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)

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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 14

by Bertolt Brecht


  SOSTAKOVITCH: What’s the point of words like that?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA sitting at the table with the three others: Does it really have to be ‘Hat, Dog, Fish’? We’re old and we haven’t got all that long to learn the words we need.

  THE TEACHER with a smile: It doesn’t matter what words you learn from.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Why not? How do you write ‘Worker’ for instance? Pavel Sostakovitch here would be interested in that.

  SOSTAKOVITCH: We don’t talk about ‘Hats’.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: He’s a metalworker.

  THE TEACHER: But you use those letters.

  ONE OF THE WORKERS: But the words ‘Class War’ have letters in them too.

  THE TEACHER: Right, but you have to start with the simplest, not the hardest. ‘Hat’ is simple.

  SOSTAKOVITCH: ‘Class War’ is a lot simpler.

  THE TEACHER: There’s no such thing as Class War. Let’s be clear about that.

  SOSTAKOVITCH standing up: I can’t learn anything from you if you think there’s no class war.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: You’re here to learn how to read and write, and you can do that here. Reading is class war.

  THE TEACHER: That’s a lot of rubbish, in my view. ‘Reading is class war’ – what on earth does that mean? What’s the point of such talk? Writing. So here’s ‘Worker’. Copy it down.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: ‘Reading is class war’ means: once we can read and write we’ll be able to write our own pamphlets and read our books. Then we can direct the class war.

  THE TEACHER: Let me tell you people something. I’m a teacher, and for twelve years now I’ve taught reading and writing, but I have to admit: I know in my heart that it’s all rubbish. Books are rubbish. They just make mankind worse. Take a simple peasant, he’s a better person because he’s not been spoiled by civilisation.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: So how d’you write ‘Class War’? Pavel Sostakovitch, you must keep your hand steady, or it’ll shake so your writing’s not clear.

  THE TEACHER writing: Class War. To Sostakovitch: You must write in a straight line and not go beyond the margin. Those who don’t respect the margins don’t respect the law. Generation after generation has amassed piles of knowledge and written piles of books. And we have never progressed so far technically. But what has it done for us? We have never seen such confusion. The whole box of tricks should be chucked into the depths of the sea, all those books and machines into the Black Sea. Defend yourselves against knowledge! Finished yet? Sometimes I get completely drowned in melancholia. What, I ask myself, can such truly great thoughts – thoughts that encompass not just the Now but the Always and the Eternal, the Human Condition in its essence – what can they have to do with class war?

  SOSTAKOVITCH: Thoughts like that are no use. As you drown you’re exploiting us.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Shut up, Pavel Sostakovitch. Please, how do you spell ‘Exploitation’?

  THE TEACHER: Exploitation. That’s another word only found in books. Fancy me ever having exploited anyone!

  SOSTAKOVITCH: You only say that because you get none of the loot.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA to Sostakovitch: The W in ‘Class War’ is exactly the same as the W in ‘Worker’.

  THE TEACHER: Knowledge doesn’t help. Knowledge doesn’t help. Goodness helps.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: If you don’t need your knowledge, just let us have it.

  PRAISE OF LEARNING

  sung by the learners:

  Study the simple things: nothing

  Comes too late for those whose day’s

  About to dawn.

  Study your ABC. True, it’s not enough, but

  Study it. Don’t neglect your potential

  But learn! Knowledge is essential.

  You must be ready to take over.

  Study, tramp on a bench!

  Study, man under sentence!

  Study, wife in the kitchen!

  Study, man of seventy!

  You must be ready to take over.

  Back to the classroom, you displaced person!

  Get hold of more knowledge, freezing man!

  Hungry man, grab for a book: books will be your weapons.

  You must be ready to take over.

  Don’t hesitate to question things, comrade.

  Don’t just accept them but

  See for yourself.

  What you yourself don’t know

  You don’t know.

  Check through the invoices.

