3.1. Topos of the Nursing Home
In his dehumanizing series of exhibitions, “What is It?” (1860), a freak show entrepreneur P.T. Barnum presented to New York audiences an African-American as a nondescript, “neither “man” nor “monkey”, a creature demonstrating characteristics of “animal” as well as “human”, “civilized” as well as “brutish” (
Cook 1996, p. 140). Analyzing the exhibition in the political and social context of the époque, James Cook detects in Barnum’s “disturbingly cruel enterprise” the ambiguity and fluidity of the middle-class New Yorkers whose negotiation with the freakery reflected their own controversial and transgressive identity (
Cook 1996, p. 149). The stage title “What is It?” belongs to the dark-skinned man, allegedly from the African jungles, who transforms from a savage into a civilized person in New York, “the world’s first
quasi-man” (
Cook 1996, p. 151). Naturally, his role was performed by different actors in different years (
Cook 2001, pp. 126–29)
4.
James Cook examines the racial implications of “What is It?” and the politics of nondescription as “a remarkably flexible ideological tool” (
Cook 2001, p. 152) and an instrument of discrimination applicable to other forms of marginalization, particularly ageism. For instance, in Barnum’s exhibition, “It” is compared not only with an animal but also with the elderly (
Cook 2001, p. 152). The scholar claims that Barnum managed to devise a new kind of caricature, non-describable, that avoided discussions of the racial hierarchy, intolerant in mid-19th-century America. Thus, the experimental conclusion by Haim Hazan regarding nonhybrids as the representatives of the Fourth Age is relevant.
Haim Hazan treats late adulthood as a social construct, a collection of symbols, narratives, interpretations, and indicators (
Hazan 2015, p. 49). Thus, the social construction of a freak and an older adult has common ground. The scholar places “freaks, monsters, and other humanly challenged beings” in one row (
Hazan 2015, pp. 66–67), implying that among the latter are older adults. To study extreme old age, Hazan develops the trope of non-hybridity. Non-hybrids are “aging bodies […] at a point in which they become non-marketable objects and hence commercially (and socially) invisible or masked” (
Hazan 2015, p. 5). Although non-hybrids “transgress social space and personal time” (
Hazan 2015, p. 46), they are ostracized due to their lack of bodily control and close connection with dying. Gradually, the “young” old (or Third Agers) may start losing control, becoming uncivilized, and unable to negotiate: “… residents of an old-age home blatantly delegitimize the more incapacitated by assigning to them feral-animal images, hence consigning that category to the realm of savagery” (
Hazan 2015, p. 68). If the older adults in the Third-Age phase still occupy the cultural space, the Fourth Agers live only in the present.
In
The Gin Game, Weller Martin, a male protagonist in his seventies (representative of the Third Age), considers his nursing home “a warehouse for the intellectually and emotionally dead. Nothing more than a place to store them until their bodies quit” (
Coburn 1977, p. 44). Weller shares his anxiety about non-hybrid residents with his game partner and the only friend in the home, Fonsia Dorsey:
“I don’t see how you stand it in here. The same damn empty look face after face. You ought to see them on the days they change the bed linens […] All lined up in their wheelchairs, up and down the halls—like the rows of wrinkled pumpkin heads”.
Weller’s line contains the apprehension of his own not-so-distant future. Weil and Lefkowitz argue that in this way the protagonist “pushes back against the fear of becoming just the type of zombie he rails against” (
Weil and Lefkowitz 2019, p. 653). In the comparison of the older residents with the traditional Halloween symbol, Weller’s invective cue is disparaging (dolt; blockhead) and horrible (a terribly-grinning lantern on All Saints’ Eve). Another of Weller’s epithets describing the Fourth Agers, “glassy-eyed old bastards” (
Coburn 1977, p. 44), renders the institutional care residents not only indifferent but also alien
5.
The US American sociologists and gerontologists demonstrated in the diachronic perspective that an individual’s likelihood of residing in a nursing home depended on factors such as poverty, among others (
Kart and Beckham 1976, p. 901;
Weissert et al. 1990). The residents in both dramas are at home due to unfavorable financial circumstances. In
The Gin Game, the protagonists (there are only two acting characters, Weller and Fonsia, in the play) spent a fortune on their hospital bills, which left them without means for independent existence: Weller confesses to Fonsia, “I was placed here. Placed! By some lowly, brainless bastard at the welfare department” (
Coburn 1977, p. 61). Likewise, the latter reveals that she is also on welfare even though her middle-aged son lives in the same town but never even visits his mother in the nursing home (
Coburn 1977, p. 64). They have not spoken for five years because of his desire to find his father. Fonsia even disinherited her son by signing over her only property, a small house, to the Presbyterian Church. She is placed in the home because of poverty, although she tries hard to hide it from Weller.
