Conrado
Nal Roxlo and Oliverio Girondo may be counted amongst this patrician tradition. The Boedo group, on the
other hand, represented a suburban wave greatly influenced by the nineteenth-century Russian realists.
These would focus on political and social issues, mainly in prose narrative, while the Florida group would also
cultivate poetry. Roberto Mariani, Elas Castelnuovo, Lenidas Barletta exemplify the Boedo literati. Both
groups maintained their own journals and publishing houses. In spite of the overt differences in style, taste,
and social and political background, there were numerous friendships between members of these ostensibly
opposed groups. Because of the considerable overlap of interests, there were many writers who oscillated
between them, Arlt being one of those in particular who transcended narrow partisanship.
9
Versnyi, 1993, p. 141.
10
In 1912, the Council of the City of Buenos Aires passed a decree by means of which a new popular theatre
aiming to offer instructive and moralizing shows would be created. Although the Teatro del Pueblo started its
activities in 1931, it is not until 1936 that Lenidas Barletta would be given a theatre building in concession.
Barletta continued to be director of the Teatro del Pueblo until he died in 1975. The most prolific period of the
theatre is perhaps between 1937 and 1943 when the theatre was forced to move premises as the Military
government closed it down. The theatre continues working today under the administration of the Fundacin
SOMI (www.teatrodelpueblo.org.ar, accessed November 2009).
11
[Arlt] was, par excellence, the author of the independent movement. Ordaz, El teatro en el Ro de la Plata.
Desde sus orgenes hasta nuestros das (Buenos Aires: Liatn, 1957), p. 228.

12
[D]efines a solid, revitalising attitude in modern Argentine theatre. Argumentos renovadores de Roberto
Arlt en el teatro argentino moderno, Latin American Theatre Review (Volume 13, Nr 2, pp 65-71), P. 66.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 83
The fact that Arlt abandoned novel writing (El amor brujo [Bewitching Love] of 1932 is his last
novel)13 in favour of a completely different medium may well be responsible for the largely negative
evaluation that his theatrical oeuvre has received.14 Figures such as Julio Cortzar, who praised
Arlts prose writings, considered his drama dispensable. Similarly, critics such as Adolfo Prieto have
attacked Arlts theatre, deeming it a sign of the artistic decadence of a writer who had given in to
presiones socio-culturales.15 Despite adverse critical opinion, Saverio el cruel, possibly the most
enduring of Arlts stage plays, proved a triumphant success, making an important contribution to
the development of national Argentine theatrical tradition.

If Roberto Arlt earned the clich label of bad writer in relation to his novelistic production
(allegedly, he could not spell), he was certainly a self-made man when we refer to his theatre. In
Teatro completo de Roberto Arlt [The Complete Theatre Works by Roberto Arlt], Mirta Arlt reminds
us that following his criterio de inventor, de explorador intuitivo acu formas por el
procedimiento de prueba y error.16 Nevertheless, this intuitive creativity, as opposed to a scholarly
training, does not imply that he was unaware of the theoretical and formal problems associated
with writing. In actual fact, Arlt himself was conscious of his limitations.

By 1931, the year when El humillado, a fragment of Arlts second novel Los siete locos, was adapted
for the stage, Arlt was already a well-known novelist and journalist who, encouraged by Barletta,
would combine his journalistic and narrative career with the writing and staging of his own plays.
With the excepton of El fabricante de fantasmas [The Phantom Maker], which was performed by the
company run by Milagros de la Vega and Carlos Pirelli (October 8th, 1936), all of the plays Roberto
Arlt penned and saw staged were premiered at the Teatro del Pueblo: El humillado (1931 [The
Humiliated]); Prueba de amor (1932 [Proof of Love]); Trescientos millones (1932 [Three Hundred
Millions]) Saverio el cruel (August 26th, 1936 [Saverio, the Cruel]). La isla desierta (December 30th

13
Though Arlt abandoned novel writing, he continued to write his Aguafuertes and also produced a number of
short stories after 1932. As Satta points out, after 1932, in fact, la cantidad de relatos publicados aumenta
considerablemente. (2000), p. 172.
14
See Nelle, p. 126.
15
[S]ocio-cultural pressures, Prieto 1978, p. xxx.
16
[Arlt], following his inventive, intuitive, explorative criteria, coined forms by a process of trial and error.
Arlt, Teatro completo de Roberto Arlt (Buenos Aires: Editorial Schapire, 1968; vols 1 and 2), Vol 1, p.7. All cites
are taken from this edition.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 84
1937 [The Desert Island]), frica, (March 17th 1938 [Africa]), La festa del Hierro (March 18th 1940
[The Party of the Iron]). Arlt finished El desierto entra en la ciudad (Teatro El Duende, November 5th,
1953 [The Desert enters the City]) in 1942 but died on June 26th the same year.

Saverio el cruel, was originally published as Escenas de un grotesco in 1934 [Scenes of a

Grotesque].17 All in all, the play received very good reviews.18 In this play, Saverio is a stereotypical
Italian immigrant who sells butter on commission for a living and seems quite happy with his
humble life. Susana, a wealthy young lady, sends for him on the pretext of a business proposal.
Hopeful and expectant Saverio arrives at the estancia only to meet Susanas close relatives who
inform him she has gone mad. At Susanas however, they also have a proposition to make: they want
nave Saverio to take part in the experimental farce the conspirators are organising in the hope of
shocking Susana back to sanity. This implies Saverios playing the part of a Colonel, as Susana
believes she is a princess whose kingdom has been taken over by this tyrant. In the therapeutic
farce, the Colonels head would be severed; one of them would get a real human head to give the
charade a realistic touch, and, thus causing Susana the shock she would need to be cured. Unaware
of all this, Saverio reluctantly accepts, and they could not be more amused anticipating Saverios
public humiliation the farce was to take place in front of more friends at a fancy-dress party. To
their surprise, Saverio is tipped off and disgraces them all when he confronts Susana with the truth.
The change of fate comes when Susana, who in actual life has really gone mad, shoots Saverio when
he rejects her, both as a phoney Colonel and as a real man.

Although systematically criticised by La Prensa, Arlts role in the Argentine theatre of the 1930s and
1940s is nothing if not dynamic. Indeed, Arlt played an active role in the Argentine theatre of his
time translating current political and social issues onto the stage; his contribution to the Teatro del
Pueblo movement and to the national stage as a whole was culturally rich and varied as well as
historically relevant.19

17
Escenas de un grotesco (Gaceta de Buenos Aires, n2, August 1934; reprinted by Jorge Dubatti, El cronista
comercial, 3rd and 10th of January, 1997).

18
Saverio el cruel en el T. del Pueblo. La obra de Roberto Arlt continua la lnea de nuevos moldes in La
Nacin, 28th August, 1936. Even La Prensa, traditionally more critical of Arlts oeuvre in general, reticently
highlights Arlts evidente propsito renovador dentro de nuestro ambiente [obvious intent to revive our
theatrical scene]; see Saverio el cruel fue estrenada anoche en el Teatro del Pueblo in La Prensa, 27 August,
1936.
19
See C. Miranda, Saverio el cruel: National History and the Subversion of Melodrama in Fragmentos, n 32 (ed.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 85
 II. Translation and the Theatre

Translation plays a crucial role in many literary traditions. In the manner commentators such as
Venuti and Hale propose, the study of translation can open new approaches to recurrent issues in
the history of literatures. Within such literary traditions, of course, we find the theatre
(notwithstanding the concerted attempt within British and North American universities to promote
drama as a discipline in its own right and entirely separate from literature). As Hale and Upton note
in the introduction to Moving Target, Theatre Translation and Cultural Relocation,20 the intimate
relationship the stage has long enjoyed with translation is, naturally, no secret. In Britain,
approximately one in eight professional productions reviewed in the national press at the time of
writing (2000) was a translation. Nevertheless, translation does not enjoy the same privileged
status in other media: statistics suggest that theatre seems one of the most receptive forms,
television and cinema suffering from the proverbial aversion of English-speaking audiences to
dubbing and even subtitling.21 Indeed, Hale and Upton point out that [d]espite theatres age-old
tendency to adopt material from other cultures, British sensibility has been inclined to underplay
the foreignness of its inspirations. Translations and adaptations, having been thoroughly
domesticated, have entered the repertoire almost surreptitiously under the guise of British
versions.22 This was especially so in the nineteenth century when almost half the plays staged in
the London theatre were of French origin, though few advertised themselves as such. Even
perennial classics of the Victorian stage such as Still Waters Run Deep (1855) and The Ticket-of-
Leave Man (1862) were based on French originals.23 According to Booth, the influx of French
sources was so great, however undercover, that some critics felt that native English drama was
doomed to extinction.24

Literary translation fared much less well, even in the nineteenth century. Today, the British

Paul Jordan, Brazil: University of Santa Catarina, 2007, pp. 51-63)

20
Carole-Anne Upton ((ed.), Manchester: St Jerome, 2000, pp. 1-13).
21
Hale, 2000, p. 1.
22
Upton, 2000, p. 4.
23
Hale, Popular Theatre in The Oxford Guide to Literature in English Translation, (ed.) Peter France, (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2000), pp. 382-93.
24
Michael Booth, English Plays of the Nineteenth Century Volume III Dramas 1850-1900. (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1969), p. 15.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 86
and North American publishing industry has a clear aversion to translation. Venuti, for
example, has pointed out that despite American and British publishing output having
quadrupled since the 1950s, the percentage of translations has remained at some 2% to 4%
of the total number of new titles published.25 This is one of the lowest in-translation rates in
the world. The publishing industry is by no means the only example of the negative effects of
the cultural hegemony of the English language.

Writing about Issues in the Translation of Latin American Theatre, Kirstin Nigro notes the
notorious absence of Latin American theatre in the USA despite the fact that Latinos constitute the
second largest minority in the country.26 Despite the boom and post boom phenomena, only a
handful of Latin American writers have secured their place on bookshop shelves in the US and
Britain, though these include Pablo Neruda (Chile, 1904-1973), Jorge Luis Borges (Argentina, 1889-
1986), Octavio Paz (Mexico, 1914-1998), Carlos Fuentes (Mexico, 1928), Guillermo Cabrera Infante
(Cuba, 1929-2005), Mario Vargas Llosas (Peru, 1936), Gabriel Garca Mrquez (Colombia, 1928),
and Isabel Allende (Chile, 1942). And the list is even shorter when we look at playwrights. Nigro
also highlights that most readers are unaware of or uninterested in Latin American writing,
assuming incorrectly that it is too exotic or inferior in quality (meaning usually too political). 27
Apart from the ethnocentricity of the American (and we might add British) attitude in relation to
translation in general, needless to say, the situation of Latin American playwrights is further
complicated by the performance dimension with all the issues of production, casting and monetary
pressures. Nigro attributes this, at least partially, to the lack of circulation printed theatre itself
enjoys in Latin American countries. Obviously, there are always exceptions to such generalization;
after all, a handful of Latin American playwrights have found their way on to the international stage.
Perhaps the most significant theatrical works to emerge from Latin America in recent decades are
Death and the Maiden by Ariel Dorfman28 and El beso de la mujer araa [The Kiss of the Spider

25
See Venuti, 1995.
26
See Kirstin Nigro, Issues in the Translation of Latin American Theatre in Moving Target, Theatre
Translation and Cultural Relocation, (ed.) Carol-Anne Upton (Manchester: St Jerome, 2000) p. 118.
Although Nigro particularly focuses on Latino theatre for a U.S. audience, her arguments are useful with
regard to the present discussion.
27
Nigro, p.118.
28
Death and the Maiden was originally written in English (New York, N.Y.: Penguin Books, 1992);
translated into Spanish as La muerte y la doncella. (Mexico, D.F.: Seix Barral, c1995). In 1995, this piece was
made into a film; Death and the Maiden (Mount/Kramer Production of a Roman Polanski Film. [S.l.]: Turner
Home Entertainment: New Line Home Video, c1995).
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 87
Woman] by the Argentine, Manuel Puig,29 two plays which also made the transition from stage to
screen. Equally, Hollywood provided Chilean Skrmeta (bn. 1928) with considerable publicity when
his novel Ardiente paciencia [Burning Patience], later retitled El cartero de Neruda (Ediciones del
Norte, 1985; Plaza & Jans, 1995 [Nerudas Postman]), was adapted for the cinema as Il Postino
(1994, dir. Michael Radford [The Postman]). Likewise, Argentine Griselda Gambaro (bn. 1928) and
Cuban-French Jos Triana (bn. 1931) are some Latino names that may sound familiar in English-
speaking cultures.

