Big Maggie E-Book

John B. Keane

• Herausgeber: Mercier Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Seitenzahl: 165

Beschreibung

'Big Maggie 'J. B. Keane's most outspoken play' - The Irish Press 'Keane ... has brought the tyranny, the desperation and the frustration of the rural Irish matriarch roaring into the top twenties' 'A full-blooded, salty, earthy play with a great ring of truth and uproarious with comedy' - The Irish Times 'His depth of perception reveals a mature Keane' - Cork Examiner   The story of Big Maggie Polpin and her attempts to keep her family together after the death of her husband is an enduring theatre favourite. The dialogue crackles with hilarious, caustic putdowns as the indomitable Maggie deals with her feckless family and unwanted suitors. Everyone wants a part of Big Maggie and her property, but she has other ideas. John B. Keane's wonderful creation of a rural Irish matriarch ranks with Juno, Mommo and Molly Bloom as one of the great female creations of twentieth-century Irish literature. 

Leseprobe

MERCIER PRESS

3B Oak House, Bessboro Rd

Blackrock, Cork, Ireland.

www.mercierpress.ie

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Original three act version first published 1969

This two act version first published 1988

This edition 2014

© Play: John B. Keane Occasions, 1988

© Notes: Eilis Flanagan, 2014

ISBN: 978 1 78117 285 8

Epub ISBN: 978 1 78117 286 5

Mobi ISBN: 978 1 78117 287 2

Big Maggie is a copyright play and may not be performed without a licence. Application for a licence for amateur performances must be made in advance to the Drama League of Ireland, The Mill Theatre, Dundrum, Dublin 16. Terms for professional performances may be had from JBK Occasions, 37 William Street, Listowel, Co. Kerry.

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.

Contents

Characters

ACT ONE

Scene 1

Scene 2

Scene 3

ACT TWO

Scene 1

Scene 2

Scene 3

Introduction to NOTES

Characters

Maggie Polpin

Katie Polpin

Gert Polpin

Maurice Polpin

Mick Polpin

Teddy Heelin

Mary Madden

Mrs Hanna Madden

Mr Byrne

Old Man and Old Woman

Mourners

Walter Polpin

Themes/Issues

Irish Rural life

Family

Relationships

Marriage and Sexuality

Gender Roles

Religion

Land, inheritance and emigration

Cultural Context/Social Setting

Religion

Gender

Class

Family

General Vision and Viewpoint

Narrative

Characters

Themes

Atmosphere

Literary Genre

Narrative

Plot

Characterisation

Staging and performance

Soliloquy

Humour

Language and Symbolism

Relationships

Familial relationships

Maggie and Walter

Maggie and Teddy

Maggie and Byrne

Katie and Toss Melch

Katie and Johnny Conlon

Maurice and Mary Madden

Gert and Teddy

Hero, Heroine, Villain

Maggie Polpin

Maurice

Mr Byrne

Old Man and Old Woman

Glossary

About the Author

About the Publisher

Characters

MAGGIE POLPIN

GERT POLPIN

KATIE POLPIN

MAURICE POLPIN

MICK POLPIN

TEDDY HEELIN

MARY MADDEN

MRS MADDEN

MR BYRNE

OLD MAN

OLD WOMAN

MOURNERS

PRIEST

Big Maggiewas first produced by Gemini Productions on 20 January 1969 at the Opera House, Cork.

This revised two-act version ofBig Maggie, edited by Ben Barnes, was first presented in the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, on Monday 21 November 1988.

ACT ONE

Scene 1

[Action takes place in a graveyard. A near middle-aged woman dressed in black is seated on a headstone buttress smoking a cigarette, with her handbag clutched between her knees.

In the background can be heard the sound of earth falling on a coffin. A man and woman, both old, stop to pay their respects. In turn they shake hands with MAGGIE POLPIN]

Old Man: Sorry for your trouble, Maggie, he was a good man, God be good to him.

Maggie: He was so.

Old Woman: He was a good man, if he had a failing, Maggie, ’twas a failing many had.

