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Brecht Collected Plays: 3: Lindbergh's Flight; The Baden-Baden Lesson on Consent; He Said Yes/He Said No; The Decision; The Mother; The Exception & the ... St Joan of the Stockyards (World Classics)

Page 27

by Bertolt Brecht


  On those required of others.

  In short: you must

  Rebuild God

  The only salvation, and

  Beat the drum for Him, to get Him a

  Foothold in the slums

  And make His voice resound in the stockyards.

  That would be enough.

  (He holds out the paper to her.)

  Take what you get, but realize what you’re getting it for, and

  Then take it! Here’s my I.O.U. It’s good for four years’ rent.

  JOAN:

  Mr Mauler, I don’t understand what you’ve been saying

  And I don’t wish to understand.

  (She stands up.)

  I know I should be pleased to hear

  That God is to be helped. But I

  Am one of those this doesn’t help. And who

  Are being offered nothing.

  MAULER:

  But if you bring the Black Straw Hats the money

  They’ll let you stay with them. This unsettled

  Life is no good for you. Believe me

  They’re out for money, which is all to the good.

  JOAN:

  If the Black Straw Hats

  Accept your money, let them.

  But I will sit down with the people in the stockyards

  Waiting for the plants to open. I will eat

  Nothing but what they eat, and if

  Snow is what’s handed out to them, then snow

  And whatever work they do I’ll do it too

  For I too have no money and no other way of getting any

  Not honestly at least. And if there is no work

  Let there be none for me, and

  You, who live on other people’s poverty and

  Can’t bear to see the poor, who condemn

  People you don’t know, and arrange matters so

  As not to see those people who stand

  Condemned, abandoned and unseen in the stockyards:

  If you want to see me again, it

  Will have to be in the stockyards.

  (She goes out.)

  MAULER:

  Ah, Mauler, you will rise

  Every hour of the night and

  Look out the window to see if it’s snowing, for if it is

  The snow will be falling on someone you know.

  9

  JOAN’S THIRD DESCENT INTO THE DEPTHS: THE SNOWFALL

  a

  Stockyard district.

  Joan, Gloomb and Mrs Luckerniddle.

  JOAN:

  Let me tell you what I dreamed

  One night last week:

  In a small field

  Too small for the shadow of a medium-sized tree

  Because enormous buildings hemmed it in, I saw a

  Crowd of people – I couldn’t say how many, but surely

  Many more than the number of sparrows that would fit in

  So small a space – so dense a crowd

  That the field buckled and rose in the middle. And now the

  Crowd hung over the edge, clung fast

  For a moment, pulsing, and then

  Under the impact of a word, shouted somewhere

  Signifying nothing in particular, began to flow.

  Then I saw marching columns, streets, some known to me, Chicago! You!

  I saw you marching, and then I saw myself

  Saw myself striding silently at your head

  With warlike steps and bleeding forehead, shouting

  Martial-sounding words in a language unknown

  Even to myself. And since many columns were

  Marching on all sides, I marched in many

  Forms at the head of many columns. Young or old

  Sobbing or cursing, escaped at last from my skin!

  Virtue and terror! Transforming everything

  My foot touched, wreaking immoderate destruction

  Perceptibly influencing the course of the stairs

  But also changing neighbourhood streets

  Known to us all, beyond recognition.

  And so the column marched and I marched with it

  Shielded by snow from enemy attack

  Rendered diaphanous by hunger, presenting no target

  Residing nowhere, hence impossible to lay hands on

  Accustomed to every torment, hence

  Impervious to torment.

  And so the column marches, abandoning

  Positions that cannot be held

  For others will take their place.

  That’s what I dreamt.

  And now I see the meaning.

  This very night we shall

  Leave these stockyards and reach

  Their city of Chicago in the dawn.

  We will display our misery on the streets and squares

  And appeal to everyone who looks as if he might be human.

  After that I do not know.

  GLOOMB: Do you see what she’s driving at, Mrs Luckerniddle? I don’t.

  MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: If she hadn’t shot her mouth off at the Black Straw Hats, we’d have been sitting in a nice warm place, spooning up our soup.

  b

  Livestock Exchange.

  MAULER (to the packers):

  My New York friends have written me

  That the tariff law in the south

  Has just been repealed.

  THE PACKERS:

  Heavens! The tariff repealed, and we

  Haven’t so much as a shred of meat to our name! All of it sold at

  Rockbottom prices. Must we now buy when they’re rising?

  THE STOCKBREEDERS:

  Heavens! The tariff repealed, and we haven’t

  Got any livestock to sell! All of it sold at

  Rockbottom prices!

  THE SMALL SPECULATORS:

  Heavens! Forever opaque

  Stand the eternal laws of

  Human econony!

  Oh, without warning, giving no notice

  Volcanoes erupt, laying waste the whole region!

  Most unexpectedly our

  Island of profit is blown out of the tempestuous sea!

  Nobody notified! No one informed! But the hindmost

  Gets his arse bitten.

  MAULER:

  Since a demand has now arisen for

  Livestock in cans at reasonable prices, I

  Demand immediate delivery of the

  Canned meat our contract calls for.

  GRAHAM:

  At the old price?

  MAULER:

  As per agreement, Graham

  Forty thousand tons, unless my memory

  Deceives me about a moment when I was not in my right mind.

  THE PACKERS:

  How can we be expected to buy livestock with the prices rising?

  When it has all been cornered by

  An unknown buyer?

  Release us, Mauler, from that contract!

  MAULER:

  Sorry, I need that canned goods. But there’s

  Plenty of livestock, expensive to be sure

  But enough. Just buy it!

  THE PACKERS:

  Buy livestock now? Damn his hide!

  c

  Small bar in the stockyard district.

  Working men and women, among them Joan. A troop of Black Straw Hats come in. Joan stands up and during the following motions to them desperately to go away.

  JACKSON, LIEUTENANT OF THE BLACK STRAW HATS (directing a perfunctory hymn):

  Brother, won’t you eat the bread of Jesus?

  Since we gathered at his board

  What delights have come to please us!

  Friend, come quickly to the Lord!

  Hallelujah!

  Martha, a rank-and-file Black Straw Hat, speaks to the workers, intermittently making a remark to her comrades.

  MARTHA: (Is there really any point in this?) Brothers and sisters, there was a time when I myself stood sadly by the wayside like you, and all the old Adam in me wanted was to eat and drin
k, but then I found the Lord Jesus, and light and gladness came into my heart, and now (They’re not even listening) I only have to think hard about my Lord Jesus, who redeemed us all with His suffering in spite of our many many sins and I’m not hungry any more and I’m not thirsty, except for the word of our Lord Jesus. (It’s no use.) Where the Lord Jesus is, there’s no violence but only peace; there’s no hate, but only love. (This is a complete waste of time!) And so I say: Help us to keep the pot boiling!

  THE BLACK STRAW HATS: Hallelujah!

  Jackson passes the collection box around, but nothing is put into it.

  Hallelujah!

  JOAN:

  Why must they come and bother people

  Here in the cold, and worst of all, make speeches?

  Indeed, I can hardly bear

  To hear the words which

  Were once such a joy and comfort to me! If only

  They had a voice left, some little something inside them that would say:

  This is a place of snow and wind: be still!

  A WOMAN: Leave her be. That’s what they have to do for the bit of food and warmth they get. I wouldn’t mind being at their mission house myself.

  MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: That was real nice music!

  GLOOMB: Sort of.

  MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: They’re sweet people all the same.

  GLOOMB: Sort of.

  THE WOMAN: But why don’t they talk to us and convert us?

  GLOOMB (making the gesture of paying out money): Can you keep their pot boiling, Mrs Swingurn?

  THE WOMAN: Their music is nice, but I thought maybe they’d give us a dish of soup, seeing they’ve brought a pot.

  A WORKER (amazed at her): No kidding? That’s what you thought?

  MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: I’d rather see some action myself. I’ve heard enough talk. If certain people had kept their mouths shut, I’d know where to go for the night.

  JOAN: Isn’t anybody around here going to do something?

  THE WORKER: Yes, the Communists.

  JOAN: Don’t they incite people to crime?

  THE WORKER: No.

  Silence.

  JOAN: Where are they?

  GLOOMB: Mrs Luckerniddle can tell you.

  JOAN (to Mrs Luckerniddle): How do you know such things?

  MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: Well, you see, in the days before I started relying on people like you, I went to see them a few times about my husband.

  d

  Livestock Exchange.

  THE PACKERS:

  We’re in the market for livestock! Yearlings

  Calves! Steers! Hogs!

  Let’s have offers!

  THE STOCKBREEDERS:

  There’s nothing left. What could be sold

  We’ve sold.

  THE PACKERS:

  Nothing left? The railroad pens

  Are clogged with livestock.

  THE STOCKBREEDERS:

  All sold.

  THE PACKERS:

  Sold to whom?

  Mauler comes in. The Packers besiege him.

  THE PACKERS:

  Not a steer to be had in all Chicago.

  Mauler, you’ve got to give us more time.

  MAULER: You signed a contract to deliver meat. Deliver it.

  (He joins Slift.) Bleed them dry.

  A STOCKBREEDER: Eight hundred Kentucky steers at forty.

  THE PACKERS:

  Forty! Are you crazy?

  SLIFT:

  Sold. At forty.

  THE STOCKBREEDERS:

  Eight hundred steers to Sullivan Slift at forty.

  THE PACKERS:

  It’s Mauler! See? We told you so. It’s him!

  You dirty dog! He makes us contract to deliver

  Canned meat and buys up all the livestock, so

  We have to buy the meat we need to fill

  His cans from him! You lousy butcher! Here!

  Take some of our flesh! Cut yourself a chunk!

  MAULER: When you’re a steer, the sight of you will whet people’s appetite, you’ve got to expect it!

  GRAHAM (ready to rush at Mauler):

  I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.

  MAULER:

  Okay, Graham, what I want from you is cans!

  Stuff yourself into them for all I care!

  You businessmen, I’ll teach you how to

  Sell meat! From this time on the price

  Of every hoof of every calf from here

  To Illinois gets paid to me. A good price too.

  So for a start I’m putting up five hundred steers

  For sale at fifty-six.

  (Silence.)

  Not much demand. All right, since no one here needs livestock

  I’m asking sixty! And don’t forget

  My canned goods!

  e

  Another part of the Stockyards.

  Placards reading: ‘General strike in support of the locked-out stockyard workers!’ Outside a shed two men from union headquarters are talking with a group of workers. Joan comes along.

  JOAN: Are you the people who are running things for the unemployed? I can help. I’ve learned to speak on the street and indoors too, even in big halls. I’m not easy to intimidate, and if I’ve got a good cause to explain, I think I’m pretty good at it. If you ask me, something needs to be done quick. And I’ve got a few suggestions.

  A LABOUR LEADER: Fellow workers! So far the meat bosses have shown no sign of reopening their plants. At first it looked as if the exploiter Pierpont Mauler was trying to get the plants opened, because he has been demanding delivery of some big lots of canned goods the packers owe him. Then it turned out that Mauler himself had bought up the meat they need for their canned goods and has no intention of parting with it. We now know that if the meat bosses have their way we workers will never get our jobs back, anyway, not at our old wages. Obviously, in this kind of a situation, only force can help us. The workers in the big light and power plants have promised to call a general strike no later than the day after tomorrow. We want this made known all over the stockyards, because if it isn’t, some false rumour could make the workers drift away, and then if they want to come back it’ll be on the meat bosses’ conditions. Between now and tomorrow morning the meat bosses are sure to broadcast a lot of lies; they’ll say everything’s been settled and the general strike isn’t coming off. That’s why these letters, announcing that the light and power workers have called a sympathy strike, have to be delivered to the delegates who’ll be waiting for instructions from us at various points in the stockyards at ten o’clock tonight. Stick this one under your shirt, Jack, and wait for the delegates outside Ma Schmitt’s hashhouse.