  You have to pay them.

  Learn how to point to each single item

  Ask how it came to be there.

  You must be ready to take over.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA getting up: That’s enough for today. We can’t go on taking in all that much at once. Or else Pavel Sostakovitch will be having another sleepless night. Thanks from us all, Nikolai Ivanovitch. We can only tell you that your teaching us to read and write is a great help.

  THE TEACHER: I can’t believe that. But don’t think I’m saying your opinions are worthless. I’ll come back to that point at our next lesson.

  d

  IVAN VESSOVCHIKOV CAN’T RECOGNISE HIS OWN BROTHER

  IVAN: I thought I’d see how you were doing, Mrs Vlassova, and bring you some of our leaflets. Has Pavel written?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Not a word. I’m very worried about him.

  THE TEACHER: You don’t need to worry about a man like your son.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: The worst of it is that I never know what he is doing, or what they are doing to him. For instance I don’t even know if they are giving him enough to eat and if he isn’t freezing. Do you know if they get blankets in there? I’m very proud of him. Lucky me, I have a son who is needed. She recites:

  PRAISE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY

  Some get in the way.

  When they’ve gone it’s an improvement

  But when he has gone you miss him.

  When oppression is on the increase

  Many become discouraged

  But his courage grows greater.

  He’ll mount a campaign for a

  Penny on wages and for hotter tea

  And the right to control the state

  He’ll say to Property:

  Where do you come from?

  He’ll ask Opinions:

  Whom do you serve?

  Where no one has raised a voice

  You’ll find him speaking

  And where men live under oppression and much talk of Fate is heard

  He’ll see the names are published.

  Where he sits at table

  Dissatisfaction’s sure to sit there too.

  The food will be bad

  And the room be found too cramping.

  Wherever they chase him, there

  Will come disorder, and where they’ve expelled him

  There will unrest remain.

  IVAN: Since they were arrested it’s as if the earth had swallowed them up. Nobody can get to them. It’s bad for the movement, for instance because Pavel is the only one who knows the addresses of those peasants who asked about our paper. And nothing is more important just now than educating the landless peasants.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Yes, I’ve often thought we should be talking to the peasants.

  THE TEACHER: It’d be a lot of people to talk to: 120 million peasants, you couldn’t do it. Anyway revolution’s not on in this country and with these people. Your Russian won’t ever make a revolution. That’s something for the West. The Germans are revolutionaries, they’ll make a revolution. As I was telling my friend Sachar Smerdyakov: these people are putting out a paper full of nothing but foreign words: stuff they themselves can’t understand.

  Ivan laughs.

  THE TEACHER: So what?

  IVAN: Where have you put that nice portrait of the Tsar? The room looks quite naked.

  THE TEACHER: I thought I’d take it down for a bit. One gets bored, having to look at it all the time. Tell me, why is there nothing in your paper about the d
readful situation in our schools?

  IVAN: I only thought – surely you can’t have taken that picture down because you’re bored with it?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Don’t say that. Nikolai Ivanovitch is always wanting something fresh.

  IVAN: Indeed.

  THE TEACHER: Anyway I don’t like being treated as an idiot. I was asking you a question about your paper.

  IVAN: I can’t recall anything whatever being changed in your flat, Nikolai. That frame alone cost twelve roubles.

  THE TEACHER: Then I can hang the frame up again. You always treated me as if I were stupid, so that makes you stupid yourself.

  IVAN: I am surprised, Nikolai Ivanovitch; your subversive talk and your belittling of our Tsar astound me. You seem to have developed into an agitator. And you have acquired such a determined look. It’s positively dangerous to catch your eye.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Don’t tease your brother. He is a very sensible person. A lot of children learn from him, so what he says about the situation matters. On top of which he has taught us to read and write.

  IVAN: I hope you also learned something when you were teaching them to read.

  THE TEACHER: No – I learned nothing at all. These little people have only a minimal understanding of Marxism. I don’t mean to offend you, Mrs Vlassova. Naturally it’s a very complex business, and it takes an educated mind to understand it. The strange thing is that the people who’ll never be able to do so fall on it like hot cakes. In itself Marxism is not at all bad. It has its points, though of course there are some great gaps in it, and at some crucial junctures Marx’s view of things is totally wrong. There’s a lot I could say about this. Of course the economic aspect matters, but there’s more to it than economics. Sociology? Yes, but I think biology will contribute just as much. My question is: does this doctrine have a place for the human condition? Humanity will never change.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA to Ivan: But here’s somebody who has changed quite a bit, don’t you think?

  Ivan takes his leave.

  IVAN: Mrs Vlassova, I can no longer recognise my brother.

  7

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA TAKES ADVANTAGE OF A VISIT TO HER SON IN PRISON TO GET THE NAMES OF THE MOVEMENT’S SUPPORTERS AMONG THE PEASANTS

  Prison.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: The warder will be watching very closely, but I’ve still got to find out the names of the peasants who asked about our paper. I hope I’ll be able to remember all those names.

  The Warder brings in Pavel.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Pavel!

  PAVEL: How are you, Mother?

  WARDER: You must sit at a distance from one another. There, and there. Talk about politics is forbidden.

  PAVEL: Best talk about home, Mother.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Yes, Pavel.

  PAVEL: You found somewhere to stay?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: At schoolmaster Vessovchikov’s.

  PAVEL: Are they looking after you properly?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Yes. But how about you?

  PAVEL: I wasn’t sure if they could take care of you.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: You’ve grown quite a beard.

  PAVEL: Yes, I look older, don’t I?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: And then I went to Smilgin’s burial. The police started hitting at people again and arrested some of them. All of us were there.

  WARDER: That’s political, Mrs Vlassova.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Really? Is it? How’s one to know what to talk about?

  WARDER: In that case your visits are unnecessary. You’ve nothing to talk about, but you come round and bother us. And it’s me gets blamed.

  PAVEL: Are you helping with the housework?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: That too. Vessovchikov and me are taking a trip to the country next week.

  PAVEL: The teacher?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: No, Ivan.

  PAVEL: A bit of fresh air?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: That too. Softly: We need those addresses.

  Aloud: Oh, Pavel, we all miss you so.

  PAVEL softly: I swallowed the addresses when they arrested me; I can only remember a few.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Oh, Pavel, how could I have imagined spending my old age like this?

  PAVEL softly: Lushin in Pirogovo.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA softly: How about Krapivna? Aloud: What a worry you are to me!

  PAVEL softly: Sulinovski.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: I’ve been praying for you, too. Softly: Sulinovski in Krapivna. Aloud: I spend the evenings all on my own, sitting by the lamp.

  PAVEL softly: Terek at Tobraya.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: And schoolmaster Vessovchikov has started complaining about the mess I make.

  PAVEL softly: And they’ll be able to give you the other addresses.

  WARDER: Visiting time is over.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Just another minute, you kind man. I’m so confused. Oh, Pavel, what’s left for us old people but to crawl into a hole so we don’t have to be seen? We’re no use to anybody any more. Softly: Lushin in Pirogovo. Aloud: They make us realise our time is over. There’s nothing ahead of us now. What we know is all finished – Softly: Sulinovski at Tobraya. Pavel shakes his head. Sulinovski in Krapivna – Aloud: and our experience counts for nothing. Our advice is harmful, because there’s an unbridgeable ravine cuts us off from our sons. Softly: Terek at Tobraya. Aloud: We go our way and you go your way. Softly: Terek at Tobraya. Aloud: We’ve got nothing in common. The time to come will be yours!

  WARDER: But visiting time is over.

  PAVEL bowing: Goodbye, Mother.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA bowing likewise: Goodbye, Pavel.