Despite these examples, stage translation per se remains a secondary activity. With the exception of
Gambaro and Triana, the other examples cited above are essentially novelists or poets who have
turned their hand only occasionally, albeit successfully, to the theatre in the course of very active
careers.30 It is also noteworthy that translation, when it has occurred, is invariably limited to the US
stage; the British stage has virtually no history of involvement with Latin American theatre. This is
not intended, of course, to diminish the work for the theatre of these authors but to highlight how
the genre seems to have been systematically marginalised.

An area which is even more neglected than narrative prose is the translation of theatre. According to
Hale and Upton, [t]he theatre translator has rarely been acknowledged as a creative figure integral
to the process of production. Translation studies has paid relatively little attention to this particular
role; theatre studies even less.31 As Susan Bassnett points out, one possible explanation could be
the higher literary status poetry holds, but it most probably is due to the widespread erroneous
notion that a novel is somehow a simpler structure than a poem and is consequently easier to
translate.32 Perhaps the assumption here is that stage translation is an activity analogous to the
production of translations of narrative fiction, and that both activities share a similar methodology.
As theatre practitioners recognise, this is clearly not the case. To begin with, dramatic texts have an
entirely different purpose since it is only in performance that they realise their full potential.
29
El beso de la mujer araa (1976) was later translated for the theatre (1983) and in 1985 also made it to
the big screen. Directed by Hector Babenco and starring William Hurt, Raul Julia and Sonia Braga, the film was
nominated for several Oscars and earned Hurt the Oscar for Best Actor (1985). In the 1990s it was also
adapted for a musical which opened (with its own cast) in London in 1993, the following year in Broadway
and later in Buenos Aires.
30
Skrmeta could be the exception as he has forged his career both as a novelist and script writer for
television and cinema.
31
Hale (2000), p. 10.

32
See Susan Bassnett, Translation Studies (London: Routledge 1998), p. 109.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 88
Indeed, as Bassnett notes, the stage translator is thus presented with the central problem of
whether to tackle the playtext as a purely literary genre or to try to translate it in its function, as
one element in another, more complex system.33 As Bassnett further points out, work on theatre
semiotics has shown that the linguistic system is not an optional component in a set of interrelated
systems comprising in a spectacle.

A. Rewriting Saverio el cruel

Following the discussion above, working between an Argentine-Spanish and an English system is
unlikely to be easy. Trying to create a version of Saverio that makes sense to an Anglo-Saxon
audience would probably demand an intrusive translation practice more akin to rewriting than
translation in the narrow sense. After all, translation, at least in Britain, usually depends on finding
a convenient topical issue of concern to the host community which may somehow be illuminated by
the source text (ST): a peg on which to hang the translation. Arguably, such a rewriting would
constitute not so much a scholarly exercise as a creative one; and for this reason the translation to
which these comments refer will not attempt to constitute a fluent, essentially domesticated
translation ready for stage performance.34 However, it is useful to provide a close, reasonably literal
(but not excessively so) version, not least because any future rewriting depends, as a first step, on
the production of such a core version. Indeed, the British theatre routinely commissions so-called
literals which are then passed over to experienced playwrights (who may not, and generally do
not, read the language of the ST). How literal a literal should be is open to interpretation, however,
and the term has never been defined in a satisfactory manner. In practice, a literal can constitute
any one of a host of different discursive practices. Not only this, but there is evidence to suggest that
the literal is a peculiarly British practice, largely created by the decline of language skills amongst
theatre professionals. In any event, there is little evidence of the existence of the concept prior to
1914; and some theatre professionals tend to associate the term with the increase of interest in
world theatre ushered in by the early repertoire of the National Theatre in the mid-1960s.

Even the production of a close reading poses a number of questions. To begin with, the very act of

33
See Bassnett, p.120.
34
This translation is part of my PhD thesis Roberto Arlt: Translation and the Construction of Genre
(Unpublished Doctoral Thesis, University of Hull, 2007).
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 89
translation serves to move the play from a peripheral, non-hegemonic location to a central,
hegemonic system. Likewise, the psychological situation of the translator (in this case, the present
writer) is ambiguous: stranded between a scholarly academic tradition (which discourages
authorial intervention in the texts of canonical authors) and a theatre practice (which seems to
demand such interventions), but also stranded between a native non-prestige (Argentinean)
culture and the hegemonistic demands of the English language. A third, and far more practical,
problem lies in the fact that class antagonism is at the very heart of the play. One hundred years of
socialism in Britain during which time the leisured land-owning classes have virtually been
abolished35 has largely erased the ferocious class hatred which underlies the play. More generally,
a contemporary British audience has no experience of a culture constituted by a small wealthy elite
and a massive semi-destitute immigrant population. A final issue with regard to stage translation in
recent years has been the tendency of the British stage to largely disassociate itself from literary
experimentalism in favour of performance practice in a non-text based context.

But Translation Theory also fails to offer any easy solutions. Arlts technique as a creative writer has
some parallels with the concept of tradaption adopted by the English-speaking world. This term, a
contraction of translation and adaptation, was used by the French Canadian theatre director
Robert Lepage to convey the sense of annexing old texts to new cultural contexts. 36 Paradoxically,
Arlt was using this system of massive and systematic adaptation at the time when the Prague School
was looking for a methodology which could provide a supposedly perfect translation. 37 By this, the
scholars of the Prague school, curiously enough contemporaries of Arlt, meant a translation that
would work on stage exactly in the same manner as the original source text had done on the target
culture.

Examining the function of the linguistic system in theatre in relation to the experience as a whole
Bogatyrev suggests that:
35
Canadines work has been highly influential in this respect. See in particular Canadines The Decline and Fall
of the British Aristocracy (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990).
36
See Verma, Jatinder, British: a jungli approach to multi-cultural theatre (in Studies in Theatre Production 13,
pp 92-98), p. 93.
37
Dramatic texts encompass certain features that are distinctive dialogue being the central one. Veltrusk, to
name but one, mentions that, the relationship between the dialogue and the extralinguistic situation is
intense and reciprocal. The situation often provides the dialogue with its subject matter. Moreover, whatever
the subject matter may be, the situation variously interferes in the dialogue, affects the way it unfolds, brings
about shifts or reversals, and sometimes interrupts it altogether. See Veltrusk, Ji, Drama as Literature
(Lisse: Peter de Rider Press, 1977) p. 9.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 90
 Linguistic expression in theatre is a structure of signs constituted not only as
discourse signs, but also as other signs. For example, theatre discourse, that must
be the sign of a characters social situation is accompanied by the actors gestures,
finished off by his costumes, the scenery, etc. which are all equally signs of social
situation.38

This proves a very difficult and very impractical notion to exercise as conventions of theatre
practice are not even the same within one given culture. Assigning a particular weight or
interpretation, for example, to the stage-lighting of a particular scene, is by no means easy. In many
respects, such matters are more or less defined by conventional practice as much as the
requirements of a director; but whether one can even begin to place more than a subjective
evaluation on the impact of the lighting on, say, the emotional register, let alone its ideological
import, of a scene is highly debatable. Unfortunately, the conceptual naivety of such a schema
perhaps because of its promise of absolute scientific accuracy has maintained a fascination for
researchers to the present day even though it fails to ask the sort of questions that a theatre
practitioner would be interested in. More to the point, since live theatre is about performance, and
not about recapturing some past performance elsewhere (however influential or important), the
ideal translation envisaged by those associated with the Prague School might well prove not so
much an ideal as a millstone even if it was a viable concept. After all, what is interesting about
translation, whether literary or performance-based, is that the target text does not have the same
colouring and weight as the original.

This system of achieving a perfect translation proposed by the Prague School likewise fails to take
into consideration more practical issues. Meech sees the figure of the director (and certainly not
the translator, however perfect) at the centre of a production. Indeed, he argues that the theatre
poses perhaps a unique opportunity for researching how a theatre speaks to its audience; how it
responds to and expresses the aspirations and concerns of that audience.39 Meech points out that
under the cover of a concept production, it had long been a practice in Eastern Europe to stage
plays from the classical canon, injected with a contemporary political relevance. In this way, a play
such as Hamlet or Julius Caesar needed little in the way of adaptation to present all-too-familiar
images of tyranny for a politically aware East German audience. No wonder Stalin banned

See Peter Bogatyrev, Les signes du thtre, Potique, VIII, 1971, pp 517-30, as cited by Bassnett, p. 122.
38

Meech, The Irrepressible in Pursuit of the Impossible. Translating the Theatre of the GDR in Moving Target,
39

Theatre Translation and Cultural Relocation, (ed) C-A. Upton, (Manchester: St Jerome, 2000, pp 128-137) p.
129.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 91
productions of Shakespeares plays in pre-War Russia.40 Thus, it is ultimately the director, and not
the translator, who will bear the signature of the production, who will interpret and stamp a play
with meaning for his or her particular community. If the same play will be different when
performed by the same actors, say at different venues, or even from one day to the next, we can only
expect that it will be interpreted in different ways by different directors working in different
cultures. As a result, the notion of semiotic equivalence here is not only theoretically untenable but
also practically unachievable.

B. Interpretative communities

When looking at Arlts oeuvre in general and his theatrical work in particular, especially if we also
bear in mind the fact that Arlt was mainly engaged within the Boedo group at Barlettas Teatro del
Pueblo, we cannot but place the notion of interpretative communities at the centre of this analysis.
As Hale, and more recently Krebs with regard to Edwardian theatre translation, 41 argue: translation
can be used, and frequently is used, to create new readings of texts which are at odds with not only
the authors intended reading but also the readings of a works original (source language, SL)
audience. Looking closely at a particular interpretive community, or rather a translational
community, Krebs draws attention to the collaborative interaction of a small group of theatre
practitioners working for the West End stage in the early twentieth century and the manner in
which that group defined translational practices and constructed a small canon of contemporary
German plays within an English setting. A similar situation could be observed in Argentina in the
1940s and 1950s. Interestingly, Patricia Wilson addresses issues regarding translation practices of a

40
Meech, p. 128.
41
Krebs Doctoral Thesis Dissemination of Culture Through a Translational Community: German Drama in
English Translation on the London West End Stage from 1900 to 1914 (University of Hull, 2002) published as
Cultural Dissemination and Translational Communities. German Drama in English Translation, 1900-1914
(Manchester: St Jerome, 2007).
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 92
particular Argentinean intellectual group in her La constelacin del Sur [The Sur Constelation].42
Although she does not refer to this phenomenon in the light of Krebs concept of translational
community, Wilson thoroughly describes how during these decades publishing houses such as Sur
(notably led by the pen of celebrated figurers such as Borges, Silvina Ocampo and Jos Bianco)
shaped the European and North American influx of literature creating a canon not only for the
Argentine but also for the rest of the South American readership.

Although Krebs argument relates to German drama in the West End, by analogy, various insights
may be applicable to the Argentine situation. In scrutinising the Teatro del Pueblo, Lurys concept of
lifestyle could prove useful as lifestyle is part of a groups attempt to differentiate themselves from
other groups in a struggle over social positioning. In this sense, lifestyle is the common
denominator of this movement. As Krebs points out, [a]s a group of theatre practitioners their
work in and around the theatre is an attempt to differentiate themselves from the status quo of the
theatre landscape and change the role and function of theatre.43 Crucially, another point the Teatro
del Pueblo has in common with Krebs interpretative community of German translators is the fact
that the primary aim of the translations conducted by these communities was not publication but
performance.

In this respect, it is difficult not to evaluate how analogous the role of translator and playwright is,
how similar their status, how marginal and ultimately invisible they both have been. In Argentina,
as in Britain, the theatrical experience is largely controlled, as we have seen, by a director rather
than a playwright or, indeed, a translator. In fact, the status of the latter is often so questionable that
the role can almost entirely be unacknowledged. As in the British system, there is not even any form
of power sharing arrangement. The play bears the authorial signature of the director as much as
that of the playwright. In any event, the presence of either the playwright or the translator is not
demanded at the rehearsal stage (though in other cultures, where the role of the dramaturg is more
clearly established, the author/translator is represented by proxy). The expendability of the

42
Literally Sur means South; here Wilson is referring to the literati associated with the avant-garde
magazine Sur. Wilson looks at how the works of William Faulkner, Virginia Woolf, Jean Genet, and Graham
Greene, amongst others, were filtered by this group of elitist writers and translators who foreignized the
works and created authoritative versions, both aesthetically and ideologically, for the South American reader.
(Buenos Aires: Siglo XXI Editores Argentina, 2004).
43
Krebs 2002, p. 66.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 93
translator is manifest in other ways, too. You can make do without a formally accredited translator
(though the practice may be extremely questionable, numerous productions are cobbled together
from a hotchpotch of existing translations without any form of accreditation though those guilty of
such practices are reluctant to draw attention to the fact), but never without actors, the director,
lighting and sound technicians, and so on. On this basis, the claims of some schools of thought,
notably the Prague School, simply fail to recognise the reality of the power dynamics that exists
within the British (and other) theatre.

