Pinball

by Alison Lyssa

  Playwright’s Biography

  ALISON LYSSA writes plays, poetry, short fiction and essays. Pinball owes much to the Women and Theatre Project which Chris Westwood and Jude Kuring initiated in 1980 to redress the dire lack of opportunities for women in Sydney’s theatres. The reading of Pinball, directed by Fay Mokotow at Nimrod Theatre, Sydney, led to productions there and at Troupe, Adelaide (1981).

  In 1998, Debra Hely directed Pinball for Newcastle Repertory, NSW, and a reading was staged at the International Theatre Conference: “From Sappho to the Third Millennium: Homosexuality in Mythology, Religions and Plays”, Lesbos, Greece. Duck Duck Goose Theatre will perform Pinball at the Tap Gallery, Darlinghurst, for Sydney’s Mardi Gras, Feb. 2014.

  Alison’s play The Boiling Frog (1984) premiered at Nimrod Theatre, Sydney, and has also been performed in Adelaide, SA; Cygnet, Tas.; Wagga Wagga, NSW; and, Canberra, ACT. Alison’s Who’d’ve Thought? (1990) created with the Women’s Theatre Project, Telopea, NSW, was nominated for an AWGIE (1991). In 1992, aided by an interpreter, Joyce Chiu, Alison helped the Cantonese–speaking Careforce Women’s Theatre Group, Cabramatta, NSW, to write and perform their bilingual play, What can a mother do?

  Alison’s study at the Australian Film Television and Radio School led to the filming of her short screenplay, The Silk, adapted from Joy Cowley’s short story. The Silk received an Australian Film Industry nomination for Best Screenplay in a Short Film (1994), and won an ATOM Award (1995).

  Alison has taught Writing for Performance and Creative Writing at the University of Technology, Sydney, the University of Western Sydney, and Macquarie University, where she gained her Masters for a thesis entitled “Performing Australia’s Black and White History” (2006), and her PhD for a study called “Terror on Stage”, which includes an original playscript, Hurricane Eye: A Masque for the Twenty-first Century (2014).

  Author’s Note

  * * *

  Lesbians possess a sexuality which is by definition active and actively out of the control of men, therefore requiring the heightened scrutiny of the courts.

  … When lesbians try to keep custody of their children through the courts they face a wealth of prejudices relating to single mothers, lesbians, female sexuality and the construction of motherhood in this society.

  … discrimination against lesbians in custody cases is tied to a continuum of scrutiny regarding women’s sexuality and as such lesbian custody is an issue for all women.

  … Values are revealed in the use of language by the judges, reflecting disgust at active female sexuality, presumptions of disease or mental illness, lesbianism as a general defect, and heterosexuality as normal and preferable.

  Jenny Milbank, ‘Lesbian Custody: a Feminist Issue’

  Polemic 2.3 (1991), pp.142–145.

  When I wrote Pinball in 1980, bashing it out on an old typewriter, I would never have supposed that in 1996 I’d be going into the State Library of New South Wales, keying ‘lesbian custody’ into a brilliant CD-Rom search facility and discovering instantly that the struggle was still going on. Women are still facing judges who make the presumption that a lesbian parent is likely to be harmful to a child.

  I agree with Jenny Milbank that the judges’ scrutiny of lesbians has implications for all women. In Pinball, Theenie is engaged in a struggle not only to hold on to her right to nurture and love her child, but also to construct a world where she can hold onto and nurture herself. Her powerful opponents do not want to hear the questions she keeps asking. Each in their own way, her father, her brother and Solomon, regard her search for her own truth as so dangerous, they draw on centuries of tradition to control the very language that she uses. They try to use her love for her child to make her conform to their precepts. When she refuses, they fight to force her compliance so they can control the destiny of future generations.

  Unlike Cordelia in King Lear, Theenie does not allow herself to be taken captive and hanged. Whereas Cordelia is alienated from her sisters and isolated from all other women, Theenie is able to draw on the support of Axis and Vandelope. They remind her that to discover herself she has to take risks and challenge the powerful prejudices that want to destroy her.

