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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turning to the Actors. Be punctual, please! The Manager and the Six Characters cross the stage and go off. The other Actors remain, looking at one another in astonishment.
Leading Man
Is he serious? What the devil does he want to do?
Juvenile Lead
This is rank madness.
Third Actor
Does he expect to knock up a drama in five minutes?
Juvenile Lead
Like the improvisers!
Leading Lady
If he thinks I’m going to take part in a joke like this. …
Juvenile Lead
I’m out of it anyway.
Fourth Actor
I should like to know who they are. Alludes to Characters.
Third Actor
What do you suppose? Madmen or rascals!
Juvenile Lead
And he takes them seriously!
L’Ingénue
Vanity! He fancies himself as an author now.
Leading Man
It’s absolutely unheard of. If the stage has come to this … well I’m. …
Fifth Actor
It’s rather a joke.
Third Actor
Well, we’ll see what’s going to happen next.
Thus talking, the Actors leave the stage; some going out by the little door at the back; others retiring to their dressing-rooms.
The curtain remains up.
The action of the play is suspended for twenty minutes.
Act II
The stage call-bells ring to warn the company that the play is about to begin again.
The Step-Daughter comes out of The Manager’s office along with The Child and The Boy. As she comes out of the office, she cries:
The Step-Daughter
Nonsense! nonsense! Do it yourselves! I’m not going to mix myself up in this mess. Turning to The Child and coming quickly with her on to the stage. Come on, Rosetta, let’s run!
The Boy follows them slowly, remaining a little behind and seeming perplexed.
The Step-Daughter
Stops, bends over The Child and takes the latter’s face between her hands. My little darling! You’re frightened, aren’t you? You don’t know where we are, do you? Pretending to reply to a question of The Child. What is the stage? It’s a place, baby, you know, where people play at being serious, a place where they act comedies. We’ve got to act a comedy now, dead serious, you know; and you’re in it also, little one. Embraces her, pressing the little head to her breast, and rocking the child for a moment. Oh darling, darling, what a horrid comedy you’ve got to play! What a wretched part they’ve found for you! A garden … a fountain … look … just suppose, kiddie, it’s here. Where, you say? Why, right here in the middle. It’s all pretence you know. That’s the trouble, my pet: it’s all make-believe here. It’s better to imagine it though, because if they fix it up for you, it’ll only be painted cardboard, painted cardboard for the rockery, the water, the plants. … Ah, but I think a baby like this one would sooner have a make-believe fountain than a real one, so she could play with it. What a joke it’ll be for the others! But for you, alas! not quite such a joke: you who are real, baby dear, and really play by a real fountain this big and green and beautiful, with ever so many bamboos around it that are reflected in the water, and a whole lot of little ducks swimming about. … No, Rosetta, no, your mother doesn’t bother about you on account of that wretch of a son there. I’m in the devil of a temper, and as for that lad. … Seizes The Boy by the arm to force him to take one of his hands out of his pockets. What have you got there? What are you hiding? Pulls his hand out of his pocket, looks into it and catches the glint of a revolver. Ah! where did you get this?
The Boy, very pale in the face, looks at her, but does not answer.
Idiot! If I’d been in your place, instead of killing myself, I’d have shot one of those two, or both of them: father and son.
The Father enters from the office, all excited from his work. The Manager follows him.
The Father
Come on, come on dear! Come here for a minute! We’ve arranged everything. It’s all fixed up.
The Manager
Also excited. If you please, young lady, there are one or two points to settle still. Will you come along?
The Step-Daughter
Following him towards the office. Ouff! what’s the good, if you’ve arranged everything.
The Father, The Manager and The Step-Daughter go back into the office again (off) for a moment. At the same time, The Son followed by The Mother, comes out.
The Son
Looking at the three entering office. Oh this is fine, fine! And to think I can’t even get away!
The Mother attempts to look at him, but lowers her eyes immediately when he turns away from her. She then sits down. The Boy and The Child approach her. She casts a glance again at The Son, and speaks with humble tones, trying to draw him into conversation.
The Mother
And isn’t my punishment the worst of all? Then seeing from The Son’s manner that he will not bother himself about her. My God! Why are you so cruel? Isn’t it enough for one person to support all this torment? Must you then insist on others seeing it also?
The Son
Half to himself, meaning The Mother to hear, however. And they want to put it on the stage! If there was at least a reason for it! He thinks he has got at the meaning of it all. Just as if each one of us in every circumstance of life couldn’t find his own explanation of it! Pauses. He complains he was discovered in a place where he ought not to have been seen, in a moment of his life which ought to have remained hidden and kept out
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