Such a situation also occurs within a South American context, not least because of the
linguistic proficiency of South American theatre practitioners, including actors and
actresses, typified by names such as China Zorrilla.44 Although born in Uruguay, Zorrilla is a
household name in Argentina. When asked about how she herself interacted with the other
actors, the director, and the translator of the foreign plays in which she has played a role
(let us note in passing that Romance languages emphasize the role of the actor by talking of
his or her interpretation), she remarked, in her usual humorous and matter of fact manner,
that in her experience, she could not remember ever having come into contact with such a
person as a translator.45 What the company tended to do, she continued and here she
refers in particular to the production staged by herself and her Uruguayan compatriot
Carlos Perciavalle, in the mid 1980s, of Mark Twains 1903 The Diary of Adam, which they
translated themselves and adapted into the musical El diario privado de Adn y Eva [The
Private Diary of Adam and Eve]46 was enter into rehearsals on the basis of a literal that
was usually produced by the director and/or the various actors and actresses involved in
the production on a collective basis. This literal would then be worked up later by the
director, who would alter and adapt it to suit his own cultural, aesthetic and ideological
agenda. In a case such as that of Zorrilla, the desire of a member of the cast to be involved at
an early stage in the framing of the overall production, including the translation, perhaps

44
Born in Montevideo, March 1922, Zorrilla lived in Paris due to her fathers work. Zorrilla lived and worked
in London, Cannes (covering the Festival for the Uruguayan El Pas newspaper) and New York where she
taught French in a French school and worked in a drama school (notably with actors such as Dustin Hoffman).
In 1971, after appearing in Un guapo del 900 (Argentina 1971, dir. Lautaro Mura), Zorrilla moved to Buenos
Aires where she still lives.
45
Personal communication with the present writer. Buenos Aires, December 2000.
46
During October 2009, Zorrillas and Perciavalles El diario privado de Adn y Eva toured Argentina. In this
version, the 87 year old Zorrilla (who was to undergo hip surgery) was confined to a chair from where she
sang and acted her parts.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 94
suggests a desire to mould a particular part to the actors strengths. Also important is the
fact that Zorrillas notorious career and experience in the theatre has secured her
authoritative credentials to, if not to take hand-on part, at least have a say in some
production decisions.

Arguably, in the Argentine theatre, the translation is no more than a common property, often
undertaken collectively, and subject to any number or permutations. The literal (indeed a first
draft of the translation) is intended as no more than a neutral text, that is a text lacking in
ideological colour, either that of the source or the target culture, which provides no more than a
blank canvas on which the director can superimpose his new interpretation. In such a context, the
translational concept of domestication hardly has any meaning either, since the recontextualisation
performed by the director might equally apply, as in the case of Arlt, to a locally produced ST, as to a
translated ST.

Indeed, as part of that community of interest (where the members of a community have certain
characteristics in common as well as similarities and agreements, be they cultural, ideological or
aesthetic) and, in fact, as a dramaturg, Arlt played an equally marginal role in the staging of his
own plays as that usually played by a translator. Mirta Arlt comments on the fact that, sometimes, as
a part of the Teatro del Pueblo movement, Arlt was forced to compromise both his aesthetic and
ideological agenda to fit in with that of the Teatro, that is, his interpretative community. At times,
those compromises were merely driven by the meagre budget with which the Teatro operated: [e]n
principio su objetivo fue manifestar sus problemas, inquietudes y opiniones apelando a recursos
espectaculares y deslumbrantes que hipnotizaran al espectador. Era difcil alcanzarlo en un teatro
de verdad pobre como era el Teatro del Pueblo. 47 At other times, however, Arlts artistic and,
perhaps particularly, ideological imprint was subjugated by the overriding power of the Director.
En esa noche fra de octubre del 36 [In that 1936 Cold, October Night] Mirta Arlt goes on to
comment that

Arlt supo, dolorido, que a Saverio el cruel le aguardaba el retorno a las exigencias del Teatro
del Pueblo, que en efecto impuso la situacin del primer acto, con personajes de la
burguesa frvola, inescrupulosa e irresponsable, en lugar de la celebracin de un
47
[H]is main objective was to express his troubles, concerns, and views resorting to spectacular and dazzling
effects which would mesmerize the spectator. This was difficult to achieve in a truly poor theatre such as
the Teatro del Pueblo. Mirta Arlt, La locura de la realidad en la ficcin de Arlt in El Teatro y los das. Estudio
sobre el teatro argentino e iberoamericano, (ed) Pellettieri (Buenos Aires: Galerna, 1998, pp. 13-24), p. 20.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 95
 aniversario del manicomio donde los internados eran actores y autores del evento. 48

Mirta Arlt further suggests that had the author been alive when his last play, El desierto entra en la
ciudad, was staged (1952),49 it would also have undergone the usual amount of rewriting after being
read and rehearsed by the director and the cast. This perhaps exemplifies how, at least in Argentine
theatre, a play, as a much as a literal, is but the common property of all, writer, translator, director
and cast. It also shows how both playwright and translator may be erased from the whole process
and, indeed, result invisible.

SAVERIO, THE CRUEL

A three-act dramatic comedy.

Characters

Susana, Juan, Pedro, Julia, Luisa, Maid, Saverio, Simona, Caddie, Ernestina, Landlady, 1st
Man, 2nd Man, Juana, Ernesto, Dionisia, Demetrio, Roberto, Maria, Herald.

Guests, Voices.

FIRST ACT

Hall to the study. To one side, the stairs; to the front, interior door; in the foreground,
windows.

48
Arlt came to the painful realisation that Saverio el cruel would have to succumb to the demands of the
Teatro del Pueblo, demands that required the change in the first act, with its frivolous, unscrupulous,
irresponsible bourgeois characters instead of the celebration of the anniversary of an asylum where inmates
were actors and authors of the show. Mirta Arlt, p. 23.

49
As we mentioned previously in chapter 4, Arlt finished this play in 1942 but did not see it staged as he died
soon after.
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 96
 SCENE I

PEDRO, JULIA, SUSANA and JUAN. They are all between 20 and 30 years of age. JULIA is
embroidering.

SUSANA. (Abruptly breaking apart from the group and pausing by the door) So stop here
and at that point Ill say to him: But what makes you so sure that Im Susana?

JUAN. All right. So what happens next?

SUSANA. (Going back to her embroidery) He should have been here by now.

PEDRO. (Glancing at his watch) Five oclock.

JUAN. (Looking at his watch). Youre 7 minutes fast. (To SUSANA) This is a great hoax
youve come up with.

SUSANA. (Standing up, ironically) Well at least none of our friends will be able to complain
that they were bored this year. In fact, itll be more like a private theatrical show than a
house party.

JULIA. The whole idea is disgusting.

SUSANA. (Indifferently) Really? (JULIA does not answer. To JUAN). No mistakes now.

JUAN. Nooo (SUSANA, silent)

PEDRO. Isnt he a good actor?

JULIA. (Still looking at her embroidery) Thank goodness the mater isnt around. She doesnt
find this sort of thing very amusing

PEDRO. But the mater would see the joke in the end. She always does.

JULIA. But dont you care how the poor lad will feel when he realises youve been fooling
him?

PEDRO. If hes a bright lad, hell treat it all as a joke and say so to Susanas face.

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 JUAN. (Ironically) Well done you!

JULIA. If hes a bright lad, he probably wont be amused. Intelligent people never like to
have their faces rubbed in it.

JUAN. In a way, Im glad my aunt isnt here. Shell blame the whole damn thing on me.

JULIA. Quite right, too. You and Susana have concocted the scheme between yourselves.

PEDRO. Come on, Julia. Dont blow things out of proportion.

JUAN. You always take thing too seriously, Julia. Nobody means any harm by it. Even if the
milkman ends up with egg on his face, we dont exactly cover ourselves with glory either.

JULIA. I dont see why you have to be so mean to have a good time.

PEDRO. (To JUAN) Shes quite right, its all your fault for encouraging Susana.

JUAN. (Pretending to be angry) You have to credit Susana for her artistic temperament,
dont you?

JULIA. Susanas artistic temperament is not the point. What I find so disgusting is this
whole business of spinning a web of deceit in which to catch a perfect stranger.

JUAN. Calm down, children! Thats exactly the point, Julia. There wouldnt be any fun in it if
the victim knew what we had planned for him. You dont get any laughs from picking up a
banana skin before somebody steps on it.

SCENE II

LUISA enters suddenly, dressed to go out.

LUISA. Hello, hello, everybody. How are you, Juan? Has he arrived yet? (She stops by
PEDROs chair)

JULIA. We were just talking about him. (Silence).

LUISA. Whats going on between you? It feels like a funeral parlour in here. Wheres
Susana?
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 JULIA. Dont you think this whole business is going too far?

LUISA. There you go again! Why do you always have to be the spoil-sport? Its only a bit of
fun.

JULIA. Im glad to hear you say so!

LUISA. Do you agree, Juan?

JUAN. Of course.

JULIA. If you dont watch it, that milkman will kick up a right stink.

LUISA. I just wish I had a part to play in it.

JULIA. Dont worry, you will. Im washing my hands of the whole business. Its just
downright mean.

JUAN. Come on!

JULIA. No, Im serious! If the mater were here, Id get her to put a stop to it right this
instant. Getting up). Im going. (Silence)

SCENE III

LUISA, PEDRO and JUAN.

JUAN. What a stroke of luck, her walking out on us like that!

PEDRO. What if shes right? What if the milkman does kick up a stink?

LUISA. (Ruffling Pedros hair) Dont be silly; hes only a bloody milkman. Were going to
split our sides over it. Shall I play Julias part?

PEDRO. What about your mother?

LUISA. Shell be fine.

JUAN. Fine with me. (The phone rings. PEDRO hurries to get it)

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 PEDRO (On the phone) Oh, is that you? No, hes not here yet. Susana is just getting dressed.
Tonight. OK, see you later. (Going back to the table) That was Esther. She wanted to know
whether the milkman had arrived.

JUAN. You see! Everybodys heard about it. (Lowering her voice) Just between ourselves:
were beginning to get a reputation.

LUISA We certainly are!

SCENE IV

The same. Enter the MAID.

MAID. Sr Pedro, the milkman is here.

JUAN. Have you informed Susana?

MAID. No, Sr.

JUAN (To LUISA) Lets see how you look in your role of concerned sister. (To PEDRO) And
you as the doctor. (Standing up) Remember all of you to stay calm whatever happens. (He
leaves)

LUISA. Eat your heart out, Greta Garbo.

PEDRO. (To the MAID) You can show him in now. (Exit MAID.)

LUISA. (Unexpectedly) A kiss for luck, Pedro? (PEDRO stands up and kisses her swiftly. Then
he sits down at the table pretending to look serious. LUISA tidies her hair. Enter SAVERIO.
Physically, he is small and shy. His tie is not straight. Hes wearing a reddish shirt and has a
hang-dog look about him. Exit MAID. SAVERIO pauses at the door not knowing what to do
with his hat)

SCENE V

SAVERIO, LUISA and PEDRO; then SUSANA.

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 LUISA. (Approaching him) How do you do, Saverio? Allow me. (She takes his hat and hangs
it up) Allow me to introduce myself: I am Susanas sister.

SAVERIO. (Shyly moving his head). Delighted, Im sure. Wheres Miss Susana?

LUISA. Do come in. Im afraid you wont be able to see Susana. (Indicating PEDRO). This is
Doctor Pedro.

PEDRO. (Shaking SAVERIOs hand) How do you do?

SAVERIO. Nice to meet you. Miss Susana asked me to call in to talk about the privatisation
scheme.

PEDRO. Yes, so I was informed. You would like to become the main supplier for the local
schools.

SAVERIO. Do you think I stand any chance?

LUISA. Im sorry, Saverio. This is probably not a good time for business.
SAVERIO. (Missing the point) But my milk is top quality, mam. I can supply as much as you
like. Straight from the cow: no additives nor nothing.

LUISA. The thing is...

SAVERIO. (Interrupting) Additives are an important issue in the dairy business. Children
have very sensitive stomachs. Only last year there was a big scandal about fresh milk being
mixed with returns that was past its sell-by-date.

LUISA. Im sorry that this is such an inconvenient moment to talk about such matters.
Theres no easy way to say this, Saverio, but were in the midst of a family crisis here.

SAVERIO. Im so sorry. May I ask I dont mean to pry....

LUISA. Of course. Its my little sister Susana

SAVERIO. Susana? Whats wrong with her?

PEDRO. Completely lost her senses. Gone totally doolally.

SAVERIO. (Taking a breath) Mad? But, thats impossible. I was here only yesterday and she

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 seemed as sane as you or I.

LUISA. Well, you know how it is. These things can happen to anyone.