Old Man: He had a speedy release, God be good to him and that’s a lot.

Old Woman: Worse if he was after spending six or seven months in a sick bed.

Maggie: He went quick and that was the way he wanted it.

Old Woman: That was a blessing.

Old Man: [Emphatically] That was a lot all right. Make no mistake! We can’t all go the way we’d like.

Maggie: We can’t.

Old Man: You may say we can’t! There’s no one can.

Old Woman: He was a cheerful sort of a man.

Maggie: Cheerful is the word.

Old Man: What age was he?

Maggie: He was just turned sixty.

Old Man: He didn’t get a bad share of it.

Old Woman: There’s a lot never saw sixty.

Old Man: And a lot never will! We must be thankful for all things and accept the Holy Will of God.

Maggie: We must indeed! Well, I won’t be holding you up, if you’re in a hurry.

Old Man: I understand, Maggie. You want your own about you at a time like this. I was wondering if you’d have any notion where Madge Gibbons is buried? There’s no stone over her.

Maggie: I’ve no idea! Sure isn’t one grave as good as another. ’Tis the thought that counts you know!

[Old man and old woman exit and GERT enters]

Gert: Won’t you go over to lay on the wreaths?

Maggie: I won’t.

Gert: But, Mother …

Maggie: Don’t but me now, like a good girl. I’m in no humour for it.

Gert: I just thought it would be the correct thing to do.

Maggie: You’re not old enough yet to know what is correct and what is not correct. God forgive me if there’s two things I can’t endure ’tis the likes of them two caterwaulin’ about the dead and the other is the thump of clods on a timber coffin. I couldn’t bear to watch that gang around the trench and they trying to look sorry.

Gert: Can I go over to help with the laying of the wreaths?

Maggie: No! Your brothers and sisters can do that. ’Tisn’t that the wreaths will do him any good.

Gert: Oh, mother, how can you say a thing like that!

Maggie: It’s the truth! God forgive me ’tis a hard thing to say about my own husband, but that’s what they’ll be saying in the pubs after the funeral. ’Tis what everybody knows. I’m not a trained mourner, Gert. I can’t olagón or moan or look for the arm of another hypocrite to support me.

Gert: He was no saint but he was my father. [Rebelliously] I’m going over to the grave.

Maggie: You will stay where you are. I have enough to contend with without my youngest wanting to desert me in my hour of need. Call Byrne there! He’s on the verge of the crowd somewhere.

Gert: [Calls, in a loud whisper] Mr Byrne … Mr Byrne … [To MAGGIE] Katie has the wreaths in her arms, she’s left to do everything!

Maggie: She’s the only one he had any time for! He liked them sonsy and she’s all that. ’Twill be knocked out of her now though! I promise you that.

[Enter MR BYRNE. Easy-going with cap and in the act of putting a pipe in his mouth]

Byrne: Sorry for your trouble, Maggie. You too, miss.

Maggie: You look it too Byrne. Now I want a six foot high limestone monument, three feet across. Three inches thick.

Byrne: You’re the boss, Maggie.

Maggie: You can start tomorrow.

Byrne: ’Tis not customary, Maggie.

Maggie: What isn’t?

Byrne: They generally wait the three months before they put up a stone.

Maggie: Is it they will be paying you, or big Maggie Polpin?

Byrne: I don’t know that I’ll be able to do it tomorrow. I have to start on a Celtic cross for Fonsie MacMee.

Maggie: How long is Fonsie dead now?

Byrne: Going on the fourteen months. Why?

Maggie: Well, seeing that he’s waited so long, he’ll wait a few more days!

Byrne: I don’t know, mam. ’Tis commissioned with a bit.

Maggie: Suit yourself. If you won’t do it Cornelius Breen will do it for me.

Byrne: All right! All right! I’ll start tomorrow.

Maggie: Good! How much will it be? [Opens her purse]

Byrne: Well, I can’t say off hand now. There’s a lot of things to be taken into consideration.

Maggie: Six feet by three feet by three inches. You aren’t a school boy.