  Many critics at the time were scathing of my play, accusing me of a biased and distorted view of the world. All these years later Jenny Milbank’s article reminds me that unfortunately I did not pull the character of Solomon out of nowhere. A number of his outrageously anti-women comments came from actual court transcripts. Many judges today still seem to fear women’s self-determination. At the end of the play Solomon is horrified when he realises the women have resisted him effectively and that power is slipping from him.

  When I wrote Pinball I hoped it would not only present my ideas and tell a story, but entertain as well. I’m excited that the play is continuing to have a life, and want to thank again all the people who gave their advice and support in its creation.

  To the memory of John Hargreaves 1945–1996

  and many others who have died too young.

  FIRST PRODUCTION

  The Women and Theatre Project gave Pinball a workshop and a public reading in February 1981, directed by Fay Mokotow.

  Pinball was first performed by the Nimrod Theatre Company in the Downstairs Theatre, Sydney, on 9 September 1981 with the following cast:

  THEENIE Jenny Ludlam

  AXIS Natalie Bate

  VANDELOPE/ MIRIAM Kerry Walker

  LOUISE/ VIOLET Cecily Polson

  SYLVESTER/ ARCHIBALD Roger Leach

  SOLOMON/ KURT/ WAITER/

  SERGEANT/ HOTEL GUEST Paul Bertram

  Directed by Chris Johnson

  Designed by Kate Jason Smith

  Lighting designed by Kevin McKie

  Sound effects by Michael Carlos

  Stage Managed by Stephanie Walkem

  CHARACTERS

  THEENIE, artist and mother of Alabastar

  AXIS, Theenie’s partner

  VANDELOPE, anarcho-lesbian bicyclist

  SYLVESTER, Theenie’s ex-husband

  LOUISE, Sylvester’s wife

  VIOLET, Theenie’s mother

  ARCHIBALD, Theenie’s father

  KURT, Theenie’s brother, and Solomon’s alter ego

  MIRIAM, Kurt’s wife

  SOLOMON, a biblical figure

  WAITER, SERGEANT, HOTEL GUEST, Solomon’s alter egos

  The play is intended to be performed by six actors. ALABASTAR remains invisible. The company contribute the CROWD’s offstage voices.

  SETTING

  Non-naturalistic and fun. Bare stage. Lighting creates atmosphere, for example: a stained glass effect for Solomon’s Bible reading and the Christening; flickering lights for the pinball parlour; a green light for the billiard room; a sweep of car headlights and a whirling blue police light for the outdoor scene at night where the women graffiti the wall. A table starts life as a pinball machine, and converts as needed to other purposes, for example, as restaurant or billiard table.

  Lyrics to the song Don’t be too Polite, Girls, are copyright © 1985 Glen Tomasetti.

  Pinball is also published in:

  Michelene Wandor (ed.) Plays by Women, Vol IV., (London: Methuen, 1985) 119-159.

  PROLOGUE

  * * *

  Pinball machines lit. Electronic firing. Organ music to suit Old Testament drowns pinball machines. Pinball machines go out. Stained glass window lit.

  SOLOMON enters wearing biblical robes.

  SOLOMON: [reading from 1 Kings 3, v 9–28] ‘… and God said to Solomon … “Behold I give you a wise and discerning mind, so that none like you has been before you and none like you shall arise after you. I give you also what you have not asked, both riches and honour …”

  ‘And Solomon awoke and behold, it was a d
ream …

  ‘Then two harlots came to the king … The one woman said, “Oh, my lord, this woman and I dwell in the same house: and I gave birth to a child … Then on the third day after I was delivered, this woman also gave birth; and we were alone; there was no one else with us in the house; only we two were in the house. And this woman’s son died in the night, because she lay on it. And she arose at midnight and took my son from beside me … and laid it in her bosom, and laid her dead son in my bosom. When I rose in the morning to nurse my child, behold it was dead, but when I looked at it closely in the morning, behold it was not the child that I had borne”. But the other woman said, “No, the living child is mine and the dead child is yours”.

  Then the king said, “Bring me a sword”. So a sword was brought before the king, and the king said, “Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one, and half to the other”.’

  Organ music. ALABASTAR’s voice, making a sound of firing, builds up to a sound battle with the organ music. The organ music, defeated, fades. Stained glass window fades. Blackout.

  ACT ONE

  * * *

  SCENE ONE

  Pinball parlour. VANDELOPE enters. Sound of pinball machines.