SAVERIO. But its so unexpected.

PEDRO. Well, see for yourself. There she is, staring into the garden.

Through the door Susana can be seen, her back to the audience, looking out into the garden.

PEDRO. Lets watch her. We can all hide here.

PEDRO, SUSANA and SAVERIO hide. SUSANA turns round. She is down stage, her hair
loose on her shoulders, dressed in mens clothes. She walks fearfully, moving her hands
as if she was pushing aside lianas and branches.

SUSANA. (With melancholy) These bearded trees clad in silence. (Stooping to the floor and
examining it) Their shadows seem a canopy most fatal. No trace of mortal man. (Raising her
arms and in a ringing tone) Oh ye Gods! Why have you abandoned me? Fiends of hell, why
dost thou haunt me? I wander defenceless in this green Inferno. Fate! Wouldst thou pity me? I
sleep defenceless in this hostile place.

Drums are heard.

... The drums, the drums! Always the sinister beat of the soldiers drums. Where is my
body-guard? Gone, gone, since I left the palace. (Holding her head) Its so heavy... this poor
head of mine. Little song-bird (looking around sadly)! Why dost thou look at me like that?
Dost thou pity me? The falling dew is cold and chill, And no bird sings in Arcady. How can
my misfortune harm you? (In desperation.) Peace, peace! Have pity on me! If you can
command these elements to silence! Every animal in Gods kingdom has a sanctuary where
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 it can rest its tired head! Everybody but me, the fugitive of injustice, the victim of a
tyrannical Colonel.

The drums are is heard again, though more distant.

(SUSANA surveys the landscape.) They are trying to trick me. A tree! But could I climb high
enough? I would tear my hands. (She pretends to be touching a trunk) How rough is the
bark. (She drops to the ground, her back leaning against one of the legs of a garden table.)
Nameless, unspeakable fears crowding in on me! Who will show pity to an unknown
outlaw, chaste and pure as I am. Even the wild beasts seem to understand that. They
respect my virtue. (She stands up) Get a grip on yourself, girl! Theres no cave the Colonels
soldiers have not searched. (She pretends to lift a shrub) Three nights I have slept in the
jungle (she holds her aching foot), if we could call such a state sleep: exhaustion, rather,
disturbed time and again by the roaring of the beasts of the jungle, the whistling of snakes
that drive even the moon mad? (Taking her hands to her aching head) Oh, when will this
torture end!

SCENE VI

JUAN and SUSANA

JUAN (enters, dressed casually, and put his hand on SUSANAs shoulder) Shhhh! Everythings
all right, Susana.

SUSANA. (With a violent start) Susana? Whos Susana? And who are you?

JUAN. Lets sit down. (He points out a chair) The logs will do for a seat

SUSANA. For Gods sake, answer me! Who are you? What do you want?

JUAN (Hesitating, as if hed forgotten his part) Sorry... Ive just realised that you are a
woman a woman dressed as a man.

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 103

 SUSANA. But why did you call me Susana?

JUAN. Did I call you Susana? You must be mistaken. Why should I have called you Susana?

SUSANA (Sarcastically) So you work for the Colonel too?

JUAN. (Pretending surprise) The Colonel? What Colonel?

SUSANA. (Placing her hand on her bosom) Thats a relief!. I can see you dont know the
cause of my fear. (Smiling) What a fool I am! I should have realised from your leather
chaps! You must be the local shepherd.

JUAN. Yes, yes... I am the shepherd.

SUSANA. You dont look much like a shepherd, not the sort you see in the engravings.
Where is your crook and your flute?

JUAN. Now is not the time for playing the flute.

SUSANA. (Standing and looking him up and down). Youre not bad looking, you know. You
remind me of Tarzan (To herself) Well built. (Shakes her head sadly) Youd better go back to
the woods where you came from.

JUAN. I dont see any need to.

SUSANA. (Tragically) Ive just had the most dreadful vision. (Prophetically) I see you lying
on the marble steps of my palace, with seven swords thrust through your heart.

JUAN. (Hitting his biceps boastfully) Seven swords, did you say, miss? Just let them try!
Anybody who comes after me, Ill knock them down.

SUSANA. Thats the spirit! You super-heroes have such a way with words. (Serious) Poor
young man. Could you hide me in your cabin in the woods for a few days?

JUAN. My cabin in the woods? But youd hate it there. Its much too simple for a fine lady
like yourself.

SUSANA. Dont you worry. I wont disturb you. I need to do some serious thinking. (Sitting
down) Im so tired... My life is such a mess these days. (To herself) Everything around me
seems like a dream. Tell me, are you married?

JUAN. No, mam.

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 SUSANA. Any lady friends?

JUAN. Mam, I am a gentleman!

SUSANA. I am glad to hear it (She paces to and fro). That simplifies the question. Women
upset everything. Let me look into your eyes. (She leans to him) Youre smiling. Yet, I see a
trace of fear at the back of your eyes. (Sarcastically) Youre not sure which side youre on,
are you?

JUAN. Please, Susana!

SUSANA There you are... You did it again...Who is this Susana? A girlfriend?

JUAN. (Hesitating) Im sorry. My mistake. Its just you remind me of a shepherdess who
used to live round here. Her name was Susana.

SUSANA. Shhhhh! One of the Colonels spies might be listening?

JUAN. We would have heard the dogs.

SUSANA. Can you keep a secret?

JUAN. Of course, mam.

SUSANA. (Shaking her head in desperation) Better not helping me would be to sign your
own death warrant. I am a monster dressed up as a mermaid. Listen to me my dear
shepherd, and whoever is out there spying on me, run away from here. Get away while
theres still time.

JUAN. (Beating his biceps.) Let them come! Ill ram their teeth down their throats!

SUSANA. I doubt it. You have a noble soul. Childish. (She paces undecided stopping before
him) Your eyes dont lie. The smoothness of your brow testifies to your innocence. Youre
not one to go out looking for trouble, are you, or getting innocent people caught up in your
mess?

JUAN. (Stammering) Of course not, maam. I am an honest man.

SUSANA. And no girlfriend. Perfect. Do you know who I am?

JUAN. Not yet, maam.

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 105

 SUSANA. Hold on tight, this will surprise you.

JUAN. Im all ears. Nothing you say could surprise me.

SUSANA. It will. I am Queen Bragatiana.

JUAN. The queen? Dressed as a man? Alone in the woods?

SUSANA. Quite a surprise, isnt it.

JUAN. It certainly is.

SUSANA. So I imagine, my dear shepherd. Its not every day that a shepherd runs into a
dethroned queen.

JUAN. Im honoured.

SUSANA. Can you now understand the extent of the disgrace?

JUAN. Your Majesty! I see but I cannot believe.

SUSANA. You call me majesty. Am I dreaming? What a pleasure! Its been so long since last I
heard the word!

JUAN. (Kneeling down) Your Majesty, allow me to kiss your hand.

SUSANA gives it to him making an exaggerated gesture of pleasure.

SUSANA. (Emphatically) Shepherd, I demand to reward you for the pleasure you have given
me. I hereby confer on you the rank and title of count.

JUAN. (Reverently) Your Majesty, your obedient servant.

SUSANA. I will call you the Count of the Flowering Tree, because your soul is like a fragrant
tree. All those who shelter under your shade become impregnated with your perfume.

JUAN. I am touched by your praises, Your Majesty. I am speechless at your misfortune.

SUSANA. (Melancholic) My dilemma perplexes you, doesnt it? When I see myself reflected
in the silvery mirror of a bubbling stream in the clumsy garb of a tramp I cannot help but
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 106
 wonder: how can it be possible that a queen born and bred should be compelled to beg for
mercy in the woods, a fugitive from a revolution plotted by a rebel Colonel and a party of
agitated shop-keepers?

JUAN. Then it is all the fault of the Colonel?

SUSANA (Angrily) And the shop-keepers, Count, dont forget the shop-keepers. This
revolution is not the peoples revolution, but a conspiracy of grocers and market-traders
who proclaim that men are descended from the apes mixed in with a couple of Spaniards
with large overdrafts. You dont understand politics, but let me tell even my loyalist friends
had to kowtow to their claptrap. Even as we speak they are awaiting my return. In order to
save my life, I was forced to flee, dressed in a maids uniform and dragged down an
underground passage like a hunted vixen.

JUAN. Enough to terrify the wife of a coal-heaver let alone an innocent young girl.

SUSANA. How can I describe my escape, Count? A thousand times my virtue was
imperilled. What lies and sophistries I was obliged to spin.

JUAN. But Majesty, you did escape unscathed?

SUSANA. Fortunately, I was protected by the Virgin Mary. I had a small print of her about
my person. (She takes it from her bosom and kisses it. Changing her tone of voice.) How
would you like to?

JUAN. How would you like to what? Majesty?

SUSANA. How would you like to cut off the Colonels head?

JUAN. (Taken by surprise) Cut off the Colonels head? But whats he done to me?

SUSANA. (Letting her head fall, discouraged) I knew I couldnt trust you. I thought: the
Count will go straight to the Dragons cave and with his sword will sever the head of the
wicked Colonel from his body. We shall celebrate a Colonelicide in the Palace. I can
picture it now. You are striding forward along a path of roses... bearing a shiny tray of gold
on which the Colonels dishevelled head oozes blood and gore. Can you imagine the sheer
beauty of such a scene, shepherd? The most delightful of my ladies-in-waiting will run to
greet you. Hark! The violins are striking up. A hundred heralds proclaim your arrival on
silver trumpets: the Count of the Flowering Tree. The sheer beauty of it!

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 JUAN. Oh, if its all a matter of trust and aesthetics, theres no earthly reason why I
shouldnt chop off the Colonels head.

SUSANA. Thats more like it!

JUAN. (Naively) The Colonel wont be very pleased though, will he?

SUSANA. Dont be silly, Count! Nobody likes having their head severed from their body.

JUAN. Couldnt we just try to reason with him? Its good to talk.

SUSANA. Such youthful naivet! Its quite obvious to me that youve spent the best years of
your life tending the sheep-dip. Even a mule would be more amenable to reason.

JUAN. Is he so difficult?

SUSANA. Impossible! People say hes got the heart of a lion, the brains of a donkey! (The
drums are heard again) Listen! Whats that?

JUAN. The drums again.

SUSANA. The soldiers are searching for me. We must be away, Count.

JUAN. My cabin is this way, Majesty. Theyll never find us there. (Both exit.)

SCENE VII

SAVERIO, LUISA, and PEDRO enter slowly, then JUAN.

LUISA. It breaks your heart just to hear her! What a loss! She really does think shes in the
jungle.

They sit round the table.

PEDRO. Its actually more common than you think, miss.

SAVERIO. If I hadnt seen it with my own eyes, I wouldnt have believed it. (Staring at them)
I swear I wouldnt believe it. (Naively to PEDRO) Tell me doctor, the man who was playing
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 108
 the part of the shepherd the Count is he mad as well?

PEDRO. No; he is one of Susanas cousins. He only agreed to take part because were still
trying to decide the best way to treat her.

SAVERIO. Oh! Thats clever.

LUISA. You can tell a lot from what someone with a disturbed mind is saying.

SAVERIO. Theres something frightening about madness even if youre perfectly sane.
(Pensive) Shes really determined to chop off the Generals head.

LUISA. Can I go and see Susana now.

PEDRO. Its not advisable, miss. Shes with Juan at the moment and his presence has a
calming effect on her.

SAVERIO. Do you think that kind of insanity can be cured, doctor?

PEDRO. Its too early to say. But I do have a plan Id like to try. Its been known to work in
the past. It involves recreating the patients imaginary world. In this case, the kingdom she
thinks shes lost.

SAVERIO. Is that possible?

LUISA. Oh, yes. Were going to stage the entire royal court. Most of Susanas friends have
already promised to take part.

JUAN comes in wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

JUAN. How did I do?

LUISA. (together) Very good.

JUAN. (Looking to Saverio) Mr...

LUISA. Let me introduce you to Mr. Saverio, our dairy provider...

SAVERIO. Pleased to meet you.

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 JUAN. My pleasure. (Sitting down, to LUISA) I was all right, wasnt I?

PEDRO. There were a few difficult moments. Now Juan, what we need to do is find
someone who could play the part of the Colonel.

SAVERIO. What exactly is the point of acting out this farce, doctor?

PEDRO. In a nutshell: Susanas obsession revolves round cutting off a head. It constitutes
the leitmotiv of her wandering thoughts. Our intention is to make Susana think that she
has actually witnessed the scene of Juan cutting off the Colonels head. The shock the
patient will get by seeing such a violent act should frighten her out of her delirium.

SAVERIO. But nobody is going to agree to having their head cut off even to cure
Susana.
PEDRO. Well get a head from a hospital morgue.