If
The Gin Game brings the “young” old characters into the limelight, then
This is the Peaceable Kingdom develops rich interaction between the Third and Fourth age brackets. In his unusually naturalistic drama, Tennessee Williams recreates a day from the 1978 nursing home strike week, filling the premise with the oldest of the old patients, “confined to wheelchairs” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 333). The plotline of the drama revolves around the visit of “young” old children of Mrs. Shapiro, who is a Jewish-American patient in a vegetative condition in palliative care. The sexagenarians Bernice and Saul manifest opposite responses to their mother’s predicament. While the daughter sympathizes and does her best to alleviate Mrs. Shapiro’s suffering, the son is repelled by his mother’s non-hybrid nature. His lines carry pity and terror: “I can’t bear to watch it!” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 333); “It’s better that Mama should go” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 337); “Mama’s gone past understanding and I am grateful for that” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 343); “Look at Mama, drooling, no teeth in her mouth, deaf, blind, reduced to a vegetable…” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 344); “Oh, God, Mama, you have gotten so-
ugly! It is killing us, Mama” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 352). Bernice and Saul’s contrasting reactions to Mrs. Shapiro’s condition align with Brian
Rosenberg’s (
1996, p. 306) assertion about “the hidden qualities in normals to which freaks give perceptible form”. In this context, “freaks” can be replaced with “non-hybrids” without changing the essential meaning. Mrs. Shapiro unintentionally reveals Saul’s fear of aging. Age invokes fear through its fluidity, “the dehumanized institutionalized environment” or the nursing home (
Mangan 2013, p. 205), and “the failure of battling” the imminent end (
Hazan 2015, p. 54). The origins of the fear of age and ageing are synonymous with those of death, represented by the gothic culture of the undead (
Hutcheon and Hutcheon 2004, p. 148). Linda and Michael Hutcheon detected a shift in Western civilization from the end of the 18th century, where death is treated as a personal rather than a collective experience. The interest of popular culture in the uncanny, which can encompass freaks and the elderly alike, creates “anxiety about borderline states that has not disappeared, even in our postmodern, boundary-crossing world” (
Hutcheon and Hutcheon 2004, p. 149). Saul’s fear of old age is exacerbated by the uncertainty of the decade. Rage was one of the responses of the Americans to this emotional state: “Simmering anger pervaded many American lives in the 1970s” (
Borstelmann 2012, p. 10). As anger fueled activism, the 1970s emerged as a pivotal period where many began to rally against systemic injustices, seeking justice and dignity in a changing world.
Similar to “the formalized spaces of shows, museums, fairs, and circuses” (
Garland Thomson 1996, p. 7) and other social facilities, institutional care space allows people to observe others in a supervised way, “controlled voyeurism” (
Hazan 2015, p. 81), where people can safely look at others, at unknowable and unsettling. Yet, this setup reinforces a strong barrier, limiting interaction and communication between those who observe and those who are observed (
Hazan 2015, p. 81). For example, in
This is the Peaceable Kingdom, the Strange Voice (“as if from outer space”,
T. Williams 1981, p. 338) randomly repeating the play’s eponymous title is a propaganda loudspeaker connecting the Queens nursing home with other topoi of limited freedom
6.
The Fourth Age, culturally constructed, is enfreaked because of the loss of agency. Institutionalized care in the USA witnessed “suffering a multiplicity of breakdowns including physical and mental functioning, social support, mental disorders, and financial resources” by its residents as the findings of the comparative study of 1977 and 1985 (
Weissert et al. 1990). Baltes and Smith warn of the risk of psychological mortality among the oldest old, which subverts such key aspects of the human being as “intentionality, personal identity and psychological control over one’s future” along with “the chance to live and die with dignity” (
Baltes and Smith 2003, p. 133). The empirical gerontological findings inferring that “Living longer seems to be a major risk factor for human dignity” (
Baltes and Smith 2003, p. 128) are illustrated by the nursing home topos in both dramas.