  SOLOMON: The child, Alabastar, here in a pinball parlour?

  He introduces himself to the audience.

  Solomon’s the name.

  He looks with disdain at a machine.

  Caveman’s the game? Sometimes one needs an audience while collecting evidence. Thirteen boys, three girls and you have to look in the dictionary before you know what that one is.

  VANDELOPE: Piss off!

  She plays a video game.

  Jeep! Blll! Loooop!

  She makes electronic firing noises.

  Score two hundred!

  SOLOMON: I prefer the old-fashioned kind with flippers. One can see where the balls go.

  VANDELOPE [making firing noises] Bluumm! Tank! You beauty. Score five hundred! Brrip! United Nations truck.

  She swears.

  Soya beans. Lose three seconds.

  SOLOMON ‘And the voice of the turtle dove

  Is heard in our land.’

  VANDELOPE: Ooops, Vandelope, there goes El Salvador.

  SOLOMON: This is the space age. Why aren’t they home playing cowboys and indians like we did?

  VANDELOPE: They send kids here to school. Teaches them how to talk to coloured lights bipping, face to face.

  SOLOMON: Where is the boy? He must be somebody’s son.

  Madam! I’m looking for the owner of a son.

  VANDELOPE: I’m not into that. I’m an anarcho-lesbian bicyclist.

  SOLOMON: He was last seen with a pile of coins, asking for a cigarette, and he must be all of ten.

  VANDELOPE: See if he’ll lend me twenty cents.

  SOLOMON: This little boy has potential.

  VANDELOPE: If men had to give birth to children they’d pop out of their skulls just like that—fully clothed and brainwashed, drooling ‘Come to where the flavour is’.

  SOLOMON: You women have gone out to work, and a whole generation suffers from neglect.

  VANDELOPE: You know why I wear overalls? So when a jerk like you pops out at me, I can put my arms in here and give myself a cuddle.

  SOLOMON: ‘I compare you, my love

  To a mare of Pharaoh’s chariots.’

  VANDELOPE: Get knackered. Give him an inch and he thinks he’s Ben Hur.

  SOLOMON: I’ll remember that.

  VANDELOPE: I come here to get away from it and the patriarchy follows me. It thinks I’m an addict.

  She checks her pockets.

  Destitute!

  You know they’re making a fortune out of you, so you have another game to take your mind off it. Pigs. I was going to hang onto enough for a thickshake.

  She pulls down a sign with graffiti on it: ‘THE RICH COME HERE TO FORGET, THE POOR TO DREAM’. She goes out.

  SOLOMON: Bring in the harlots,

  I’ll judge who’s his mother.

  Sharpen my sword,

  I’ve already won …

  Only a harlot would cut up a son.

  He sees what Vandelope has done.

  Concubine! Vandal!

  VANDELOPE: [off] Yep!

  SOLOMON: I’ll catch her later. Now there are more important visitors.

  SCENE TWO

  SOLOMON conjures the pinball machine into a table. Uses his Biblical robe to make a formal tablecloth, revealing him dressed as an elegant WAITER. He discovers that the cloth has graffiti on it: ‘EAT THE RICH’. He hastily turns the cloth over. Adds two chairs. An expensive menu. Lights out on pinball machines.

  WAITER: ‘He brought me to the banqueting house,

  And his banner over me was love.’

  LOUISE enters with a thick folder of notes.

  Madam, table for one?

  LOUISE: Two. Three.

  She sits

  Merci. A perfectly easy restaurant. They can’t possibly be late. I wonder if ten-year-olds like steak without chips. It’s going to be a big responsibility. Someone’s life to organise. I want to give the boy the choice that leads men up.

  WAITER: She is the perfect flower who married the father yesterday.

  SYLVESTER arrives and gives LOUISE a kiss.

  SYLVESTER: Louise, darling.

  LOUISE: Darling.

  SYLVESTER: Sorry I’m late, Professor Sinclair wanted to see me.

  LOUISE: I’ve put your notes together for you.

  She hands him the notes.

  I’ve added a piece on Althusser, picking up the themes of collaboration and resistance.

  SYLVESTER: Darling, that’s wonderful. The Prof was delighted with the first draft. He’s given me a pat on the back.

  LOUISE: Darling.

  SYLVESTER: You’ve been such a support. I should put your name on it, as co-author.

  LOUISE: No, darling, I couldn’t do that.

  SYLVESTER: Yes, we could, darling.

  LOUISE: No, really, darling, I couldn’t. It’s yours.

  SYLVESTER: We’re so happy together. Shall we start with the terrine?

  WAITER: ‘Eat, O friends, and drink:

  Drink deeply, O lovers!’

  LOUISE: Mmm. Darling, weren’t we going to do this with Alabastar?

  SYLVESTER: Darling, could you persuade him to have quail in orange brandy when he’s walking past ‘Big Mac’ in neon lights?

  LOUISE: You left him there? For lunch? To do what he wants? Darling, you don’t know who might be there.

  SYLVESTER: Louise, darling, relax. They do the garlic prawns beautifully here.

  WAITER: Garlic prawn.

  SYLVESTER: Alabastar would be bumping the table leg every time you and I looked at one another.

  WAITER: Take your time, sir.

  LOUISE: I love it when we’re perfect together.

  WAITER: Rack of lamb, Madam?

  ‘Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate

  Behind your veil.’

  LOUISE: I do so want to get on well with Alabastar.

  SYLVESTER: I want you to think of him as ours.

  LOUISE: After lunch, should we take him to the museum? The art gallery? Sylvester darling? You have organised the afternoon free?

  SYLVESTER: Mmm. Yes, darling. The art gallery, no. Perhaps the fish soup?

  WAITER: Bouillabaisse.

  LOUISE: Mmmmm. Do you think he could do with some shopping, now we’ve got him in town. New jeans? A cricket bat?

  SYLVESTER: He wants a Space Invaders machine—to take home.

  LOUISE: That’s ridiculous. I mean, that can’t be good for him.

  SYLVESTER: I had to promise it to him, darling. It’s been difficult for him, for both of us. Please understand.

  LOUISE: Darling, if he’s going to spend puberty with a pinball machine, you ought to book him into a decent school.

  The WAITER covers the graffiti sign with chalkboard menu: ‘SPECIALS OF THE DAY’.

  SYLVES
TER: We can’t move fast, my darling. Theenie won’t let us. I know she won’t. Louise, I love you. Louise, Theenie wouldn’t just make an issue out of it, she’d make a revolution.

  LOUISE: Let her keep her ugly old sandshoes and struggles, but if she goes on dragging Alabastar into them, he’ll never learn how to sit down to dinner in the right company. She’s not his mother any more. She is his ex.

  SYLVESTER: My ex, darling. Would you prefer the Balmain bugs au beurre? He’s happy and learning at Edgebank Public. Plenty of his friends will be going on to the local high school. It’s not as though we live in an unsavoury area.

  LOUISE: I’m rather taken by the rainbow trout. Be reasonable, darling. I’ve seen how it hurts you when people ask what school you went to and you have to answer Cardigan Boys High.

  SYLVESTER: That was while I was fighting for a lectureship. Now that next semester I’ve been offered the Marxist Studies Course, it’s good that I’ve had exposure to the mixed lens of humanity. You know what those students are into. Anything that flies in the face of convention. Consciousness raising. Food co-ops. I can’t send Alabastar to a private school. Student assessment of lecturer: nil.

  LOUISE: But remember how you suffered. How you lost that tooth for reading Pride and Prejudice in the playground. Do you know what my favourite, is, dearest? Avocado vinaigrette.

  WAITER: Avocado vinaigrette.

  He goes.

  SYLVESTER: Superb. Louise, don’t you see? I can bite on that capped tooth and remember. When you were at school, didn’t you feel that life had breadth?

  LOUISE: Darling, it was enriching at Lamington Ladies College: hockey, front row, Byron, Chapel at eight, Michelangelo, the annual GPS Regatta and Oedipus Rex. We must get Alabastar off to a good start.

  SYLVESTER: We have.

  LOUISE: If we can get the tomato sauce off his tee shirt.

  WAITER re-enters with table napkins.

  WAITER: ‘As an apple tree among the trees of the wood,

  So is my beloved among young men.’

  SYLVESTER: You’re growing to love him, aren’t you? The shoulders on him!

  WAITER: ‘His neck is like the tower of David