SAVERIO. God Almighty! How macabre!

JUAN. No, no. We cant do that. It too unhygienic. You never know what diseases these
heads are harbouring.

SAVERIO. Just think what would happen if the family got to hear about it and came to claim
it back before wed finished with it. It could be really awkward.

PEDRO. What if we used a wax head and some dye?

LUISA. Thats it, doctor. A waxwork will do just as well.

PEDRO. As a doctor, I would be inclined to use a real human head. It would be much more
realistic. In the circumstances We can make do with a wax one.

SAVERIO. Do you know what brought on her insanity?

PEDRO. Not really. Too much reading, perhaps. An anaemic trauma of the brain?

SAVERIO. Have her periods been regular?

PEDRO. (Serious) To the best of my knowledge. (LUISA covers her mouth with a
handkerchief)

SAVERIO. Begging your pardon doctor, but speaking as a layman it seems to me that theres
nothing better for someone suffering from a weak constitution than a balanced diet one
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 based on dairy products, that is. In my experience

PEDRO. There is nothing wrong with Miss Susanas general health her problems are
purely mental.

SAVERIO. Butter, for instance, is very good for the brain, doctor. However, eating
adulterated butter can give rise to all manner of

JUAN. Saverio, this really hasnt anything to do with butter...

SAVERIO. (Emphatic) Butter strengthens the nervous system, tones the muscles, and aids
digestion

PEDRO. Im sure butter is very good for you, but...

SAVERIO. (Imperturbable) The civilisation of a country is measured by their annual

consumption of butter.

LUISA. The thing is

JUAN. For goodness sake, can we stop talking about butter! What we want to know is if we
can count on you to play the part of the Colonel in our farce. Wed pay you of course.

SAVERIO. (Surprised) Me play a Colonel? But I dont like the military.

PEDRO. Youd only have to be a pretend Colonel like in a comedy at the theatre. Thats all.

SAVERIO. A comedy? What for? Wouldnt this be the perfect opportunity to try a butter-
based treatment? I can provide you with gallons of the stuff. Completely pure, no additives
of any kind. Not even much whey in it.

PEDRO. Come on, Saverio. Can we drop the subject of butter. Believe me: you cant treat
madness with solidified dairy fat.

SAVERIO. With the greatest respect, doctor, theres nothing make-believe about butter. The
world might be an illusion, but...

LUISA. Frankly, Susana never much cared for butter.

JUAN. Actually, butter used to make her sick.

PEDRO. She detested butter.

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 SAVERIO. (Triumphant, rubbing his hands) Ha! Ha! Now were getting down to the nitty-
gritty. Everythings clear now! Miss Susanas body is deficient in vitamins A and D, both
typically provided in a healthy diet by good butter.

LUISA. Are you obsessed with butter, Saverio!

SAVERIO. (Imperturbable) Statistics dont lie, miss. Listen to me for a moment. While the
average inhabitant of Argentina consumes less than two kilos of butter per annum, the
typical New Zealander packs away sixteen kilos. As for the Americans, irrespective of age,
race and gender, they consume thirteen kilos per year...

LUISA. Mr. Saverio, please, drop it! Even the thought of those butter mountains makes me
want to throw up.

SAVERIO. As you like. (Sitting down) I was only trying to be useful.

PEDRO. If you really want to help us, why not accept our little proposition?

LUISA. (Suggestively) Its not much to ask, Mr Saverio, is it?

SAVERIO. The thing is, miss, Im not an actor. Besides, Ive never liked Colonels.

JUAN. Dont you think Susanas health is worth the sacrifice?

LUISA. Id do it myself, Saverio.

PEDRO. Its almost a humanitarian act.

JUAN. Dont forget that my cousins family is, in a sense, your benefactor.

LUISA. We have been buying dairy from you for a long time now. We might not be in the
same league as the New Zealanders

SAVERIO. What about my round? If I spend all my time playing at being a Colonel, Ill lose
all my clients. Ive put so much effort into persuading them as to the benefits of a balanced
diet based on eating

PEDRO. Butter!

SAVERIO. How did you guess?.

JUAN. You dont need to give up your day job, Saverio. A few rehearsals in the evening

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 would be more than enough.

SAVERIO. And how long will the comedy last?

PEDRO. It wont last long. Weve got to catch the patient at her most delirious. Your part
will be just one scene Just the scene of the, er, beheading.

SAVERIO. Im not running any risk, am I?

LUISA. No risk whatsoever, Saverio.

SAVERIO. (Half-convinced) I dont know.... Youre putting me in a difficult

LUISA. Not at all, Saverio, not at all. You are accepting out of the goodness of your heart.

PEDRO. We were counting on you.

SAVERIO. Well

JUAN. Youre a real good sport.

PEDRO. We can get the Colonels uniform from a costumiers.

LUISA What about the sword? Oh, I can already picture it in my head.

SAVERIO. Me, too. (Rubbing his hands). Do you think Ive got the makings of a good actor?

PEDRO. How can you ask? You have the body of a natural.

JUAN. This side, his profile reminds me of Moisi.

LUISA. Would you like to stay for tea, Saverio?

SAVERIO. (Glancing at his watch) Thank you, but Im already late. I should be at the
wholesalers by now.

JUAN. Could I bring the uniform round to your home?

SAVERIO. This is my address (He writes on a card, to PEDRO). Dont forget to put a good
word in for me with the catering manager at the hospital.

PEDRO. Of couse.

SAVERIO. Miss Luisa, its been a pleasure.

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 LUISA. (Walking him to the door) Thank you very much, Saverio. I will get a friend to come
with me to the rehearsals. Its as if you were one of the family.

SAVERIO. (With his back to JUAN and PEDRO, while they shake their heads) I dont know
what to say, miss. See you soon. (He goes out; LUISA lifts her arms.)

SCENE VIII

The same, except SAVERIO, then SUSANA.

LUISA. What an angel! An angel in the shape of a tradesman.

JUAN. (Shouting) Susana, Susana, hes gone. You can come in.

SUSANA. (Entering triumphantly) How did I do? Did he fall for it?

PEDRO. Great! What an actress you are!

LUISA. I had to sit on my hands to stop myself from clapping.

SUSANA. So hes fallen for it, hook, line and sinker, has he?

JUAN. Not exactly. What I really enjoyed about your performance was the sense of
improvisation. You shift from humour to tragedy, just like that.

LUISA. (Gladly pensively) Susana! You were wonderful! There was one moment when I had
my heart right in my mouth.

PEDRO. This is going to be a right laugh!

JUAN. Well have everybody round.

LUISA. No doubt about it.

SUSANA. (Absently) Oh, this is going to be such a joke.

The three of them stare at her for a minute in admiration, while she, lost in thought,
looks away with her hands resting on the edge of the table.
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 CURTAIN

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 115

 SECOND ACT

SCENE I

A bare room. SAVERIO, dressed in the fantastical uniform of a colonel of a Centro American
pseudo-republic, faces the unmade bed. On the table, a chair. Both, table and chair are
covered by a scarlet bedspread. The colonels sword is stuck into the table. SAVERIO looks into
the mirror.

SAVERIO. (Climbing on to the throne on the table, he suddenly points with his finger while
clutching the sword) Out of my sight, you dogs! (Looking to one side) Shoot them down,
General. Thatll teach them some respect. (Smiling unctuously) My dear Minister, Im sure
this minor altercation might easily be subsumed under the responsibilities of the League of
the Nations (Charmingly, standing up) I am most obliged by the honour of your favours, my
charming marquesa. (Resuming his normal voice, sitting down) Good God! What a line!
(Grave and confidential) Your Highness, these are distressing times for prudent rulers such
as ourselves. Could not the Holy Father oblige the clergy to attend to the indoctrination of
the lower orders? (With passion, standing again) My dear madam, I assure you that the
ruler is but a colonel, the colonel is but a man, and that the man is in love with you. (In a
more vulgar tone, sitting down) Well they wanted an actor, and Ill be damned if they are
getting one!

SCENE II

SAVERIO and SIMONA.

SIMONA. (From outside) Can I come in?

SAVERIO. (Shouting) Come in!

SIMONA. (From outside) Excuse me...

SAVERIO. (shouting) Come on in!

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 116
 Simona enters, with a tray of coffee in hand, and stops in her tracks, pressing the tray
against her chest.

SIMONA. My goodness! Look at the state of those sheets and the bedspread!

SAVERIO. (commandingly) Simona, Ive been given the red carpet treatment here.

SIMONA. (standing in the middle of the room) And people call me bad-tempered, a
harridan, and a shrew! Just look at the state of those sheets. What on earth do you think
youre doing!

SAVERIO Simona, kindly show some respect to a son of Mars.

SIMONA. Mars, Venus, whatever! You dont have to wear yourself out washing them.
(Amazed) And whats that sword doing stuck in the table like that? Just you wait till the
landlady sees it! Have you gone mad?

SAVERIO (lighting a cigarette) Simona, you are an affront to my dignity as a Colonel.

SIMONA. (putting the tray on the table and adding some sugar. Sadly) At this rate Ill end my
days taking oranges to one of the tenants who was put away in an asylum after he went
barking!

SAVERIO Do you know who youre talking to, Simona!

SIMONA. (passing him the coffee) Fancy giving up a regular job for all this nonsense!

SAVERIO (getting exited) Do stop preaching! Do you know what the Americans say?
(pronouncing carefully) Dont look a gift horse in the mouth. Do you know what that
means? (SIMONA says nothing) Not a clue! Well listen here you illiterate peasant, it means
youve got to make the most of your opportunities. Do you remember that fox-trot which
had the line: I never stood a chance.(He moderates his tone) And do you remember who it
was moaning that hed never stood a chance? A young man whod been born in the United
States of America with every possible advantage. (He becomes grave) Well, I have been
given that chance, Simona, and I intend to make the most of it.

SIMONA. You may be an expert on foreign affairs, but that clownish colonel role of yours
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 117
 will do you more harm than good.

SAVERIO. Dont be so naive, Simona.

SIMONA. Just dont come running to me when it all goes wrong.

SAVERIO. (Impatiently) Youre completely in the dark about politics, arent you? You win
power for a fortnight but it takes them twenty years to get rid of you.

SIMONA. (Rubbing her eyes with her apron) You must be barking! Youre completely out of
your mind.

SAVERIO. (with authority) Simona...

SIMONA. (wiping off her eyes) What, sir?

SAVERIO. (lowering the tone) Simona, have I ever called you stupid?

SIMONA. (moved) No, sir.

SAVERIO. Youre an intelligent woman.

SIMONA. Thank you, sir.

SAVERIO. But theres always a but... (Grandiosely) History is made up of accidental events
which assume a universal significance. Unfortunately, you, a chamber maid, lack the basic
elements necessary to turn yourself into such a universal significance .

SIMONA. (to herself) What is he going on about?

SAVERIO. Lets face it, Simona, politics is not exactly your strongest suit, is it? You lack that
sense of opportunism which, in the blink of an eye, can transform a total unknown into a
leading statesman.

SIMONA. Mr Saverio, you sound just like one of those men selling snake grease in the
marketplace, but...

SAVERIO. I am talking like a populist leader, Simona.

SIMONA. Youre too ambitious, Mr Saverio. Remember the old days (To herself) I remember
them! You used to walk so much, that when you took off your shoes we had to hold our
breath. Your room smelled like a cesspit.

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 118

 SAVERIO. (angrily) You poor innocent! If Mussolini had followed your advice hed still be
laying paving stones in Switzerland and Hitler would still be scribbling poetry in a Munich
beer-keller.

SIMONA. Not everyone is invited to sit at high-table, Sr.

A voice calling for SIMONA can be heard off-stage. Exit SIMONA.. SAVERIO comes
down from the throne and sits on the edge of the bed.

SAVERIO. To hell with women! (lights dimmed)

SCENE III

For a minute, Saverio seems to be daydreaming. Suddenly, an arms-dealer approaches him.

The latter demonstrates that he is a figure of fantasy by wearing a skull mask. He is dressed
in golfing clothes, baggy trousers and a checked cap. Behind him, the caddie, a bag of clubs
on his back.

SAVERIO. (sitting up) Who are you? What do you want?

IRVING. Your Excellency, I was just about to play a few holes with the Reverend Johnson,
who is a member of the Evangelic Congress, when I suddenly said to myself: Lets mix
business with pleasure. Irving Essel is the name (handing him one of his cards), I represent
Armstrong Nobel Dynamite.

SAVERIO. Oh, so you are an arms-dealer?

IRVING. (Extracting a cigar and offering it to SAVERIO) Our civilising mission reaches to
every corner of the planet. Armstrong Power Plants, Excellency, offer assistance to fifty-
two nations. Our illustrated catalogue (Im sorry, I havent got one with me right now)
includes every single weapon of war, known and unknown, from the automatic pistol to the

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 119

 Superdreadnought.