In
This is the Peaceable Kingdom, a parallel plotline revolves around a pair of WASP octogenarians, Lucretia and Ralston, juxtaposed with Mrs. Shapiro. No one visits them; they can rely only on each other during the strike. Down-to-earth Lucretia talks about the absurdity of life in ripe old age with the physical decline: “The control of the bladder and bowels, when you lose that control, Mr. Ralston, that is the point where decent existence is ended and indecent existence begins” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 335). Having outlived all her relatives, the female patient objects to survival, which became a metaphor for American society in the mid-1970s (
Borstelmann 2012, p. 9). Michael Hooper argues that Lucretia’s “longevity has proved a curse” (
Hooper 2012). Her arc manifests an opposite of non-hybridity through Lucretia’s realistic lens (she shouts that non-hybrids care about nothing but “dark falling” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 345)), refusal of political correctness (her utterances abound with anti-Semitism), and self-destructive expression (the octogenarian knocks her head hard against the wall as a response to a violent behavior of the home’s residents). Lucretia says, “Want to die, priest, priest, confession and last rites of […] I wanted to knock my brains out, I wanted to knock my brains on that wall but don’t have the strength to…” (
T. Williams 1981, pp. 357, 359). Despite the tendency toward the theatre of the absurd in his late style, Tennessee Williams remains true to his early-period poetics in “the veiling of prosaic things with a theatrical vision of beauty and sadness” (
Parker 1987, p. xi). The sufferings of the older female character are met and enveloped by her friend in misfortune, Ralston, who, though barely able to help himself, nevertheless solaces Lucretia:
LUCRETIA: You’re just an old man in a nursin’ home in a wheelchair.
RALSTON: This is just a disguise. I am God, disguised to protect yuh.
Himself a wheelchair user, Ralston tries to wheel Lucretia back to their ward slowly. The final lines of the drama belong to Lucretia, who accepts his help and anoints Ralston “Mr. God” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 365). Unlike the unresolved conflict between the Third Agers, Fonsia and Weller, in
The Gin Game, the Fourth Agers, Lucretia and Ralston, in
This is the Peaceable Kingdom, seem to overcome their fears. Their vulnerabilities become agency and activity, promising “a site of empowerment” (
Masschelein et al. 2021, p. 3). As we have witnessed above, the nursing home topos propels enfreakment in several ways, including the enclosed space limiting freedom, the non-hybridity or non-description of a resident as producing repulsion and sympathy simultaneously.
3.2. Invective and Silence
Both dramas abound in invectivity as well as rage. The dramatic conflict in
The Gin Game lies in Weller’s inability to win a gin game and establish a relationship with Fonsia. A novice in the gin game, Fonsia always wins (except once, when she deliberately loses a game that Weller cannot accept). Weller becomes enraged by the unfolding events because he cannot win on his own, not even once. Despite Huizinga’s argument that card games “never succeed in eliminating chance completely” (
Huizinga 1992, p. 198), the male protagonist’s inability to utilize this chance enrages him, transforming the comedy into tragedy. The dramatic conflict is unresolved, leaving the play’s finale open-ended. The dialogue between the characters reveals the anxiety and uncertainty of the 1970s, which was partly caused by the increased longevity and the uncharted territory of the Third (and Fourth) Age for Americans. More expressive language, a legacy of the counterculture, spread further into the mainstream (
Borstelmann 2012, p. 162), which theatre reflected immediately.
Thus, invectivity communicates the rage of the main characters. In
The Gin Game, it evolves from good-natured utterances (e.g., “WELLER: I have one of the most advanced cases of old age in the history of medical science. The mortality rate’s incredible” p. 11; or “WELLER: Does the food around here give you diarrhea?” p. 20) to unhidden aggression (“WELLER: You shut your fucking mouth!” p. 69; “WELLER: I would’ve knocked your damned teeth in” p. 70). Weller’s hate speech also borders on physical violence when he hits the furniture (
Coburn 1977, pp. 39, 71–72).
On the one hand, Weller’s self-reflexivity of the age freakery is manifested through his invective rhetoric. The male character highlights the disadvantages of the homes. Himself a part of this rhetoric, Weller uses the first-person plural, “we” after a storm of mutual altercations: “I guess we just lived too long, Fonsia” (
Coburn 1977, p. 64).
On the other hand, the male protagonist’s abusive speech builds the enfreakment poetics of the dramatic text. Weller expresses his anger through verbal insults and curses aimed at the home staff and residents, as well as through physical acts, such as raising his middle finger (
Coburn 1977, p. 25). His uncontrolled behavior, ostensibly a form of domestic violence, is also evident in nonverbal actions, such as “sweeping the cards wildly into the air” and “turning the entire table over” (
Coburn 1977, p. 39) after regularly losing a game. It is known that older adults can “violate the expectations of proper patient behavior” (
Harris 2005, p. 4); yet “one study found that aggressive patients were four times as likely to be abused than were passive patients” (
Harris 2005, p. 4). Weller’s injured masculinity is exacerbated by his constant loss in the card game. As “one of the cardinal features of much Western European play is that it often involves competition” (
Hall 1980, p. 52), this is indicative of Weller, who, in contrast to Fonsia, does not enjoy the game but instead takes it as a business
7.
The Gin Game’s climax, marked by the male protagonist’s violence, subsides into a denouement with Weller’s “horrible cry to the sky.” After this howl, he seems to cease to exist as a distinct personality (
Coburn 1977, p. 72). The playwright’s use of the feral animal metaphor adds freakery to the unsettling and uncivilized behavior of the older adult. Fonsia, less emotional and more fortunate in the gin game, follows Weller’s model of behavior without acquiring freakish characteristics; however, she becomes prone to curses and obscene vocabulary, defending herself from Weller’s attacks that proves that “defamation and vilification can also serve individuals in the struggle for social positions, as well as create a sense of cohesion for the group as a whole” (
Ellerbrock et al. 2021, p. 14).
This argument correlates with the characters’ dynamic in
This is the Peaceable Kingdom, which showcases invective communication between the Third and Fourth Agers. In the staging remark preceding the action, the author warns that the play features bizarre or gallows humor and advises staging it “in a manner to avoid giving any ethnic offense” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 333). However, the play was revived only in 2022 as a puppet show. The characters’ politically incorrect humor may hinder the drama’s staging: in the words of the curator of the Provincetown Tennessee Williams Theater Festival,
This is the Peaceable Kingdom is “a play that no one else would dare to do” (
Read 2022).
Hazan explains the cultural dominance of pejorative language about late adulthood (“disengagement”, “disintegration”, “invisibility”, “rolelessness”) as stemming from the absence of “conceptual substance in the attempt to recognize old age” (
Hazan 2015, p. 58). In both dramas, old age is recognized in the rhetoric of decline. In Williams’s interpretation, the invective is revealed through the metaphor of a peaceable kingdom that fails, as well as in non-verbal resilience and silence. Performed in the primitive style, the eponymous painting by Edward Hicks serves as an intertext of drama. Based on Isaiah 11: 6–9, the allegorical
Peaceable Kingdom series (c. 1820–1849) consists of 62 painted versions. Hicks painted the wolf, the lamb, the leopard, the kid, the calf, the lion and so on, in which destructive animals (worldliness) are quieted by the nurturing animals and the child (innocence) (
Tatham 1981, p. 44). The allegory reveals an allusion to the “beastly qualities” of mankind’s animal nature (
Tatham 1981, p. 43). However, biblical intertext of Hicks’s utopian series is pessimistically reinterpreted by Tennessee Williams: if the home administration and visitors, including middle-aged children, embody the predators, the helpless residents stand for prey. The power relations between the two groups are unequal. Mentioned only through the reiterations of the Voice-Over, the peaceable kingdom could have been analyzed as an ekphrasis in the play. Still, Williams envisioned it as a grotesque and apocalyptic picture lacking peace. His older adult characters fight for survival, literally and metaphorically. The expressions “wheelchair bound” or “confined to a wheelchair” are ascribed with passivity concerning wheelchair users (
Linton 2006, p. 169); however, Tennessee Williams not only crowds his drama with disabled characters in wheelchairs but also empowers some of them with unexpected activity. Like Weller, who is direct about the physiology of late adulthood, Lucretia talks straight about soiling the bed or wetting the wheelchair (
T. Williams 1981, pp. 335, 360). The female older adult verbally abuses other characters, e.g., African Americans enjoying smutty jokes “Blacks talkin’ so dirty” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 341) or Jewish-Americans feeding their mother (
T. Williams 1981, p. 347). From their side, the characters mentioned add to the drama’s invective texture, manifesting verbal aggression that develops into physical violence:
[A black inmate, the First Black Man heard offstage earlier wheels himself rapidly into view.]