[BYRNE produces notebook and pencil and starts to do some writing]

Byrne: Six feet by three feet by three inches. What’s a quarter of eighteen feet?

Gert: Four and a half feet.

Byrne: [Writing] Four and a half feet.

Maggie: In the honour of God hurry up! ’Tisn’t a supermarket we’re putting over him!

Byrne: I don’t want to wrong you, mam!

Maggie: You won’t, Byrne.

Byrne: [Does a final bit of reckoning] I can’t do it for a penny less than £70.

Maggie: £60.

Byrne: Sorry!

Maggie: Cash!

Byrne: Oh, now! …

Maggie: On the nose.

Byrne: Materials is very dear, mam.

Maggie: £60 now.

Byrne: All right.

[MAGGIE hands him the £60. BYRNE counts it carefully]

Maggie: ’Tis all there, Byrne.

Byrne: I know, but I don’t want to wrong you, mam.

Maggie: The day you wrong me, Byrne, is the day you get me pregnant.

Byrne: All the Byrnes, big and small, wouldn’t do that, or couldn’t do that! We would need softer stone than you, Maggie.

[GERT giggles. In the background is the hum of the Rosary. MAGGIE produces a slip of paper]

Maggie: Here is what you’ll inscribe on it. ’Tis all made out.

[Hands him a slip of paper. BYRNE reads it out aloud]

Byrne ‘Walter Polpin. Died March twenty-fifth, nineteen-sixty-three. Aged sixty years. RIP.’ ’Twasn’t hard to make out that.

Maggie: Hard enough if you were me.

Byrne: No charge for a little extra. Fill it out a bit.

Maggie: That’s the lot. There’s no more to be said.

Byrne: Well now missus, ’tisn’t for me to say but they usually put ‘Erected by his devoted wife and family’ or ‘by his loving wife and family’ or some such thing in that line.

Maggie: Is that a fact! Well, Byrne, there’s enough lies written on the headstones of Ireland without my adding to them.

Byrne: I know moderate men that died, Maggie, and they were sorely missed.

Maggie: I don’t doubt it.

[BYRNE shakes his head and makes out a receipt]

Byrne: One last thing, Maggie. Which way do you want it facing?

Maggie: I’m easy about that, Byrne, so long as it don’t face towards me.

[BYRNE hands the receipt to MAGGIE. Exits shaking his head]

Gert: You didn’t hate him that much!

Maggie: Didn’t I now!

Gert: You couldn’t hate a person that much! What’s going to happen now?

Maggie: The first thing I’m going to do is call a meeting. And this will be the right quare meeting! There won’t be any proposing or seconding! I have a shop and a farm to run and they are going to be run profitably or not run at all.

Gert: Oh, come off it, there has to be money!

Maggie: Has there now!

Gert: Well, he was insured for thousands!

Maggie: You are getting a bit too forward for my liking. You’ll turn out like your father it you aren’t careful.

Gert: That’s not fair. I always took your side in everything!

Maggie: You did because you had to!

Gert: You’re rotten!

Maggie: You know very well he preferred Katie to you!

Gert: To you too!

Maggie:[Slaps her face] How dare you talk like that to your mother! I could paint a picture of your late, lamented father that would really shock you! [Looks with disapproval about her] This is one place I won’t be buried I can tell you that! I’ll fix that shortly too. The earth is a bad enough bed [Indicates cross] without bedposts like these.

[Enter two young men, dressed in sombre overcoats with black bands around their arms. The older of the two is Maggie’s son, MAURICE. The other is her son MICK]

Maurice: ’Twas a bloody big funeral.

Mick: They were there from the city of Limerick!

Maurice: And Tralee.

Mick: There was a car-load from Cork.

Maurice: A man with a Dublin accent shook hands with me.

Maggie: Did you fix with the gravediggers?

Maurice: That’s all settled.

Maggie: And the undertaker?

Maurice: Paid in full! Here’s the receipt.

[MAGGIE accepts receipt. Enter KATIE. Attractive girl in a sexy way, dressed in black though she is. She is about twenty-two]

Maggie: In the honour of God dry your eyes and don’t be making a show of yourself!