SAVERIO. You couldnt have called at a better time. I happened to require some weapons
Tell me (he smoothes down his moustache) what credit facilities do you offer?

IRVING. Now that, in the words of Lloyd George, we have hanged the pacifists very high
and with a very short rope, we are able to provide a limited range of credit facilities.

SAVERIO. What brings you here now?

IRVING. It is a principle of ours, Excellency, to visit every Head of State at the outset of their
career. It goes without saying that we enjoy especially cordial relations with generals and
admirals. We could provide you with references, if you like.

SAVERIO. Between gentlemen, theres no need.

IRVING. (rubbing his hands together) Indeed, as you say, between gentlemen there is no
need for that (Clears his throat) Alas, gentlemen also need to earn a living. On that basis I
would like to inform you that if your country had the misfortune or the good luck to
become involved in a conflict with a neighbouring state, we would be delighted to offer you
a ten per cent discount on any weapons purchased, five per cent to the ministers and
generals and one per cent to the quality papers.

SAVERIO. A mere bagatelle.

IRVING. Exactly, Excellency; I can see we understand one another. As my great friend the
Reverend Johnson says, human nature is so fragile that the only way of luring it to the path
of virtue and duty is by keeping it sweet.

SAVERIO. Ha, ha! Mr. Irving. I see that you are a philosopher.

IRVING. The pleasure is all mine, Excellency. (He turns as he leaves) May I recommend one
of our new chemical product to you: the Violet Cross Gas. The man who invented it has just
been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Good-bye for now, Excellency.

SAVERIO. Without a shadow of doubt, the English are the most cynical on the face of the
earth. (A knock on the door, the lights go up)

SCENE IV
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 120
 ENTER PEDRO, LUISA and ERNESTINA, a lady in her twenties. .

PEDRO. Good afternoon, my friend.

SAVERIO. Good afternoon, doctor.

LUISA. You look wonderful, Saverio. This is my friend Ernestina.

SAVERIO. (shaking her hand) Pleased to meet you.

PEDRO. How dignified you look in uniform! Let me see you, turn round. (Saverio turns
round slowly)

ERNESTINA. The very latest fashion.

PEDRO. It gives him such a military air...

LUISA. You look so elegant.... The minute you step outside youll have all the girls at your
feet on Florida.

SAVERIO. Dont.

LUISA. (rascally) Dont be so modest, Saverio. (To ERNESTINA) Doesnt he look just like
Chevalier in the Parade of Love?

ERNESTINA. Thats true; Saverio, you look just like Lionel Barrymore when he was young.

SAVERIO. How amazing.

LUISA. Hasnt your girlfriend seen you dressed in uniform?

SAVERIO. (clumsily) I dont have a girlfriend, miss...

ERNESTINA. You must be a married man then with children...

PEDRO. ( looking at the catafalque SAVERIO has set up) Whats that?

SAVERIO. Thats my throne for the rehearsal.

PEDRO. (concerned) Remarkable...

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 121

 LUISA. What a genius, splendid! Didnt I tell you, Ernestina? This man is just what we need.

(Exaggerating) Saverio, we would have been lost without you?

PEDRO. Youve got everything under control, havent you?

SAVERIO. (seeing that LUISA and ERNESTINA are looking around) Let me get some chairs,
excuse me. (He leaves)

ERNESTINA. Hes raving, isnt he?

PEDRO. Poor bloke, but dont rag him so unmercifully, hell put two and two together.
(SAVERIO comes back with three chairs)

LUISA. You didnt have to.

SAVERIO. That's OK.

ERNESTINA. Thank you very much. Mr Saverio, may I ask you ... Do you find it very difficult
to get into your role as the Colonel?

LUISA. (To PEDRO) I wouldnt have missed this performance for anything.

SAVERIO. (To ERNESTINA) Its just a question of getting into the character, miss. Nowadays
we have seen so many men start from nothing and become great that it comes as no
surprise that Im now beginning to enjoy getting into the skin of a colonel.

PEDRO. You see how right I was when I asked you for help, Saverio?

LUISA. And you were saying you were anti-militarist...

PEDRO. As with everything... Its just a question of effort...

LUISA. And what were you doing when we arrived...?

SAVERIO. Rehearsing.

LUISA. (shaking her hands as a spoilt child) Why dont you rehearse now, Saverio?

ERNESTINA. Oh, yes Mr Saverio, rehearse.

SAVERIO. Well, the thing is...

PEDRO. If its convenient, Saverio. Six eyes are better than two. Speaking as a doctor...
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 122
 LUISA. Thats true. Please, please, Saverio.

ERNESTINA. You will rehearse, Saverio, wont you?

PEDRO. We could correct your mistakes.

LUISA. Improvised scenes are never good.

SAVERIO. (To PEDRO) Do you think so?

PEDRO. I do...

SAVERIO. (climbing to the throne) How is Miss Susana coming along?

LUISA. The attacks are less intense than before but very frequent...

PEDRO. Its the other way round, Saverio... The attacks come less frequently, but are very
intense...

SAVERIO. And do you really think shell ever be cured?

PEDRO. I have every hope that this farce will restore her to her senses.

SAVERIO. And if she does not get better, youve nothing to worry about. She may as well
share the throne with a Colonel.

PEDRO. Saverio, dont say that...

SAVERIO. Why not? You know political contingencies can make marriages that at first sight
seem impossible.

LUISA. Saverio... dont say that... Remember! Its my sister youre talking about...

ERNESTINA. Here is the sword, Saverio.

SAVERIO. Do I need it?

PEDRO. Course you do, its part of your character. (SAVERIO leans the sword on the table
and stands still gravely)

SAVERIO. Am I OK like this?

LUISA. (biting her handkerchief) Brilliant! Just like one of our great leaders!

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 123

 PEDRO. The sword, push it away from your body. Youll look more valiant like that.

SAVERIO. Hows this?

ERNESTINA. Perfect.

PEDRO. Breathe in, Saverio. Colonels always look martial.

SAVERIO. (standing straight, but without over doing it) I shall imagine I am here in the
throne-room turning away my politic enemies: (louder) Go away, you bastards.

ERNESTINA. (splitting her sides laughing) We cant hear you. Louder, Saverio, louder.

PEDRO. Yes, put some more passion into it.

SAVERIO. (wielding the sword energetically) Piss off, you bastards...

SCENE V

Suddenly, a door opens and, with all the authority of a policeman, the landlady stops in the
middle of the room

LANDLADY. What do you think youre doing in my house? Look at the state of that
bedspread.

SAVERIO. Kindly do not disturb us, madam, Im rehearsing.

PEDRO. Ill pay for anything that gets damaged.

LANDLADY. (without looking at PEDRO) And who are you supposed to be? (To SAVERIO)
You can find yourself a room somewhere else for this nonsense. Are you listening to me?
(She leaves slamming the door)

LUISA. What an impolite old lady.

ERNESTINA. What a temper!

SAVERIO. You should see her when shes roused! (Contemptuously) No better than a
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 124
 fishwife.

PEDRO. Lets continue.

SAVERIO.(To PEDRO) Would you lock the door, doctor? (PEDRO does as hes told and
rejoins the group.)

ERNESTINA. Where were we?

SAVERIO. At the palace ball. My dialogue with the shy lady I meet there: Marchioness,
your president is but a colonel, the colonel is but a man. It is the man who loves you

LUISA. Beautiful, Saverio! How moving!

ERNESTINA. Excellent, Saverio. It reminds me of a line by Ruben Dario spoken by the

Marchioness Eulalia.

PEDRO. You sound just like a real gentleman.

ERNESTINA. Listening to you, nobody would guess youre nothing more than the boy who
delivers the milk.

LUISA. What if Susana falls in love with you when shes cured?

SAVERIO. In this next scene Im receiving a visit from a papal legate. I think I should use a
different tone, something less frivolous. Gentle but serious.

LUISA. Certainly.

SAVERIO. What do you think to this: Eminence, these are pitiless times were living in.
Even the most prudent ruler cannot but help feel distressed by them. Could we not suggest
to the Holy Father that the teachings of the Church concerning the duties owed by errant
workers to his employers will help combat Communism.

PEDRO. (Gleefully) I like your political sentiments, Saverio. You have a marvellous ethical
sensibility.

LUISA. Your support for law and order does you justice, Saverio.

ERNESTINA. Oh! If all rulers were like you!

SAVERIO.(lowering his voice) Did it feel right?

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 125

 PEDRO. Very much so.

LUISA. Excellent. This is all much better than we expected.

SAVERIO. Im glad.

PEDRO. It couldnt be better.

SAVERIO. (taking off his military cap) By the way! Just before you came in I was thinking
about a little detail that has escaped us all.

PEDRO. Go on.

SAVERIO. You dont have any friends in the War Arsenal, do you?

LUISA. No (To PEDRO and ERNESTINA) What about you?

PEDRO and ERNESTINA (together) No, we dont either. Why?

SAVERIO. We are going to need some explosives and anti-craft cannons.

PEDRO. (astonished) Anti-craft cannons!

SAVERIO. Apart from some other single-shot rifles, machine guns, a launcher for gas
grenades, and a flame-thrower.

LUISA. What on earth do we need all that for?

SAVERIO. Miss Luisa, who is in control here?

PEDRO. (conciliatory) You are Saverio, but its only a farce.

SAVERIO. Lets be clear about this ...it is a farce for the others...but its real for us.

LUISA. I dont get you, Saverio.

PEDRO. Lets keep calm, everything will be OK. Tell me something, Saverio: You are a
colonel in the artillery, OK? Infantry or cavalry?

SAVERIO. (surprised) Oh, I hadnt thought about that.

ERNESTINA. Come on, Pedro. An artillery colonel is not very poetic!

LUISA. Thats hardly what Susana would want, is it?

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 PEDRO. As a doctor, Saverio, I have to tell you that Susanas colonel is a cruel but a
charming man.

LUIS. For the record, in films you have to be a colonel in the cavalry to be a romantic lead.

SAVERIO. Im sorry to disappoint you, miss, but in modern warfare the cavalry hardly
counts for anything these days.

ERNESTINA. Im not sure, Saverio. An officer in the cavalry is still every womans ideal
lover.

LUISA. The sound of galloping hooves, the mane swaying in the breeze

SAVERIO. Well, that solves the artillery problem. Personally, Id still rather be in the army!
(There is a knock on the door)

SCENE VI

SAVERIO, PEDRO, LUISA and ERNESTINA. SIMONA enter.

SAVERIO. Come in.

SIMONA. There are two men at the door, theyve got something for you.

PEDRO. Shall we leave you?

SAVERIO. Just the opposite, its good that youre here. (To SIMONA whos looking around)
Show those men in (She leaves. SAVERIO places the table against the back wall.)

SCENE VII

Four men dressed as mechanics following SIMONA into the room. They are holding some
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 horizontal wooden supports, and an object covered with plastic bags. The others look at each
other in surprise. The men leave the load in the space left vacant by the table was,
symmetrically placed so that the red throne on the back serves as frame.

MAN 2. Could you sign here? (He hands SAVERIO a receipt which he signs. SAVERIO tips
them, the men say goodbye and leave. SIMONA remains still, arms folded)

SAVERIO. You can go now, Simona. (SIMONA leaves reluctantly)

SAVERIO (closes the door, then approaches the object) Ladies, my good doctor, you will, I
hope, congratulate me for my foresight. Just look at this beauty! (He uncovers the object,
the others gathering closer. When they realise the hidden object is a guillotine they
collectively step back a pace.)

LUISA. My goodness! What is it?

SAVERIO. (with emphasis) A guillotine, of course.

PEDRO. (dismayed) A guillotine? Whatever for, Saverio?

SAVERIO. (surprised) What do you mean whatever for? What do you think you use a
guillotine for?

ERNESTINA. (scared) Good Lord! The mans a homicidal maniac!

SAVERIO. How can you expect to rule without chopping off some heads!

ERNESTINA. Well, really!

PEDRO. Do we really need to go to such extremes?

SAVERIO. (laughing) Doctor, dont tell me you are one of those innocents who still believe
in the myth of parliamentary democracies!

ERNESTINA. (pulling PEDROs arm) Lets go, Pedro. Its getting late.

PEDRO. Saverio... I dont know what to say. Well talk about it later.
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 SAVERIO. Please stay. Ill show you how it works. First, you pull this rope...

PEDRO. Another time, Saverio. (The guests start edging towards the door)

SAVERIO. We could fix the guillotine in the back of a truck and offer a door to door service.

ERNESTINA. (opening the door) Good night, Saverio. (They leave)

SAVERIO. (running after them) Dont forget the gloves and the hat (Silence)

SCENE VIII

SAVERIO, thoughtful, comes back into the room. He paces up and down silently before the
guillotine. He looks at it, pats it as if it was an animal.