FIRST BLACK MAN: Fuckya negotiations, we want food! […]
[The First Black Man, onstage, wheels his chair with amazing force into the Supervisor’s back, knocking him over].
Another form of resistance, employed by both dramatists, is silence. Similar to Leslie Fiedler, who considers that “the silence of freaks is translated into an iconic-verbal form as fixed and conventional as a Byzantine mosaic” (
T. Williams 1981, p. 282), Haim Hazan employs the metaphor of silence enveloping the Fourth Age. At the same time, Hazan regards silencing as a “social denial” (
Hazan 2015, p. 79). Negation is one of the basic psychological defenses in negotiating reality. In the selected dramas, those representing the Fourth Age, such as Mrs. Shapiro and the unnamed mute residents in the Bentley nursing home referred to by Weller, are silent characters whose agency is primarily manifested through pantomime. The inability of cultural negotiation of both non-hybrid characters produces a depressive effect on other characters. It mirrors mainstream anxiety about the close connection of the Fourth Age with death. Hazan concludes his analysis with the appeal to decode “a refusal of speech, which must be seized upon to say something of the unspoken” (
Hazan 2015, p. 87).
Weller’s rage in
The Gin Game and the (non)verbal resilience of the minor characters in
This is the Peaceable Kingdom are complemented by the indiscernible sounds of Mrs. Shapiro attempting to speak in Yiddish (
T. Williams 1981, pp. 335, 338–40, 345, 349–50). Following the appeal of Haim Hazan, I argue that along with her uncontrolled enfreaked movements, seemingly meaningless (“the ancient mother makes greedy sound, mouth open”, “still opening and shutting her mouth, her head lolling this way and that”, “gulping sounds” pp. 349, 351–52), the Fourth Ager resists the repulsion of her son.
In both plays, the invectivity of Weller, Fonsia, Lucretia, and African American characters is born from the conflictual circumstances and is accompanied by strong emotional responses, including rage, despair, and violence, to the loss of power, which includes physical decline. The invective utterances “resignify insult as empowerment” (
Kanzler 2021, p. 29), forming resilience among the vulnerable actors. As long as they demonstrate resilience, they are no longer susceptible to vulnerability. Thus, invectivity provokes and escalates existing conflicts and operates in the same vein as enfreakment, which uses fabrication for its sensationalism aims.
3.3. Enfreakment’s Sensationalism of Tragicomedy
Michael Mangan argues that tragedy is closely connected to old age because the genre tackles existential issues, particularly in light of the years that have passed (
Mangan 2013, p. 59). Meanwhile, comedy, which evolved from political satire saturated with obscenities and criticism directed at individuals rather than their opinions, generalizes and stereotypes family and/or social oddities, for example, the misbehavior of an older adult whom the recipient disapproves (
Mangan 2013, p. 80). Functioning as an oxymoron, tragicomedy became a popular genre in post-World War II drama, coinciding with the rapid aging of the global population. Defining tragicomedy as a “short, frail, explosive, and bewildering” drama that balances comedy against tragedy in the “coexistence of amusement and pity, terror and laughter” (
Orr 1991, p. 1), John Orr describes the characters of the tragicomedy as “nobody in an unknowable world” wielding neither power nor other resources (
Orr 1991, p. 2). In applying comedic and serious perspectives to the drama script, the authors of the tragicomedy examine accompanying circumstances typical not only of rare individuals who manage to survive to late adulthood but also of a significant number of the Western aging population. A comedic layer of the genre is responsible for the construction of freakery. At the peak of the freak shows’ popularity in the mid-nineteenth century, the drama scholar and playwright Gustav Freytag mentions droll freaks as an element of comedy, alongside “political satire and humorous portraiture” (
Freytag [1894] 1900, p. 57)
8. Introducing the genre of the spectacle play as the dramatic variety of his time, Freytag envisions the tragicomedy. The principles of building the characters in both subgenres seem similar. In the spectacle play, the rising action sets up character motivations that lead to a gentler resolution of conflicts in the denouement. This structure conveniently manifests the protagonist’s determination in developing the plotline (
Freytag [1894] 1900, pp. 113–14). However, in the tragicomedy, the resolution of dramatic conflicts is open-ended. Another common feature of the two subgenres is the use of sensationalism. Highlighting buffoonery, opera, and comedy on stage, Freytag infers that “All is sought which can please, the newest, the most singular; and, again, what affords the great multitude most pleasure, thrusts all else aside” (
Freytag [1894] 1900, pp. 342–43).
In modern reflections on cultural products in the framework of pessimism, Joseph Packer and Ethan Stoneman single out the universal tendency of post(meta)modern distrust to penetrate different genres and media, “… rebelling against expectation and form, and emerging unexpectedly—during laughter, after catharsis, beneath an optimistic veneer …” (
Packer and Stoneman 2018, p. 20). The scholars question the blend of tragic and comic elements. If grave and comedic elements strike a balance, comedy can alleviate the weight of tragedy, offering relief through humor, whereas tragedy, paradoxically, can still evoke a sense of hope and reassurance (
Packer and Stoneman 2018, p. 21). A new articulation of the comedic elements in tragicomedy reveals aspects of non-normativity, continuing, along with the hype, the traditions of enfreakment. Creating novel cultural forms with pragmatic goals evokes sensationalism, which has become an established practice in entertainment.
The Gin Game enjoyed great popularity. After its Broadway premiere in 1977, the play was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize, which was awarded to Donald Coburn in 1978. Based on the play, a film was produced by RKO/Nederlander in 1981, followed by a TV adaptation in 2003. In addition, the play has undergone numerous theatrical revivals, both domestically and internationally, in the 21st century. I single out two non-verbal elements pertaining to the sensationalist aspect of Coburn’s tragicomedy: the attire of the protagonists and the melodramatic use of the storm, lightning, thunder, rain, and a choir singing a hymn at the climax of The Gin Game.
The former element is emphasized grotesquely at the protagonists’ first meeting. Weller wears an old bathrobe on his pajama top, and Fonsia is dressed in an old housecoat (
Coburn 1977, pp. 9–10). Though these wardrobe elements are meant for privacy and signify home, they marginalize older adults, enhancing ageist stereotyping of the aging identity in the first act of the tragicomedy. It should be noted that in the subsequent meetings, the characters are dressed more formally, and the unfolding of events takes a more serious turn.
The latter element echoes the finale of Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of King Lear; however, The Gin Game offers an open-ended ending, with Weller leaving the stage and Fonsia rocking back and forth in the glider. With its unresolved interpersonal conflict, Coburn’s drama still holds out hope for its protagonists: life continues, and it can take unexpected turns.
In contrast with
The Gin Game,
This is the Peaceable Kingdom was closed shortly after its premiere in 1978, yet it received its unexpected revival in a puppet theatre production in 2022. However, this theatrical solution, creating its own hype, correlates with the freaky nature of this dramatic piece. Detecting the origins of puppet shows in medieval London’s cultural life, Paul Semonin considers them to be “the ‘drolls,’ short comic performances, often featuring dwarfs, trained animals, and persons with natural anomalies” (
Semonin 1996, p. 77). For example, one such enterprise, “Bartholomew Fair was a theatrical extravaganza in which the monsters were normal, and their extraordinary form became part of a spectacle of the unnatural, the grotesque, and the lewd” (
Semonin 1996, p. 77). At the sideshows, puppets, wild animals, and freaks were exhibited equally (
Smithfield Market 2006). Thus, the medium of puppetry enhances the deeply unsettling ageism, showcasing the practice of enfreakment in Williams’s drama. Additionally, Mrs. Shapiro’s character assumes the features of a puppet in the finale of
This Is the Peaceable Kingdom. In the following excerpt of the play, the Fourth Ager is already dead, and her children try desperately to make their mother’s still body decent:
[<…> Bernice has unconsciously arranged the scarf with a rather coquettish bow on top of her <dead> mother’s head.] <…>
SAUL [noticing the bow on his mother’s head]: My God, that scarf, you got a Baby Snook’s bow on her head?!
BERNICE [weeping louder]: Mama’s jaws were open, her mouth was hanging wide open with no teeth!
SAUL: Untie it! A low comic’s bow tie!
[A journalist’s camera flashes in the corridor. Saul shouts furiously and starts a pace or two toward the journalist. He then turns and shields his dead mother’s chair from a second camera flash, reaching behind him to snatch off the scarf].
This mise-en-scène, with Mrs. Shapiro’s unintentionally coquettish bow, produces freakery. Saul’s response invokes the set’s enfreakment. Although there are even fewer comedic elements in the gallows humor drama
This is the Peaceable Kingdom than in
The Gin Game, this production attempts to reveal the possibility of hope for the spectatorship (
Repertoire 2022).