  A worker takes the letter and leaves.

  ANOTHER WORKER: Give me the one for the Graham plant, I know the place.

  THE LABOUR LEADER: Twenty-sixth and Michigan Park.

  The worker takes the letter and leaves.

  THE LABOUR LEADER: Thirteenth Street, outside the Westinghouse Building. (To Joan:) Hey, who are you?

  JOAN: I’ve been fired from my job.

  THE LABOUR LEADER: What kind of a job?

  JOAN: I sold a magazine.

  THE LABOUR LEADER: Who’d you work for?

  JOAN: An agency.

  A WORKER: She could be a stoolpigeon.

  SECOND LABOUR LEADER: No, I know her. She’s with the Black Straw Hats, so the police are used to seeing her around. Nobody’d ever suspect her of working for us. That’s a good thing, because the cops are watching the place where the comrades from the Cridle plant are expected. She’ll attract less notice than anybody else we’ve got.

  FIRST LABOUR LEADER: How do you know what she’ll do with the letter?

  SECOND LABOUR LEADER: I don’t. (To Joan:)

  A net with one torn mesh

  Is useless.

  The fish swims through it at that point

  As if there were no net at all.

  Suddenly

  All the meshes are useless.

  JOAN: I sold p
apers on Forty-Fourth Street. I’m not a stoolpigeon. I’m heart and soul for your cause.

  FIRST LABOUR LEADER: Our cause? You mean it’s not your cause?

  JOAN: Well, I don’t see how it can be in the public interest for the plant owners to throw all those workers out on the street. It would almost make a body think the rich drew profit from the poverty of the poor! And that the rich people are to blame for all the poverty! The workers laugh uproariously.

  But that’s inhuman!! What about somebody like Mr Mauler? More laughter.

  What are you laughing about? Why are you so resentful? I don’t like it and I don’t think it’s right of you to assume without proof that a person like Mr Mauler can’t be human.

  SECOND LABOUR LEADER: Not without proof. Give her the letter, nothing to worry about. You know her, Mrs Luckerniddle? (Mrs Luckerniddle nods.) Wouldn’t you say she’s honest?

  MRS LUCKERNIDDLE: Honest, yes.

  FIRST LABOUR LEADER (giving Joan the letter): Go to the Graham plant, Gate 5. If you see three workers coming along and they look around, ask them if they’re from the Cridle plant. The letter’s for them.

  f

  Livestock Exchange.

  THE SMALL SPECULATORS:

  The stock market’s falling! The packing plants in danger!

  What’s to become of us shareholders?

  Us small investors who have risked our savings?

  The middle class, already so sorely tried?

  Somebody ought to blow such men as Graham

  To bits before they make waste paper out of

  Our stock certificates, our

  Share in the profits of their bloody cellars.

  Buy livestock, you bastards, buy at any price!

  During the whole scene the names of firms that have suspended payments are called out: ‘The following firms have suspended payment: Meyers & Co., etc.’

  THE PACKERS: We can’t go on. The price is over seventy.

  THE WHOLESALERS: Damn big shots! Brain them, kill them. They aren’t buying.

  THE PACKERS: Two thousand steers wanted at seventy.

  SLIFT (to Mauler standing by a pillar): Push them higher.

  MAULER:

  I see you fellows haven’t kept the contract I

  Concluded with you in the hope of making

  Jobs for the workers. Now I hear that they’re

  Still standing idle in the yards. Well, you’ll regret it:

  I’ve bought canned meat and I want it now.

  GRAHAM:

  We couldn’t help it. Meat had

  Vanished completely from the market!

  Five hundred steers at seventy-five!

  THE SMALL SPECULATORS:

  Buy it, you bloodsuckers!

  They’re not buying! They’d rather let

 

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