SAVERIO. Miserable idiots. Theyre backing out. Thats the worst of the middle class.
Therere always like that. They lack that natural bloodthirstiness of the aristocracy.
(Rubbing his hands in a familiar but pompous manner) Thats all right, ladies and
gentlemen. Well organise the terror without them. That we will. (He paces to and fro in
silence, suddenly stopping as if he had heard voices. He cups his ear)

SCENE IX

Suddenly several difference voices coming from various loudspeakers can be heard in turn.
SAVERIO listens carefully and nods.

LOUDSPEAKER 1. Extra, extra: Saverio, the cruel, is playing an underhand game with the

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 League of Nations.

SAVERIO. Good publicity. The proletariat admires cruelty in a dictator.

LOUDSPEAKER 2. International news from The Radio Herald: Saverio rejects summit with
great powers. Foreign ministers refuse to comment on despots conduct.

LOUDSPEAKER 3. (long siren call, beams from spotlights cross the stage. SAVERIOs shadow)
News from the Radio Voice. Breaking news. Dictator Saverios conduct has caused a break
down in international cooperation. General confusion among the Ministries of Foreign
Affairs. Will Saverio declare war? (Voices stop, spotlights go off. SAVERIO paces silently)

SAVERIO. This is a time for political caution. (Gravely) Heads will roll for this one after
another. (He pats the guillotine. Starts changing his uniform quickly. There is a knock on the
door as he fastens his trousers. He spreads a sheet over the guillotine immediately) Come in.

SCENE X

SAVERIO and SIMONA enter.

SIMONA. I have to make the bed (Takes the sheets from the table as SAVERIO is getting
ready in front of the mirror) Just look at these foot marks! (Showing him a sheet.) You
should be ashamed! (Shaking the sheet)

SAVERIO. (irritated) What? (Turns round brusquely) Simona, in spite of your peasant
patina, deep down youre an intelligent woman.

SIMONA. (resentfully) What...?

SAVERIO. Ive had an idea, Simona.

SIMONA. Look at this bedspread. It was brand new.

SAVERIO I was thinking of giving up my milk round, but Ive decided to hang on to it now.

SIMONA. Thats the first sensible thing youve said..

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 SAVERIO Ill ask for a few days off.

SIMONA. (without turning her head, still making the bed) Good for you.

SAVERIO. (patting her on the back and picking up his hat) Yes, sweetie, for it is written in
the Bible: Thou be cunning like the snake and candid like the dove. Adios, beautiful lady.
(He leaves, while SIMONA shakes her head. She makes the bed.)

CURTAIN.

THIRD ACT

Dark red room. Lateral doors. In the foreground, on the carpeted platform, a throne. A few
lights. The windows are open. In the background, the moon hovers over the trees. Guests
move about, chatting, dressed in XVIII century costumes.

SCENE I

PEDRO, JUANA, ERNESTO, DIONISIA, ERNESTINA, LUISA and DEMETRIO.

PEDRO. (to JUANA) This is what I call a party!

JUANA. Do I look all right?

PEDRO. Beautiful.

ERNESTO. How do you like my helmet?

JUANA. You look like a warthog.

DIONISIA. (to JUANA) My goodness this Saverios really making us work hard, isnt he!

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 SCENE II

Same, JUAN, ROBERTO and MARIA.

JUAN. (enters dressed as a shepherd from a print, half-naked, with a goat skin wrapped
around his waist) Gather round, you fellows! (They stand around him)

JUANA. (to JUAN) Do you really have to chop off the colonels head?

JUAN. Yes.

PEDRO. Weve got the head. (pointing to a lateral door)

ERNESTINA. This pot is in the way. (pushes it to one side)

LUISA. It feels like a proper carnival. We only need some steamers.

DEMETRIO. (to LUISA) Is it true that the guy has a guillotine at home?

LUISA. Ask Ernestina.

ROBERTO. (dressed in an armour) Damn! This is really uncomfortable! (He tears off his
moustache and puts it in his pocket)

LUISA. (To JUAN) Wheres Susana?

JUAN. Shes getting ready.

PEDRO. Ill go and check if Saverio is on his way.

ERNESTINA. What if he doesnt show up?

LUISA. Dont even think about it.

SCENE III

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 SUSANA comes in through the door that leads to the throne. She is dressed like the
protagonist of a classical tragedy, with a tunic made of fur and sandals. Her hair is loose.
Shes looks sinister: gaunt face, pale skin.

SUSANA. How do I look, friends?

The music stops

EVERYBODY. (Together) Wonderful.

JUAN. (Jumping on to the platform) Ladies and gentlemen. May I have your attention, I
wont take long. I am delighted to introduce you to the author of the tragedy which has
become the greatest hoax ever concocted in Buenos Aires. Good people, we in BA are
pastmasters of pulling each others legs. If my memory serves me right, the late Jos
Ingenieros and his friends used to throw parties like this. But they never pulled off a hoax
which was a patch on this one. Let me introduce to you the brain behind all this: the young
lady standing beside me, as delicate a creature as you could hope to meet.

VOICES. Three cheers for Susana.

VOICES. Speech, speech! (JUAN climbs down from the platform)

SUSANA. (Goes to the front of the platform. Silence) It is not wise for an author to speak in
anticipation of the events which are about to take place. I can only say that the
denouement will greatly appeal to you. (Steps down. Applause. The group breaks up into
smaller units, chatting)

LUIS. Pull your hair back a bit more.

SUSANA. How do I look?

ERNESTO. Like the heroine of a tragedy.

DIONISIA. If you do it right, youll turn everybodys blood cold.

DEMETRIO. You look as if youre possessed by the devil.

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 ERNESTINA. Juan looks really perfect in that goat skin, doesnt he?

JUAN. (Joining the group. To SUSANA) What if Saverio doesnt turn up?

SUSANA. He will, dont worry.

DEMETRIO. Wheres Julia? I havent seen her.

SUSANA. (Ironically) Julia is too serious to take part in slapstick.

DEMETRIO. What if you and the milkman end up getting married?.

SUSANA. (Irritated) Dont be so stupid!

DEMETRIO. (Turning round and winking) Susana, you look as white as a ghost.

SUSANA. (Coldly) Ive put on too much make up.

JUAN. Youre not afraid of the Colonel, are you?

MARIA. What if he tries to cut her head off? (To the others) At least well be here to protect
you, wont we?

DEMETRIO. I hope Saverio carts his guillotine over here tonight. I think Ill split my sides.

JUAN. (To SUSANA) Dont worry, weve replaced his sword with one made of paste.

SUSANA. Thats reassuring!

PEDRO.(Ironic) Youre enjoying yourself now, arent you?

DIONISIA. What about you? I think youre the one whos enjoying it the most.

ERNESTINA. We should fetch Julia.

SUSANA. (Lively) No, please, not that. Leave her alone.

JUAN. (Looking around) Can I say something? Theres one thing I forgot in my little speech.
Do you know what this scene reminds me of? That chapter in Don Quixote when Sancho
appoints himself Governor of the Baratiana Island.

DEMETRIO. Thats true. And we are the crazy dukes.

JUAN. (winking at everybody) OK. So which of us is insane now?

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 EVERYBODY. (forming a circle around SUSANA, pointing at her with their fingers) Susana.

SUSANA. (kindly) I dont mind being mad because this way I can manipulate people like
puppets.

JUAN. (Putting up his arm) Were all mad here, but the most incurable case hasnt arrived
yet. Hes making us wait. Hes making Susana wait. (Turning to the others) Because Susana
is in love with the milkman. She loves him tenderly, deeply, passionately!

SUSANA. (Faking a laugh) How utterly charming!

JUAN. (exited) But I also love Susana. So far, she has turned a deaf ear to my good works.
She is following her own dark and solitary path.

EVERYBODY. (All together) Good, good.

JUAN. Thats it. I cant remember what I wanted to say.

LUISA.. So, is Saverio coming or not?

DEMETRIO. It looks as if hes not coming.

ERNESTINA. (To Pedro) Why dont you go and wait for him at the station?

SCENE IV

The same and the MAID, who then leaves with SUSANA.

MAID. If you please, miss, Saverio has arrived.

SUSANA. I must go. Dont mess things up! (SUSANA and the MAID leave silently)

JUAN. This is wonderful. And do you know why its wonderful? Because I can smell blood
in the air. (Laughing) Somebody will pay for this with their life.

ERNESTINA. I hate it when you talk like that! I sometimes think youre a savage!

JUAN. Cant you smell blood?

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 VOICES. Shut up...

JUAN. Dont say I didnt tell you. But I can feel it in my bones.

LUISA. Do you want us to write it down?

SCENE V

Same and the MAID, then SAVERIO and PEDRO

MAID. Mr Saverio is here (She goes out).

JUAN. Just dont muck it up.

SAVERIO enters into the room followed by PEDRO. The guests move aside instinctively.
SAVERIO walks with a military gait. He does not greet anyone. He imposes respect.

JUAN. (Goes to the centre of the room) Mr Saverio, the head is in the next room. (Points to
the door)

SAVERIO Youre playing the shepherd, arent you?

JUAN. Yes, sir.

SAVERIO You can go now. (JUAN leaves puzzled. SAVERIO climbs to the throne and has a
look at the guests, who are also looking at him) Ladies and Gentlemen, when you are ready,
the farce can begin. (To PEDRO) Tell the orchestra to strike up. (PEDRO leaves)

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 SCENE VI

SAVERIO sits on the throne; a waltz begins. SAVERIO, pensive, looks at the couples dancing
before him as they turn their heads to look back at him.

HERALD (entering at the back of the room, wearing knee-length trousers, playing a silver
trumpet. The audience splits into two groups.) Her Majesty, Queen Bragatiana, wishes an
audience.

SAVERIO. (without getting up) Show her in.

SUSANA. (majestically walks between the two groups) I hope the dukes are enjoying
themselves. (SAVERIO still pensive and cold) While your fugitive queen suffers in unknown
lands, just look at them...dancing! Very well! (Slowly) What do we have here? No fury
beasts but elegant hearts of steel. The Colonel is plunged in thought. (SAVERIO does not
turn his head to look at her) You see that? He doesnt even look at me. Hes not listening.
(Suddenly and angry) You are a wicked man, Colonel! Look me in the face!

SAVERIO (To the guests) I regret honourable dukes, that the manners of your queen are not
very queenlike.

SUSANA. (Ironic) You miserable cur! Despite your impeccable manners, convince me that
you havent stolen my throne! (Pathetically) You have destroyed the paradise of an
innocent maiden. Where roses used to bloom yesterday, I hear only the murderous grating
of iron today.

SAVERIO. Your Majesty has a talent for literature.

SUSANA. The Colonel calls abused innocence literature! Look at me, honourable dukes. Pity
me. Are these rags fit for a queen? Where are the hand-maidens who used to garland my
hair with flowers? I seek them in vain. And what about my friends? Where are my sweet
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 friends now. (Turns her head) I cant see them either. (Naive) Would they be at home, by
the side of their husbands, safe in the company of their children? (With terror) No. Theyre
rotting in jail. The Colonels agents are plotting their downfall. (Sardonic) Why else wont
the Colonel look at me? Because it is hard to be confronted with ones own crime! (She
places her hand on her forehead. She remains silent for a moment. She runs both hands over
her cheeks) Living in exile is not easy to endure! To lose ones home land is hard! Quaking
like a leaf at the lightest breeze is hard. I see the peasants working in the vineyards and
hear young women singing by the fountains, but I cannot stop tears rolling down my
cheeks. Im the most wretched woman on this earth! And who is to blame for all this?
(Pointing at him) There he sits! Cold. As suspicious as the Trojan Horse. While he lies in a
comfortable bed, I, just like a hungry wolf, prowl about the roadsides. .I have no husband to
protect me, no children to shelter in my bosom and nourish.

SAVERIO (Still cold) Without a doubt, madam, children are a great comfort.

SUSANA. Do you hear? (begging) Can nobody else see through him? Children are a great
consolation! Tell us, you evil little man: were you a comfort to the woman who gave birth
to you? What kind of poisonous being furnish your evil instincts? Speak! What wet nurse
fed you with sour milk?

SAVERIO (Always cold and indifferent) These are matters of state.

SUSANA. (Violently) I couldnt care less about the State! A manufacturer of misfortunes,
thats what your state is! Have I asked for your advice? I was dancing with my friends in
the fields to the sound of the violins... How long ago it seems! Did my advisers summon
you? Did I ask you to mend my laws, make my decrees? You say nothing. Your silence is
your shield, Colonel. Youve got the nerve of a leader, the stupidity of a raw recruit. But that
does not signify. (Gently) I have lost everything. Now the only thing I want from you is an
answer, Colonel. Thats all I ask. Why dont you talk to me? Why do you sit there convicted
by your own silence?

