by Martin Crimp
— But surely you want to?
— Want to what?
— Speak.
— I do speak. I’ve said.
— But to him – surely you want to speak to him sometimes?
— Yes. No. Yes. Yes – of course I do sometimes.
— When do you want to speak?
— When he uses the whip.
— Oh?
— Yes.
— And what do you want to say when he uses the whip? (Pause.) I said what do you want to say when he uses the whip?
— I want to tell him how good it feels.
— Good?
— Yes.
— Good in what way? (Pause.) I said good in what way? (Pause.) Say it.
— I feel more alive.
— And when else?
— When else what?
— When else do you want to speak?
— (Inaudible.) When it’s bad.
— What? Speak up.
— I said when it’s bad.
— You mean when it’s a bad day?
Pause.
— When it’s a bad day – yes.
— Why do you want to speak to him on a bad day?
— I don’t know.
— Is it because he looks ugly?
— I don’t know.
— Or old?
— I don’t know.
— Or is it because nothing he says makes sense? Which is worse?
— I don’t know. Start again please.
— What is it you want to say to him? What makes a bad day bad? Say it.
— No.
— Say it.
— No. I don’t know. Start again please.
— And how do you know?
— How do I know what?
— And when?
— I said start again please.
— When do you know it’s a bad day?
— I don’t know. Start again.
— When do you know? From the moment he appears? Or not? Say it. You cannot start again.
Long pause.
— I know it’s a bad day – yes – from the moment the speck appears – even before the speck is a man and the man is him I know that it’s bad just from the way it flickers – know it’s a bad bad day just from the way the speck of the man flickers against the light. He’s getting closer. Yes. He’s moving closer along the long straight line that leads to me from the world and oh it’s bad. If only I could move – if only I could run – but I don’t move – I never move – that is the rule – I’m here for him always. And as he comes closer along the long straight line I can see that he’s got no bird, no whip, no smile on his face, no flower – I can see that his eyes are red – I can see that his face is swollen and wet with tears – yes wet with disgusting tears – and I want to shout out STOP! – want to shout out STOP CRYING! STOP CRYING!
WHY ARE YOU CRYING? LEAVE ME ALONE! STOP CRYING! GO AWAY! – I want to scream stop being so weak – stop being so strange and sad – go away, go away – then come back and make everything good. But my voice won’t come out – it’s a rule – yes it’s a rule that my voice won’t come out – only his – only his voice comes out of his mouth where his mouth’s all wet with tears and spit and his tongue moves in his mouth and he’s saying ‘I can’t stand this any more’ and he’s saying ‘Look at me – I’d rather be dead than go on living like this. You have no soul’ – he says – ‘no heart – no voice – no human feeling. You’re cold’ – he says – ‘yes, cold and empty. Your mind is a blank and you have the dead eyes of a killer. But whose fault is that? It’s mine. The fault is mine. I have completely failed. I’ve made you young. I’ve made you beautiful. But I’ve failed to make you live and I have failed to make you love me. You’re dead inside. Yes my sweetheart – you are dead inside. You can’t understand love. You can’t understand guilt. You can’t understand a fucking thing. You can’t even understand who or what you are because that is the way I’ve made you.’
‘Look at you. Look at you’ – he says to me. ‘Nothing moves you. Nothing touches you. Not the most tuneful songbird. Neither the white cyclamen nor the red. Even the whip – even on the days when I bring the whip and force myself – and imagine how hard it is for me to force myself to mutilate the thing I’ve made! – yes even when I bring that whip down on the immaculate surface of your body – even the whip – yes – I can see it from your eyes – even the whip means nothing. You’re incapable of love. And you don’t understand that each vermilion line of blood breaking your skin is a miracle. Your body bleeds but you’re dead inside. And when I come towards you out of the world, from the avenue of lime trees, bringing my pitiful gifts, I know that I’m just a cloud of dust – say it – blocking your view – or monstrous shadow – go on – say it! – blocking out the light.’
‘Hit me’ – he says – ‘if only you could hit me back. If only you could kill. I’ll lie at your feet. Kick me. Kick me like a dog. Look at me’ – he says – ‘look at me – I’m lying at your feet – now kick me like a dog’ – he says – ‘kick me in the mouth. Kick out my teeth. Punish me. Show me you feel something. Punish me. Kill me now.’
Long pause.
— And what does the man do next? (Pause.) I said what does the man do next?
— Reaches out with his hands.
— Oh? And why does he reach out with his hands?