Katie: I’m entitled to cry when my father is dead.

Maggie: ’Tis long before this you should have cried for him!

Katie:[Drying her eyes] Maybe I did.

Maggie: Your bladder is near your eyes I’m thinking.

Maurice: Talk easy let ye or we’ll be noted!

Maggie: We’re noted long ago! [To sons] Maybe the two of you will turn into men now. Long enough you stood back from him!

Maurice: That’s not fair!

Gert: What about the times he blackguarded her?

Maggie: You were no men, you didn’t haul out and level him.

Mick: He was a big man.

Maggie: Wasn’t there two of you?

Maurice: Let me out of it! I was never a man to come between husband and wife, let alone my father and mother.

Maggie: You let him abuse me!

Mick: You were well able for him! Anyone that abused you wound up second in the long run!

Maggie: Wait till I get you home!

Mick: It was never a home, ma.

Maggie: Your father saw to that.

Maurice: Oh, come on for the love of God! We haven’t stopped squawking at one another since he died.

Gert: Maybe now that he’s out of the way we might turn into some sort of a family again.

Katie: That’s a terrible thing to say!

Gert: You were a great one always for closing your eyes at the dirt under your feet!

Katie: I notice a very courageous line of chatter now that he’s safely out of the way.

Maggie: I’m warning you, miss, to hold your tongue! There are a few changes coming shortly that might not altogether appeal to you.

Katie: The King is dead! Long live the King!

Maggie: That’s right. Say your piece now because, believe you me, there’s a time coming when you won’t have much to say for yourself!

Katie: What are you going to do? Lock me in, is it?

Maggie: There’ll be no need for that! You were always used to the good times! We’ll see what you’re like when the good times are taken away from you.

Maurice: This is a terrible way to be conducting ourselves out here in public.

Maggie: You’re right Maurice. Come on away! We have a shop to open.

Katie: You’re not going to open the shop today, surely to God!

Maggie: Why not?

Katie: He’s only after being buried!

Maggie: Not another word out of you madam. Come on, all of you! [Is about to exit]

Man’s voice: [Off] Mrs Polpin … Mrs Polpin …

Maggie:[Peers in the direction of voice] Who is that?

Gert: It’s Crawford’s traveller.

Mick: Nice time of the day to turn up for a funeral.

Katie: Better late than never.

[Enter TEDDY HEELIN. He is a young man, extremely good-looking]

Teddy: Terribly sorry I’m late, Mrs Polpin. [He shakes her hand in sympathy] Sorry for your trouble.

Maggie: [Resignedly] I know that. I know that Mr Heelin. ’Twas good of you to come.

Teddy: I had to break a journey. It was only by accident I heard about it. I was on my way to Limerick and I pulled up to get some petrol. The next thing you know the attendant said that Walter Polpin was dead. I hardly believed him. [Takes KATIE’s hand] Terribly sorry for your trouble, Katie.

Katie: I know that, Teddy. ’Twas nice of you to come.

Teddy: ’Twas the least I could do.

[TEDDY goes and shakes hands with GERT]

Teddy: Sorry Gert.

Gert: Thank you, Teddy.

[TEDDY shakes hands silently with MICK and MAURICE. He then produces a mass card]

Teddy: [To MAURICE] Will you take this? [Notices that MAURICE already has a bundle of same, he hands card to him]

Maurice: Thanks.

Teddy: Sorry again, Mrs Polpin. If I’d known I’d have dropped everything to be here on time.

Maggie: We all know that.

Teddy: If there’s anything I can do. Anything. Don’t hesitate to ask.

Maurice: We’d better be going.

Teddy: Listen, I’ve got the car outside. I can take some of you down.

Gert: [Moves quickly to his side] I think I’ll go with you.

Katie: So will I. That’s if there’s room for the two of us, Teddy.

Teddy: Oh, there’s plenty of room.

