Children of the Sun

  MAXIM GORKY

  Children of the Sun

  in a new version by

  ANDREW UPTON

  Contents

  Title Page

  Introduction

  First Performance

  Characters

  Act One

  Act Two

  Act Three

  Act Four

  About Maxim Gorky

  About Andrew Upton

  By Andrew Upton from Faber

  Copyright

  Grappling with Gorky

  What is it about the Russian writers, I wonder?

  Extremity, complexity, brutality, optimism. But not blind optimism, an optimism despite the obvious impossibility of salvation.

  There is such a flowering of great literature in the hundred years around the revolution. Such a need to tell the story, be it in novel, play or short form. This need to tell, to examine and investigate the dynamics of their society fills Russian writing with purpose and vitality. They are literally making it up as they go along.

  The spirit of theatre, it seems, makes it particularly amenable to this energy: improvising, knocking together, throwing it on – because the spirit of theatre is all about the present.

  Theatre, like life, happens now and is gone. Because of this essential immediacy, theatre at its best is a forum. It is a place to table observations, criticisms and ambitions for one’s society. To enact the good, the bad and the probable. Before they happen sometimes, or after they have happened more often than not. This theatrical heritage, theatre’s critical role in the formation and elaboration of society, is lucidly manifested in the work of Gorky before the revolution.

  Children of the Sun is a remarkable document, on so many levels. It captures the urge and the pressure for change before that urge has been colonised by ideology. Before it has been politicised and made accurate or dangerous (depending on your persuasion) by Marxism and historical materialism. This inchoate quality of the pre-revolutionary energy is harnessed by Gorky to drive the chaos and disorder of the plot. To illuminate the ignorance and bigotry of the characters. To reveal the crack in the world that will, in time, settle for the glue of ideology.

  Whenever an adaptation is undertaken, a specific production is begun. It is important to find the angle on the story that resonates with the day and age. The time and the place in which the show will be seen. It is not for an adaptation to seek to replace the original or improve on it, it is to bring it alive for now. There are a myriad ways to translate a line of dialogue and there are exponentially more ways to adapt a scene. Some writers are very scrupulous and particular about their structure and their rhythms. Others are fired by a need to tell the story and there is a massive outpouring of scenarios. Gorky is very much the latter type of writer, he just opens the nozzle on his ideas, his themes and his situations and lets it all come streaming out. In this way his theatre is raw and immediate and was very, very topical at the time. In this way there are bumps and dips that (in some instances) are best smoothed over.

  The choices we make for our production are going to be very different from the choices made next time Children of the Sun is programmed. In this way there is a sense that these can be new(ish) plays, perpetually reinvented and reinvigorated for a new audience and a new time. In this way their historical setting can become another, a new tool in their resonating arsenal.

  History is a mirror that can fill us with a sense of continuity, an insight into our patterns as a species and a reminder of where things went wrong and how much they have changed … or not.

  History places us in relation to the work. We know the Russian turmoil did eventually find a revolutionary direction, take shape, get commandeered. We know that the commandeering comrades kept a tight hold on their new power and we know that power is never easily relinquished. It is with our eye firmly on the present that this particular excursion to the past makes the most sense. With the benefit of hindsight we know the glue of ideology these folk will resort to (not necessarily voluntarily in all cases). We know the mess they will make trying to fix it up with all-encompassing historical solutions and ideological certainty.

  In this way the lumpy nature of Gorky’s narrative voice lends itself to new productions, enjoys a bit of anachronism and misrepresentation. The original still stands. There are many literary, historically devout translations to be found; Gorky’s work in fact remains untouched.

  The setting of the play is typically bourgeois – a group of over-indulged kidults, still living with their Nanny, circle around their destiny in seemingly futile conversational eddies until it comes and clobbers them.

  But these characters are remarkable creations: Protasov, the chemist whose prescience about the role of science in the future – especially his beloved chemistry – is spot on. His sister, Liza, whose anguish about the state of the world has set her right on edge, but once again her prescience and insight are bewilderingly accurate. And Yelena, his wife, who knows there is something wrong, who senses the need for action and who just may be the very embodiment of the revolutionary spirit. Their friends, acquaintances, would-be lovers and the burgeoning peasant class who are all desperate for some new world order, or just some personal identity aside from the cloying drudgery of history. All these folk, fully formed and lovingly detailed, crash and collide into each other.

  And none of them knows exactly how to hold the whole picture together, but all have at least one piece of the puzzle in their grasp. From this naive energy Gorky has wrought the great drama that the inchoate offers any writer of character. People are so much more interesting and volatile when they know they want something but don’t know what it is. This incredible volatility and desperate searching blows the typical setting apart and gives the play its most modern resonances.

  The horror is behind us, on the horizon.

  Andrew Upton

  March 2013

  Children of the Sun in this version was first performed in the Lyttelton auditorium of the National Theatre, London, on 9 April 2013. The cast, in order of speaking, was as follows:

  Protasov Geoffrey Streatfeild

  Nanny Maggie McCarthy

  Roman Gerard Monaco

  Liza Emma Lowndes

  Yegor Matthew Flynn

  Boris Paul Higgins

  Melaniya Lucy Black

  Feema Florence Hall

  Nazar Paul Hickey

  Misha Matthew Hickey

  Yelena Justine Mitchell

  Vageen Gerald Kyd

  Yakov Jonathan Harden

  Avdotya Rhiannon Oliver

  Loosha Gemma Lawrence

  Doctor Lucas Hare

  Villagers Steven Blake, Anna O’Grady, Stephen Wilson, Karren Winchester

  Director Howard Davies

  Designer Bunny Christie

  Lighting Designer Neil Austin

  Music Dominic Muldowney

  Sound Designer Paul Groothuis

  Characters

  in order of appearance

  Roman

  a labourer

  Protasov

  a scientist

  Nanny

  Protasov’s nanny

  Liza

  Protasov’s sister

  Yegor

  a blacksmith

  Boris

  the local vet

  Melaniya

  Boris’ sister

  Feema

  Protasov’s maid

  Nazar

  a pawnshop owner

  Misha

  his son

  Yelena

  Protasov’s wife

  Vageen

  an artist

  Yakov

  a stranger

  Avdotya

  Yegor’s wife

  Loosha


  a new maid

  Doctor

  CHILDREN OF THE SUN

  Act One

  The living room. Roman is singing like a cow, some dreary, peasant work dirge. On and on.

  Protasov appears from his laboratory.

  Protasov Can you / just – listen and –

  Nanny barrels on.

  Nanny He’s here. / He’s here.

  Roman What? Me?

  Protasov Shut up. Please. / Who? Nazar? Is Nazar here?

  Nanny What’s that smell? / What are you doing?

  Roman I was singing. While I / did my job.

  Protasov Who’s here, / Nanny? Shut up, you.

  Roman I’m working. Nazar asked / me, himself. Hey? I’m not your man.

  Nanny There’s no room for all this. What are you burning?

  Protasov Don’t touch that. Don’t touch that. Can you go, please? Can you / get that idiot to go away? Nanny? He’s wailing and bellowing, the place is a train station. What are you doing? Nanny don’t, not that.

  Nanny You can’t breathe in here. What’s all this? What …? What’s that? Train station – and that’s my fault? You can’t move or breathe in here. You’ll have the cholera on us. The cholera is coming. / And all you do is cook up smells? Don’t blame me for the barnyard.

  Roman Cholera, exactly. That’s what / he’s cooking up, then? Going around cooking up lethal diseases.

  Liza appears in the tension.

  Protasov Nanny, please not that. Who’s here? Is it Nazar? Shut up and go away. Would / you? Please.

  Liza What is all this? Pavel needs some peace.

  Roman I can’t work in this.

  Roman goes.

  Nanny Yegor’s here. He’s been beating his wife. The / man is a monster. You have to tell him.

  Protasov Don’t touch / that. Please. Don’t move …

  Liza Nanny. You’re interrupting my brother’s / work.

  Nanny I don’t want that man hanging round here. Be quiet. Bursts in. You shouldn’t have dealings with him. He’ll kill her, Pavel. He will kill her with beating her and you, you as … the only person in town who employs him. You should tell him to stop. You should tell him. / It’s your duty.

  Protasov I will. All right, I will. / If you’d just …

  Nanny Threaten him. Tell him. If he / doesn’t mend his ways …

  Protasov All right, I will, yes. Yes. I’ll put the fear of unemployment into him. All right. Go. Are / you all right? I was wondering where you …

  Liza / OK …

  Nanny You must be strict. You must set the example not talk to everybody as if they are your equals, it gives / people the wrong idea.

  Protasov Yes, Nanny. Yes. I need to see Nazar. He’s got some things I need.

  Nanny Nazar? He’s / worse than …

  Protasov Oh, God. Where’s Yelena?

  Liza Yelena?

  Nanny She’s out. Been out with the artist since breakfast. Breakfast? Breakfast is the meal you share with your husband.

  Protasov Oh don’t / start, Nanny.

  Liza I think we’re interfering with Pavel’s / work, Nanny.

  Nanny There’s your milk. Drink it and be quiet.