— To cling to my naked feet.
Pause.
— And what do you feel when he clings like that to your feet?
— (Inaudible.) Disgust.
— Can’t hear you. Speak up.
— I SAID THAT I FEEL DISGUST.
Pause.
Why does he call me dead?
Why does he call me ‘the thing I’ve made’? – What thing?
What does he mean ‘incapable of love’?
WRITING FOR MUSIC
Into the Little Hill
Music
George Benjamin
Text
Martin Crimp
A co-production between
Festival d’Automne à Paris,
Opéra National de Paris, T & M, Ensemble Modern,
Opera Frankfurt, Lincoln Centre Festival,
Wienerfestwochen, Holland Festival and
Liverpool, European Capital City of Culture, 2008.
Note
Passages within brackets thus: [ ] were not included
in the musical work as performed.
Text copyright © Martin Crimp 2006
Into the Little Hill was first performed in the Amphitheatre of the Opéra Bastille as part of the Festival d’Automne à Paris on 22 November 2006.
Performed by Anu Komsi and Hilary Summers with Ensemble Modern, conducted by Franck Ollu
Stage Director and Designer Daniel Jeanneteau
Characters
1
mezzo-soprano
2
soprano
Part One
I THE CROWD
1 and 2
Kill them they bite
kill them they steal
kill them they take bread take rice
take – bite – steal – foul and infect –
damage our property
burrow under our property
rattle and rattle the black sacks.
Kill and you have our vote.
II THE MINISTER AND THE CROWD
1 The minister greets the crowd
selects a baby to kiss in the green April light
for the black eye of the camera
smiles, grips the baby, thinks:
We have no enemies.
We live peacefully
in the shadow of the Little Hill.
[On the horizon of our city
are banks and steeples, the quarter-moons of minarets.]
We accept all faiths
because we believe – intelligently believe
in nothing.
And what’s wrong – thinks the minister –
wi
th a rat?
A rat knows its place –
avoids light – clings as a rat should to the walls
and only steals from the stacked-up plastic sacks
what we have no appetite to eat.
The minister passes back the baby
says to the electorate: please – think –
the rat is our friend.
My own child is in her element
feeding her black rat and cutting its claws.
Even this baby – who knows? – may owe its life
to a rat in an experiment.
But the people spit
back over the metal fence:
III THE CROWD
1 and 2
Kill them they bite
kill them they steal
kill them they take bread take rice
take – bite – steal – foul and infect –
damage our property
burrow under our property
rattle and rattle the black sacks.
We want the rats dead.
1 But no animal – not one animal – must suffer
neither must our children
brave and intelligent
with bright clear eyes
ever see blood.
IV THE MINISTER AND THE STRANGER
1 Night comes but not sleep.
What are those sparks? Rats feeding on electricity.
What is that sound? Rats digesting concrete.
And that? (Pause.) And that?
In his daughter’s bedroom
he finds a man –
a man with no eyes, no nose, no ears –
finds him stooped over his sleeping child
while the black rat rattles its wheel.
Who are you? says the minister
How did you get into my house?
2 I charmed my way in
says the man with no eyes, no nose, no ears
and with music I will charm my way out again –
With music I can open a heart
as easily as you can open a door
and reach right in
march slaves to the factory
or patiently unravel the clouds
[blacken each particle of light
or make night bright as magnesium.]
With music I can make death stop
or rats stream and drop from the rim of the world:
the choice is yours.
1 But the world – says the minister – is round.
2 The world – says the man – is the shape my music makes it:
the choice is yours
Pause.
1 What do you want, says the minister.
2 What have you got, says the man, money?
1 Money?
2 Have you got money?
1 Have I got – what? – money?
2 Yes – money, says the man, have you got money?
1 What d’you want money for?
2 To live, says the man.
1 Ah.
2 Yes.
1 Ah.
2 Yes.
1 To live.
2 Yes – money to live.
1 And how much money does a man need to live?
Pause.
As much as that?
2 Yes.
1 As much money as that?
2 That’s what it takes to unravel the clouds, says the man.
1 Not clouds – rats – destroy the rats – see me re-elected, smiles the minister, and I’ll double it –
2 The choice is yours.
1 I’ll double it – you have my word.
2 Your word is dead.
1 I swear to you by god.
2 Your god can’t be trusted. Swear by your sleeping child.
1 What has this to do with my child?
2 Swear to me by your sleeping child because your
sleeping child –
unlike your god
unlike your word
unlike your smile
– is innocent.
Pause.
1 Hmm – smiles the minister – in a tiny voice – in a voice too soft to wake the minister’s wife – I swear.
2 In that case – says the man – I will begin.
Interlude
V MOTHER AND CHILD
2 Why must the rats die, Mummy?
1 [Tom, he was a piper’s son, He learnt to play when he was young.]
2 Why must the rats die, Mummy?
1 [And all the tune that he could play Was ‘Over the hills and far away’.]
2 Why do they have to die?
1 Because – says the minister’s wife.
2 Because what, Mummy?
1 Because they steal the things we’ve locked away.
2 What have we locked away, Mummy?
1 All the bread – all the fruit – all the oil and electricity.
2 Why have we locked them away, Mummy?
1 Because of how hard we’ve worked for them.
2 Haven’t the rats worked?
1 A rat only steals – a rat’s not human.
2 But those ones are wearing clothes.
1 How can a rat wear clothes?
2 That one’s holding a suitcase.
1 No.
2 That one’s holding a baby.
1 No – only rats in story-books wear hats and coats and carry babies.
2 She’s dropped it.
1 No.
2 She’s dropped the baby.
1 No.
2 And the others – look – are running over it – running over the baby’s face.
1 Come away from the window.
2 She’s screaming, Mummy, she’s screaming – the other rats won’t stop!
Pause.
Will there be blood?
1 Says the minister’s wife: Of course not.
2 Then how will they die?
1 With dignity, sweetheart.
The rats will stream like hot metal
to the rim of the world
2 How can they stream like metal?
1 grip and cling
then over the gold-ringed rim
2 How long will they grip and cling?
1 drop, my sweetheart, as hot rain.
End of Part One.
Part Two
VI INSIDE THE MINISTER’S HEAD
2 Under a clear sky
the minister steps from the limousine –
re-elected –
reaches over the metal fence
to shake hands with the crowd.
What’s that sound? The grateful shriek of the people.
And that?
Pause.
And that?
1 There is no other sound.
2 There is another sound.
1 There is no other sound.
2 There is another sound: the sound of his heart. The sound of the minister’s heart humming in the minister’s head under the clear May sky. Listen.
[1 and 2
Kill them they bite
kill them they steal
kill them they take bread take rice
take – bite – steal – foul and infect –
damage our property
burrow under our property
rattle and rattle the black sacks.
Kill and you have our vote.]
VII THE MINISTER AND THE STRANGER
1 His head lies on his desk
between the family photograph
and the file marked ‘extermination’
eyes level with the last rat left alive
caged on his desk
spared by his child
rattling its wheel.
How much he loves it!
How much he loves the last rat left alive!
How much it resembles him! Same eyes!
2 Same bright clear eyes – says the man with none – same brave intelligence – same appetite.
1 How – says the minister – did you find me here?
2 I followed the sound, says the man with no ear
s.
1 What sound?
2 The sound of the crowd. The sound of the crowd humming inside your head like a refrigerator in summer. And with no nose I could smell blood.
1 What do you want, says the minister.
2 What do I want, says the man – money.
1 Money?
2 I’d like my money.
1 You’d like your – what? – money?
2 Yes – money, says the man – as I was promised.
1 Promised money by who?
2 By you, says the man.
1 Ah.
2 Yes.
1 Ah.
2 Yes.
1 By me.
2 Yes – for the extermination.
1 There was no extermination. says the minister – placing his hand gently over the word – there was no extermination: they left – they chose to leave – of their own free will.
2 You swore by your sleeping child.
1 They left of their own free will – what money? – the money has been spent on barbed wire and on education – on planting our Little Hill with trees –
2 And music?
1 – on cleaning the sea –
2 And music?
1 – we’ve built new walls – lit the streets – policed dark alleyways – we’ve purified the air –
2 And music?
1 All music – smiles the minister – is incidental.
2 You swore by your sleeping child
because your sleeping child –
1 I don’t like demands
2 unlike your god
1 I don’t like threats
2 unlike your word
1 I don’t like your tone of voice:
2 unlike your tone of voice
1 You will now leave!
2 – is innocent.
Pause.
1 So the man left.
2 Whereupon he began another tune.
Interlude
VIII MOTHER(S) AND CHILD(REN)
1 Each cradle rocks empty –
each cage-like cot –
each narrow bed empty but still warm.
Each hot dent in a child’s pillow
still smells of a child’s hair –
each sheet’s still – feel it –