SAVERIO (Standing up) I will tell you why I havent spoken. The other day your sister Julia
called on me. She informed me of the hoax you have plotted with your friends. Im sure you
can understand why I cannot take all this nonsense seriously. (Everybody steps back as if
theyve been slapped in the face. Deadly silence. SAVERIO sits down, impassively)

SUSANA. (addressing the guests) I beg you all to leave me alone. I must apologise to this

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 man. (Looking down, the guests file out in silence)

SCENE VII

SAVERIO and SUSANA

SUSANA. What a dirty trick youve played on me, Saverio, but its only fair. (She sits down by
the throne, pensive) All these lights and tapestries. And here I am, sitting at your feet
looking like a poor tramp. (Looking up to SAVERIO) Are you comfortable on your throne,
Colonel? Must be nice having the world revolving at your feet?

SAVERIO (Standing up) I am leaving.

SUSANA. (Getting up suddenly, she clutches him by the arm) Oh, no, dont go, please. Come
here... Let us look at the moon. (She walks with him to the window, holding him by the arm)
Isnt this spectacle moving, Colonel?

SAVERIO (Dryly) Why do you insist on carrying on with the farce?

SUSANA. (Honestly) I like being alone with you, just the two of us. (Laughing) Is it true that
you commissioned a guillotine? That is really wonderful. You are as mad as I am. (SAVERIO
lets go of her hand, sits down on the throne and remains pensive. SUSANA stays standing)

SUSANA. Why are you not listening to me? Do you want me to go down on my knees? (She
gets on her knees) The crazy princess gets on her knees before the pale, unhappy man.
(SAVERIO does not look at her. She stands up) Are you listening to me, Colonel?

SAVERIO. I have been warned by Julia, your sister.

SUSANA. Julia, Julia! What does she know about dreams? But you, you really are a dreamer.
Fancy having a guillotine made? Is the blade sharp?

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 SAVERIO. It is.

SUSANA. And arent you happy to remain a dreamer?

SAVERIO. Happy? I used to be happy.

SUSANA. What! Selling milk and butter?

SAVERIO. (Angry) Yes, being a milkman. (Getting exited) In those days I believed I was
powerful enough to carry out all my wishes. And that strength came from the milk and
butter.

SUSANA. Did you drink that much milk?

SAVERIO. I had to work so bloody hard to earn my living that I ended up overtaxing myself.

SUSANA. And now you are mad at me?

SAVERIO. Youre not the problem. Youre a shadow filled with words. You turn on the light
and the shadow disappears.

SUSANA. Touch me... youll realise Im not a shadow.

SAVERIO. There was a time when I used to think that dramas could banish reality. But now
I have learned that a hundred ghosts do not make up a living man. Listen to me, Susana:
before I met you and your friends I was a happy man. I went back to my little room at night
totally worn out. My customers can be hard work, theyre not sympathetic. Some find the
milk too thick, some too thin. In spite of that, I was content. My brains and legs were all
part of my livelihood. When you invited me to take part in this farce, as my dreams have
hitherto always been modest, it transformed my sensibility into a seething cauldron. It
changed my life. (Silence)

SUSANA. Go on, Saverio.

SAVERIO. It is so sad to analyse a broken dream! I no longer wanted to be a butterfly but a

vulture. Nothing but being a dictator would suffice me. (Leaves the throne and paces
nervously) Do you understand?

SUSANA. It was only a joke...

SAVERIO. (Laughing) Dont be naive. My drama consists in having understood, having

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 understood...that I am not built to be a Colonel, not even to play the role of a Colonel. Isnt
that tragic? The set cannot fool me any longer. I dreamed to be like Hitler, like Mussolini.
Now I understand that Im nothing but an idiot.

SUSANA. That is the tragedy of your life.

SAVERIO. (Sarcastic) That is it. Simona was so right.

SUSANA. Who is Simona?

SAVERIO. She is the maid of my landlady. She was absolutely right when she warned me:
Mr Saverio, dont leave the milk business. Mr Saverio, people in this country are drinking
it more and more. It sounds funny to you. It might be ridiculous to compare selling milk
with a dictatorship. Anyway...whats done is done... I didnt know what my own strengths
were and I tried to live a dream.

SUSANA. What about me, Saverio? Could I ever mean anything to you?

SAVERIO. You? Youre just a monster.

SUSANA. (Taking a step back) Dont say that.

SAVERIO. You are. A woman capable of coldly plotting such a farce, that woman is a wild
beast. You cannot be hurt by anybody or anything.

SUSANA. My farce was only a way of getting to know you.

SAVERIO. Thats nonsense (Pacing)

SUSANA. That was the only way of measuring how much you liked me. I was looking for a
man who could live a great dream.

SAVERIO. You are mistaken. You were not dreaming. You were mocking. Theyre totally
different things.

SUSANA. Saverio, dont be cruel!

SAVERIO. If somebody had told me a fortnight ago that there was a woman capable of
plotting a joke like this, I would have been happy to meet her. Today, your capacity for
pretence has turned against you. Who would trust you? Theres something repulsive about
you.

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 SUSANA. Saverio, be careful, dont say such unpleasant things.

SAVERIO. You and your friends are but the dregs of life. Could there be something worse
that the indifference with which you laughed at a nobody?

SUSANA. Thats horrible.

SAVERIO. Are you blaming me? I was the one who has been made a fool of.

SUSANA. I really regret it, Saverio. You do believe me, dont you?

SAVERIO. (Coldly) May be, may be not. Youll soon be hatching the next one. Your lack of
scruple is beyond belief. You only seek to satisfy your whims. Me, on the other hand, youve
destroyed me.

SUSANA. What are you going to do?

SAVERIO. What do you think Ill do? Ill go back to my old job.

SUSANA. Dont reject me, Saverio. Dont be unfair. Try to face it. How else can an innocent
young girl get to know the heart of the man she wants to marry?

SAVERIO. Here we go again.

SUSANA. Do you think it was so ridiculous? Its the ends that matter, not the means.
Saverio, you havent played your part gracefully, but I havent either. Go and ask the others
what they think of a woman who can plot a farce like this? Youll see what they say.
(SAVERIO sits on the throne, tired) You look tired! (SAVERIO rests his head on his hands
with his elbows on his knees) I like you so much when you do that! Dont speak, darling.
(She runs her hand through his hair) Youre torn inside, I know. But if you leave me now,
even if you lived a thousand years, youd still regret this moment, youll never forget youre
little dove.

SAVERIO. (Without looking up) What a brave dove you are!

SUSANA. (stroking his head) Youre offended, arent you, darling. Oh, no, its that youve just
been born; and when youve just been everything hurts. Solitude has turned you into a
beast. No woman has ever spoken to you like this before. The milk boy needed a shock to
liberate the man. Youll never make another mistake.

SAVERIO . (Rubbing his face) Its really stuffy in here!

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 SUSANA. (Standing by him) I am the great girlfriend youre heart was beating for. Look at
me, my love. Id like to wrap my coils around you, like a tropical snake.

SAVERIO. (Instinctively stepping back to the sofa) Whats the whole snake thing about?
(Surprised) Look at your eyes! Therere like saucers!

SUSANA. My eyes are beautiful for you. Like twin suns. Because I love you, my dear Colonel.
All my life Ive looking for you. (She launches herself on to the sofa next to him. She places
her hand round his neck)

SAVERIO. Careful! Somebody may come in.

SUSANA. Dont you like it when I get close to you?

SAVERIO. Are you still pulling my leg.

SUSANA.(Sweetly) Pulling your leg, my dearest? How can you say that Saverio?

SAVERIO. (Angrily) What is all this joke about? (Lets go of her arm violently)

SUSANA. Why do you treat me like this, my dear?

SAVERIO. Theres something terrible in your eyes.

SUSANA. Let me lean on you. (She hugs him again)

SAVERIO. Theres an evil look in your eyes. (Tries to push her awayt)

SUSANA. Dont be afraid, my dear. Youre in shock.

SAVERIO (Puzzled) Whats wrong with you? Youre as white as a sheet.

SUSANA. (Sweetly) Are you afraid, my dear?

SAVERIO (Jumping off the throne) What are you hiding in your hand?

SUSANA. (Suddenly still, standing on the platform) You miserable cur!

SAVERIO. Susana! (He suddenly understands and begins to shout) This woman really is mad!
Julia! Help!. (SUSANA raised the gun she is holding) Dont! Dont! Susana!

SCENE VIII
The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 143
 The sound of shots are heard. The guests hurry on stage. Saverio is lying on the stage.

JUAN, PEDRO, JULIA, etc.

CURTAIN

Roberto Arlt (1900-1942)

Argentine novelist, dramaturg and journalist. Arlt is generally considered by critics the
forerunner of the Latin American boom. Arlts innovative style reflects a fascination with
the popular and a trenchant social realism fused with fantasy; his oeuvre is considered to
have paved the way for later Latin American magic realism. Between 1928 and 1942 he run
a column Aguafuertes (i.e. Sketches) in El Mundo newspaper. Amongst his most important
works there are four novels, El juguete rabioso (Buenos Aires: Latina, 1926; Mad Toy
(Durham& London: Duke University Press, 2002), trans. Michele McKay Aynesworth; Los
siete locos (Buenos Aires: Latina, 1929; The Seven Madmen (Boston: D. R. Godme, 1984),
trans. Naomi Lindstrom, (Boston: Godine, 1984), trans. Nick Caistor; Los lanzallamas
(Buenos Aires: Claridad, 1931), El amor brujo (Buenos Aires: Victoria, Talleres Grficos
Ra, 1932 [Bewitching Love]), nine plays written between 1934 and 1942 (most of which
he saw staged at the Teatro del Pueblo) and a series of short stories published throughout
his life in newspapers and magazines such as El Mundo, El Hogar and Mundo Argentino
(probably the three most popular publications of the epoch).

Carolina Miranda
I joined Victoria University almost three years ago after finishing my PhD in Hull, UK. I am
also a member of the New Zealand Centre for Literary Translation / Te Tumu Whakawhiti
Tuhinga o Aotearoa.
My main areas of research are Translation Studies and Latin American contemporary
narrative. I have contributed several articles on contemporary Hispanic writers and poets
to the Encyclopedia of Erotic Literature (Routledge Reference, Routledge, 2006). My chapter
Un argentino entre gngsters: Europa y las Amricas en la obra detectivesca de Roberto
Arlt (in Cruce de vas: una mirada ocenica a la cultura hispnica) explores detective
fiction, my other research interest (forthcoming 2010, ed. Rogelio Guedea. Mexico: Aldus). I
am currently revising my PhD thesis, Translation and the construction of Genre: The Case
of Roberto Arlt, which is under contract with Edwin Mellen Press.

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 144

Translation and the Emergence of Modern Sinhala Theater in a Postcolonial

Context.
By Kanchuka Dharmasiri

Theater is a space where various sociopolitical and ideological issues are enacted, contested, and

subverted. Sri Lankan theater has often functioned as a critique of contemporary political and social

issues and has been a popular medium frequented by many. Sri Lankan theater consists of Sinhala, Tamil

and English theater. In this article, I will focus mostly on Sinhala theater. Modern Sinhala theater as one

knows it today does not have a very long history and became a distinctive art form in the middle of the

twentieth century in a postcolonial context. A significant factor that comes to mind when talking about

theater in Sri Lanka is the role that translation has played in the process of establishing it as a distinct art

from. What I would like to do in this article is to sketch a brief history of the formation of the modern

Sinhala theater and to examine the various roles that translation has played in fashioning it as a specific

creative practice. At the same time, I will also explore some of the complications a translator faces when

translating a play and look at theater as a space where multiple levels of translations occur.

Itamar Even-Zohar in Polysystem Studies (1990) examines the place that translation occupies in

the literary system and perceives translation as a system fully participating in the history of the

polysystem, as an integral part of it, related with all the other co-systems (1990:22). In the same text he

argues that more research should be done to investigate the major role translation has played in the

crystallization of national cultures (1990:21). Using Even-Zohars notions of literary systems, Annie

Brisset illustrates the way in which translation played a major part in the formation of the Quebecois

national theater and also helped valorize the Quebecois language. In Translation in a Postcolonial

Context (1999) Maria Tymoczko comprehensively illustrates the major role that translation played in the

Irish cultural renaissance further illuminating the significant role that translation plays in the formation

and revival of national cultures in postcolonial contexts. My study of translation and Sinhala theater uses

Even-Zohars ideas about translation, systems theory and his ideas about the significance of translations

in forming national cultures. Moreover, I will engage with Andr Lefeveres concepts about rewriting,

The Mercurian, Vol. 2, No. 4 145