Maggie: No. Katie, you go with your brothers. I’ll go with Gert and Mr Heelin. I’ve a few matters to settle in town, that’s if you don’t mind waiting a few moments while I look after my affairs, Mr Heelin.

Teddy: I have all day.

Maggie: That’s settled then. Let’s get out of this place.

[Exit TEDDY holding GERT’S arm. They are followed by MAGGIE]

Maurice: I’m not sure that I care for that fellow.

Katie: Oh, shut up. You’re just jealous of him.

Mick: They say he’s a right whoresmaster.

Katie: I wouldn’t know about that.

[MICK and MAURICE exit. Enter old man and woman still searching]

Old Man: There’s no sign of her anywhere.

Old Woman: Maybe ’tisn’t here she’s buried at all.

Old Man: We can’t find Madge Gibbon’s grave.

Katie: Ask Mr Byrne. He knows all about the graves around here.

Old Man: Thank you, miss. We’ll do that.

Katie: Don’t forget to say a prayer for my father while you’re praying for Madge Gibbons.

[Exit KATIE]

Old Man: There’s no doubt but he left a mighty strange litter behind him.

Old Woman: That last one isn’t the worst of them.

Old Man: Yes! There’s a bit of spirit there.

Old Woman: Big Maggie Polpin is a dab hand at breaking spirits.

[Enter BYRNE]

Byrne: Good day folks!

Old Man: Good day to you, Mr Byrne! Fine funeral considering.

Byrne: Yes! Considering.

Old Man: They say he left her comfortable.

Byrne: Oh, there’s no shortage of money. The shop does a good business and that’s as good a farm as ever threw up a cow.

Old Woman: He was a hard man, God be good to him.

Byrne:[Casually]There was plenty harder but they got away with it. He was a man I personally liked. She was wrong for him. She married him for the security.

Old Man: He was fond of a woman now and again. That’s what they say.

Byrne: And by the way you weren’t, that’s if you ever got the chance!

Old Man: Who is without a fault, sir?

Byrne: He got his own way always. That’s what happened to him. He had the money and the appearance and when you have those you get the opportunities. Still, I liked him. She was wrong for him. Another woman might have made a better fist of him. ’Tis a mistake to fight fire with fire.

Old Woman: They say he drank too.

Byrne: A bottle of whiskey was no bother to him before his breakfast.

Old Man: Or after it.

Old Woman: Whiskey and women. Sure invoices for a coffin.

Byrne: He wasn’t the worst of them!

Old Man: Still you must admit now that he sired a noble share of likely men.

Byrne: Don’t I know it! Didn’t I see his black hair and big jaw on several here today. Maggie was never able to keep a servant girl in the house you know!

Old Man: Is that a fact?

Byrne: Oh, that’s gospel! There was no stallion the equal of that man if you’ll pardon me saying so, missus.

Old Man: God knows he left a hard woman behind him.

Byrne: She was all right at first. ’Twas the world hardened her. I remember her a handsome girl. She had no real love for him. He was a good catch at the time.

Old Man: She’s no sack of oats now.

Byrne: God bless her, she’s nicely preserved all right. I won’t deny that!

Old Woman: What made him turn from a fine woman like that?

Byrne: Wisha, will you tell me, missus, what turns them all? I knew honest men and upright men, sober men and sane men and every one of them was betrayed sooner or later by a rogue of a dickie, if you’ll forgive the expression, mam.

Old Woman: Oh, God save us! ’Tis a hard plight for an honest man.

Byrne: Did God know what He was doing, mam, or didn’t He?

Old Woman: God knew.

Byrne: Right you are then! Where does that leave us?

Old Man: As wise as ever! I do often say to myself, why do people be so slow to kiss goodbye to this goddamn world of pains and aches and puking. Hah!

Old Woman: Robbery and hypocrisy and murder from one end of the day to the other.

Old Man: Life is the grimmest loan of all, my friend. The interest is too high in the end.

Old Woman: ’Tis the cross of man, life is.

Byrne: You’ll be thankful to be leaving it so.

Old Man: Listen here to me.

Byrne: Yes?

Old Man: