by David Lodge
LEO (indicates folder)
Why did you write this, then?
PENNY
I suppose you wounded my pride, what you said about my Lights and Shadows piece. I’m used to getting good marks, you see. I thought to myself: ‘Dammit, I’ll show him.’
LEO
And you did. (Slaps folder) This is the real thing.
PENNY
And I see how easily I could get addicted to that kind of praise. So I’m going to stop now, while there’s still time.
PENNY gets up to go.
LEO
I’m sorry.
PENNY
No, I’m sorry – for having wasted your time. But I do appreciate the trouble you took, really I do.
LEO holds out the folder.
LEO
Here.
PENNY
Oh, keep it. Or throw it away.
LEO
You’re not going to read this tonight?
PENNY
No, I think I’ll slip away before this evening. Goodbye, and thanks.
LEO
Goodbye, Penny.
PENNY goes out. MAUDE steps forward on the landing and begins to descend the stairs.
MAUDE
I do hope she remembers to take her hat with her.
LEO
Were you listening to that?
MAUDE
Mrs Sewell has hidden depths. Somewhat sanctimonious ones, I’m bound to say.
LEO looks defeated, deflated.
MAUDE
Cheer up, Leo.
LEO
I don’t like to lose a potential writer.
MAUDE
You mean you don’t like to lose a protégée.
LEO
Is she right? Are we really such assholes?
MAUDE(considers)
I think she’s right about us devouring experience. Once you identify yourself as a writer, you can never just live, simply. It’s all potential material. I remember when my mother was dying, I was thinking all the time how I was going to write about it. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t feel genuine pity and grief. It’s the same with the rivalry. It’s inevitable between writers, between artists of any kind, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be friends as well.
The telephone rings twice and stops. MAUDE picks up the phone. LEO begins to unpack the computer and set it up again.
MAUDE
Hallo, Henry … Yes, it’s me, live. Where have you been? … Oh … She isn’t? Well, that’s a relief … Yes, I hope she will … Tomorrow, I should think about noon – it’s a three-hour drive … The course? Oh, quite well, I think. (MAUDE catches LEO’s eye) It’s been very … interesting … No, Maurice dropped out at the last moment … Somebody called Leo Rafkin … An American … Do you remember a book called The Wise Virgin?
LEO
Wise Virgins!
MAUDE
Yes, very nice. Rather serious. He thinks English writers prattle. I daresay he’s right. Goodbye, Henry.
MAUDE puts down the phone.
MAUDE
You’ve decided to stay, then?
LEO
I guess so.
MAUDE
Good.
LEO switches on computer.
MAUDE
Don’t you find it a nuisance, carrying that contraption around with you everywhere?
LEO
It’s okay. I don’t have to carry a bulky manuscript around any more. (He holds up a 3.5in floppy disc between his thumb and forefinger) My entire novel is on three of these discs. Eighty thousand words, to date.
MAUDE
Show me how it works.
LEO inserts disc, taps keyboard. MAUDE looks over his shoulder.
LEO
‘Get file. Name of file: Chap. One.’ There it is.
MAUDE
Goodness, just like magic.
LEO
You can scroll through it like this. (Taps key several times.)
MAUDE
What do you do now?
LEO
Well, I could revise it. Or I could dump it.
MAUDE
Dump it?
LEO (taps keyboard)
‘Delete all.’
MAUDE (laughs)
It says ‘Really?’
LEO (taps)
Y for ‘Yes.’
MAUDE
It’s all disappeared.
LEO
Yeah. (Taps) ‘Get Chap Two.’
MAUDE
Where’s it gone?
LEO
Down the tubes. (Taps) ‘Delete all. Really? Yes.’ (Taps) ‘Get Chap. Three. Delete all. Really? Yes.’ (Taps) ‘Get Chap. Four. Delete all. Really?’
MAUDE (alarmed)
What are you doing?
LEO
What does it look like? (Taps.)
MAUDE
You’re destroying your novel!
LEO (taps)
Yep.
MAUDE
But why?
LEO
I’ve lost faith in it.
MAUDE
You mean Simon …?
LEO
No, not that asshole. Well, maybe he has something to do with it. He was right about my being blocked.
MAUDE
You’ll get over it. I just have.
LEO
No, this is chronic. It came to me while Penny was talking: I’m writing this novel not because I have to, not because I really want to, but because I think my career needs a big book. That’s why it’s not working. I think I’ve known that for a long time, really. (Taps) ‘Chap. Five. Delete all.’
MAUDE
Don’t!
LEO
Why not?
MAUDE
You’ll regret it. You said you should never destroy anything. What about posterity? What about the critics of the future?
Pause, while LEO seems to give this appeal serious consideration.
LEO
I have backup files at home.
MAUDE laughs with relief.
LEO
Backup files and heaps of printout.
MAUDE goes to the coffee table and picks up some students’ files.
MAUDE
So it’s just a symbolic gesture. You really had me worried.
LEO (taps)
No, not just symbolic. I need the disc space for something new.
MAUDE settles herself to work.
MAUDE
Are you going back to writing short stories?
LEO
No. I thought I’d try a completely different form.
MAUDE (abstractedly)
Oh?
LEO
Yeah. (Slyly) I’ve just had a great idea for a play …
As the implications of this remark sink in, MAUDE slowly turns her head and stares at LEO.
Curtain.
The End.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781448137695
www.randomhouse.co.uk
First published in 1991 by
Martin Secker & Warburg Limited
an imprint of Reed Consumer Books Ltd
Michelin House, 81 Fulham Road, London SW3 6RB
and Auckland, Melbourne, Singapore and Toronto
Reprinted 1991,1994
Copyright © 1991 by David Lodge
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 0 436 25666 5
The author has asserted his moral rights
All rights whatsoever in t
his play are strictly reserved.
Requests to reproduce the text in whole or in part should be addressed to the Publishers.
Application for performance in any medium or for translation into any language should be addressed to the author’s sole agent, Curtis Brown Group Ltd, 162–168 Regent Street, London, W1R 5TB