  SONG

  to be sung by the actor playing Pavel:

  They’ve got all their statute books and their precedents

  They’ve got all those police stations and prison blocks

  (Not to mention other institutes and homes).

  They’ve got all those prison warders and judges

  Who earn fat pay packets and don’t have any scruples.

  What’s the object?

  Do they imagine they can get us down like that?

  Before they vanish – which we are expecting –

  They’ll have come to realise

  That the whole thing’s bound to be in vain.

  They’ve got their newspapers and their printing presses

  To blacken our name and reduce us to silence

  (Not to speak of the statesmen they employ).

  They’ve got those clerics and academics

  Who earn fat pay packets and don’t have any scruples.

  What’s the object?

  Are they so scared of the truth coming out?

  Before they vanish – which we are expecting –

  They’ll have come to realise

  That the whole thing’s bound to be in vain.

  They’ve got their tanks and artillery

  They’ve got their machine guns and hand-grenades

  (Not to speak of those rubber clubs they wield).

  They’ve got their policemen and soldiers

  Who earn thin pay packets and don’t have any scruples.

  What’s the object?

  Are their opponents as strong as all that?

  They’re so sure the Lord won’t reject them

  Or let them go down the drain.

  But the refuse cart will collect them

  And all their hesitations will have been in vain.

  Neither money nor tanks will protect them

  A few last screams and nothing more will remain.

  8

  FROM 1909 TO 1913 THE WORKERS KEPT TRYING TO WIN THE POOR PEASANTS AND AGRICULTURAL WORKERS OVER TO THE MOVEMENT

  a

  Country road.

  As Pelagea Vlassova approaches with two workers she is met by a shower of stones. Her companions take to their heels.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA whose head bears a great bruise, to her attackers: Why are you throwing stones at us?

  YEGOR LUSHIN: Because you’re s
trike-breakers.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Strike-breakers, are they? No wonder they’re in such a hurry. Where’s the strike in these parts?

  YEGOR: On the Smirnov estate.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: And you are the strikers? My head says you are. But I’m no strike-breaker. I’ve come from Tver to see one of the workers on your estate. He’s called Yegor Lushin.

  YEGOR: Lushin, that’s me.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Pelagea Vlassova.

  YEGOR: Are you the one they call the Mother around Tver way?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: That’s right. I’ve brought copies of our paper for your lot. I didn’t know you were out on strike, but it looks to me – pointing at her bruise – as if things are getting tough.

  YEGOR: I’m sorry we threw that bruise at you. Our strike is going badly. We’ve got no strike fund and nothing to eat, and most of us want to disperse this evening and make separate efforts to get work on other local estates. A whole lot of strike-breakers are due to arrive first thing tomorrow. They’ve started slaughtering pigs and calves to feed them.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Who does the slaughtering?

  YEGOR: Our estate butcher. The estate butcher’s, the estate bakery and the estate dairy of course are not striking.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Why not?

  YEGOR: Why should they? It’s only us farm workers are getting our pay cut.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: And haven’t that lot had a cut ever?

  YEGOR: Course they have, only not just now.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Haven’t you people talked to them?

  YEGOR: Wouldn’t be any use. What have they to do with us? You can see how the chimney’s belching smoke for the strike-breakers. They are workers and we are peasants. And peasants are peasants and workers are workers. Our estate butcher is a worker too. He used to be in a factory canteen.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: So he won’t join the strike? And you get no supper?

  YEGOR: Let’s have those papers; that’s nothing to be surprised about.

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: Here they are. She divides the bundle of papers in two, and gives one of them to him.

  YEGOR: What about those? Why aren’t you giving us the whole lot?

  PELAGEA VLASSOVA: The other half must go to the kitchen.

  YEGOR: For the butcher, d’you mean? He knows what he’s doing all right. You can’t tell him anything he doesn’t know. But he does it because otherwise he himself would get nothing to eat. That sort already knows whatever you can tell him.

 

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