Six Characters in Search of an Author (Sei personaggi in cerca d’autore) is an Italian three-act play written by Luigi Pirandello in 1921, considered as one of the earliest examples of absurdist theatre. It’s a play within a play that deals with perceptions of reality and illusion, and plays with the ideas of identity and relative truths.
The plot features an acting company who have gathered to rehearse another play by Pirandello, when they’re interrupted by 6 “characters” who arrive in search of their author. They immediately clash with the manager who at first assumes they’re mad. But, as the play progresses, the manager slowly shifts his reality as the characters become more real than the actors.
Six Characters in Search of an Author opened in Rome at Valle di Roma and created a huge and clamorous division in the audience, forcing Pirandello to escape out the side door. But a year later it was presented in Milan to great success, before moving on to Broadway in 1922 where it ran for 136 performances.
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now: you’ll see.
The Manager
Well then: when she says “Don’t think any more of what I’ve said. I must forget, etc.,” you Addressing The Father. come in sharp with “I understand, I understand”; and then you ask her. …
The Step-Daughter
Interrupting. What?
The Manager
Why she is in mourning.
The Step-Daughter
Not at all! See here: when I told him that it was useless for me to be thinking about my wearing mourning, do you know how he answered me? “Ah well,” he said “then let’s take off this little frock.”
The Manager
Great! Just what we want, to make a riot in the theatre!
The Step-Daughter
But it’s the truth!
The Manager
What does that matter? Acting is our business here. Truth up to a certain point, but no further.
The Step-Daughter
What do you want to do then?
The Manager
You’ll see, you’ll see! Leave it to me.
The Step-Daughter
No sir! What you want to do is to piece together a little romantic sentimental scene out of my disgust, out of all the reasons, each more cruel and viler than the other, why I am what I am. He is to ask me why I’m in mourning; and I’m to answer with tears in my eyes, that it is just two months since papa died. No sir, no! He’s got to say to me; as he did say: “Well, let’s take off this little dress at once.” And I; with my two months’ mourning in my heart, went there behind that screen, and with these fingers tingling with shame. …
The Manager
Running his hands through his hair. For Heaven’s sake! What are you saying?
The Step-Daughter
Crying out excitedly. The truth! The truth!
The Manager
It may be. I don’t deny it, and I can understand all your horror; but you must surely see that you can’t have this kind of thing on the stage. It won’t go.
The Step-Daughter
Not possible, eh? Very well! I’m much obliged to you—but I’m off!
The Manager
Now be reasonable! Don’t lose your temper!
The Step-Daughter
I won’t stop here! I won’t! I can see you’ve fixed it all up with him in your office. All this talk about what is possible for the stage … I understand! He wants to get at his complicated “cerebral drama,” to have his famous remorses and torments acted; but I want to act my part, my part!
The Manager
Annoyed, shaking his shoulders. Ah! Just your part! But, if you will pardon me, there are other parts than yours: His Indicating The Father. and hers! Indicating The Mother. On the stage you can’t have a character becoming too prominent and overshadowing all the others. The thing is to pack them all into a neat little framework and then act what is actable. I am aware of the fact that everyone has his own interior life which he wants very much to put forward. But the difficulty lies in this fact: to set out just so much as is necessary for the stage, taking the other characters into consideration, and at the same time hint at the unrevealed interior life of each. I am willing to admit, my dear young lady, that from your point of view it would be a fine idea if each character could tell the public all his troubles in a nice monologue or a regular one hour lecture. Good humoredly. You must restrain yourself, my dear, and in your own interest, too; because this fury of yours, this exaggerated disgust you show, may make a bad impression, you know. After you have confessed to me that there were others before him at Madame Pace’s and more than once. …
The Step-Daughter
Bowing her head, impressed. It’s true. But remember those others mean him for me all the same.
The Manager
Not understanding. What? The others? What do you mean?
The Step-Daughter
For one who has gone wrong, sir, he who was responsible for the first fault is responsible for all that follow. He is responsible for my faults, was, even before I was born. Look at him, and see if it isn’t true!
The Manager
Well, well! And does the weight of so much responsibility seem nothing to you? Give him a chance to act it, to get it over!
The Step-Daughter
How? How can he act all his “noble remorses” all his “moral torments,” if you want to spare him the horror of being discovered one day—after he had asked her what he did ask her—in the arms of her, that already fallen woman, that child, sir, that child he used to watch come out of school? She is moved.The Mother at this point is overcome with emotion, and breaks out into a fit of crying. All are touched. A long pause.
The Step-Daughter
As soon as The Mother becomes a little quieter, adds resolutely and gravely. At present, we are unknown to the public. Tomorrow, you will act us as you wish, treating us in your own manner. But do you really want to see drama, do you want to see it flash out as it really did?
The Manager
Of course! That’s just what I do want, so I can use as much of it as is possible.
The Step-Daughter
Well then, ask that Mother there to leave us.
The Mother
Changing her low plaint into a sharp cry. No! No! Don’t permit it, sir, don’t permit it!
The Manager
But it’s only to try it.
The Mother
I can’t bear it. I can’t.
The Manager
But since it has happened already … I don’t understand!
The Mother
It’s taking place now. It happens all the time. My torment isn’t a pretended one. I live and feel every minute of my torture. Those two children there—have you heard them speak? They can’t speak any more. They cling to me to keep my torment actual and vivid for me. But for themselves, they do not exist, they aren’t any more. And she Indicating The Step-Daughter. has run away,
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