  Liza Yes. / Nanny, I …

  Nanny Can you blame her, though? Poor Yelena Nikolayevna – looking for a bit of affection? I would – she gets precious little from him. When he was a baby he’d drop his bowl on the floor. Had his fill and on he’d go. But Pavloosha? Really, can’t you see? You’re a grown man, now. And she’s a woman. / Not a bowl of porridge.

  Protasov For God’s sake. I’m busy. Go away. Go. Go away and / leave me. GO.

  Nanny Truth hurts. It’s what he’s like with everybody. Dumps them / when he’s had his fill.

  Protasov Really, Nanny, please. Please leave.

  Nanny I’m going. Don’t forget Yegor, though. And your milk is on the table. The drops are / there beside it.

  Protasov GO. / GO. GO.

  Liza Yes. Yes.

  Nanny I’m going.

  She exits.

  Protasov That woman. Anyone’d think we were still children. What do these ones taste like?

  Liza Horrible.

  He tries them; bitter.

  Nanny’s right, you know.

  Protasov Old people are never right. Truth, plain truth is in the eyes of the innocent. Liza, I have / here a simple yeast.

  Liza She’s right what she says about Yelena.

  Protasov God help me. Women. Women seem to love speaking for each other. If Yelena has a problem, Liza – then Yelena and I will talk it through. I don’t want some committee –

  Yegor enters.

  … Yegor.

  Yegor Yes.

  Protasov Now listen.

  Thing is, I need a kind of lining for my storage tank. The one down behind the cesspit.

  Yegor I built it with Roman.

  Protasov Did you? Good. Well it needs a one-inch copper lining. It’s for containing all the run-off from my experiments.

  Yegor Copper lining?

  Protasov Yes, the copper is a precaution against the chemicals. Nazar has all the copper, it arrived yesterday. I’ve done a drawing. In here. Sorry, it’s a bit smelly.

  They go. Boris enters.

  Boris Madame.

  Liza Monsieur.

  Boris (sniffing the air) … The pursuit of knowledge continues apace?

  Liza Aren’t you working today?

  Boris I was just at the orphanage. The director? He has a wife and she has a dog who has a tail that was crushed in the door by a maid. Three roubles to get from cacophonic catastrophe to canine composure. I was going to buy you a box of chocolates with the proceeds, but it seemed somehow wrong to buy treats / with dog-money.

  Liza Please, sit down.

  Boris That smell? Archimedes! Your experiment is boiling!

  Protasov hurries in, with Yegor following.

  Protasov Boiling? No. Why didn’t someone tell me?

  Boris I did.

  Liza How were / we to know?

  Protasov It mustn’t boil. Can’t you see? It’s spoiled. / I’ll have to start again.

  Boris It wasn’t our fault.

  Yegor I’ll need a rouble to get started.

  Protasov A rouble? Liza? / Boris.

  Liza Me? No. Has Nanny got it?

  Protasov Someone needs to keep an eye on the money.

  Boris I’ve got three. Here. / Dog-money.

  Protasov Can I? There we are, Yegor, three.

  Yegor You can pay / me the rest later.

  Protasov / Bill me.

  Boris Anything for science.

  Yegor is about to leave.

  Liza Pavel? Have you? What Nanny …? Pavel?

  Protasov Nanny? What? Yes. Yes.

  Yegor? Yes, I will. Listen.

  Liza?

  Well. No. OK? So. Look – it’s none of my business actually, but Nanny was going on. Well, apparently you – ahm. What I heard. Nanny said. Nanny wanted me to say. Um.

  Do you beat your wife?

  Yegor Yes.

  Protasov Well, that’s … stupid.

  Yegor I beg your pardon?

  Protasov That’s stupid, Yegor – stupid like an animal, a dumb / animal.

  Yegor What’s stupid, sir, is that I married the devil’s own sister.

  Protasov Yegor. Listen. The thing is, the devil doesn’t. Superstition / just makes …

  Yegor What? The devil doesn’t what?

  Boris Have a sister?

  Protasov Well, he certainly doesn’t have a sister. And if he did, you wouldn’t beat her anyway. Because beating? That’s my point. Beating / is stupid. Beating won’t …

  Yegor Beating? There’s nothing wrong with beating. I get beaten. I will beat her. See? I will beat her flat into the ground.

  Protasov Listen, Yegor. You lead / your life …

  Yegor And you’re right. It isn’t any of your business.

  He is gone.

  Protasov I think the biggest single obstacle w
e face as a species is ignorance.

  Boris God help us.

  Protasov And superstition. I mean really, I can’t unpick the devil from that man’s life till he can think for himself. Bloody Nanny.