Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes: Revised and Complete Edition by Tony Kushner
Authors: Tony Kushner
Ads: Link
Soon, this . . . ruination will be blanketed white. You can smell it—can you smell it?
LOUIS : Smell what?
BELIZE : Softness, compliance, forgiveness, grace.
LOUIS : No . . .
BELIZE : I can’t help you learn that. I can’t help you, Louis. You’re not my business. (He exits)
(Louis puts his head in his hands, inadvertently touching his cut forehead.)
LOUIS : Ow FUCK! (He stands slowly, looks toward where Belize exited) Smell what?
(He looks both ways to be sure no one is watching, then inhales deeply, and is surprised) Huh. Snow.
Scene 3
Harper in a very white, cold place, with a brilliant blue sky above; a delicate snowfall. She is dressed in a beautiful snowsuit. The sound of the sea, faint .
HARPER : Snow! Ice! Mountains of ice! Where am I? I . . . I feel better, I do, I . . . feel better. There are ice crystals in my lungs, wonderful and sharp. And the snow smells like cold, crushed peaches. And there’s something . . .some current of blood in the wind, how strange, it has that iron taste.
(Mr. Lies appears, also in splendid snowgear; his is emblazoned on the back with the IOTA logo.)
MR. LIES : Ozone.
HARPER : Ozone! Wow! Where am I?
MR. LIES : The Kingdom of Ice, the bottommost part of the world.
HARPER (Looking around, then realizing) : Antarctica. This is Antarctica!
MR. LIES : Cold shelter for the shattered. No sorrow here, tears freeze.
HARPER : Antarctica, Antarctica, oh boy oh boy, LOOK at this, I—Wow, I must’ve really snapped the tether, huh?
MR. LIES : Apparently . . .
HARPER : That’s great. I want to stay here forever. Set up camp. Build things. Build a city, an enormous city made up of frontier forts, dark wood and green roofs and high gates made of pointed logs and bonfires burning on every street corner. I should build by a river. Where are the forests?
MR. LIES : No timber here. Too cold. Ice, no trees.
HARPER : Oh details! I’m sick of details! I’ll plant them and grow them. I’ll live off caribou fat, I’ll melt it over the bonfires and drink it from long, curved goat-horn cups. It’ll be great. I want to make a new world here. So that I never have to go home again.
MR. LIES : As long as it lasts. Ice has a way of melting.
HARPER : No. Forever. I can have anything I want here—maybe even companionship, someone who has . . . desire for me.
You, maybe.
MR. LIES : It’s against the by-laws of the International Order of Travel Agents to get involved with clients. Rules are rules. Anyway, I’m not the one you really want.
HARPER : There isn’t anyone . . . Maybe an Eskimo. Who could ice-fish for food. And help me build a nest for when the baby comes.
MR. LIES : There are no Eskimo in Antarctica. And you’re not really pregnant. You made that up.
HARPER : Well all of this is made up. So if the snow feels cold I’m pregnant. Right? Here, I can be pregnant. And I can have any kind of a baby I want.
MR. LIES : This is a retreat, a vacuum, its virtue is that it lacks everything; deep-freeze for feelings. You can be numb and safe here, that’s what you came for. Respect the delicate ecology of your delusions.
HARPER : You mean like no Eskimo in Antarctica.
MR. LIES : Correcto. Ice and snow, no Eskimo. Even hallucinations have laws.
HARPER : Well then who’s that?
(The Eskimo appears.)
MR. LIES : An Eskimo.
HARPER : An Antarctic Eskimo. A fisher of the polar deep.
MR. LIES : There’s something wrong with this picture.
(The Eskimo beckons.)
HARPER : I’m going to like this place. It’s my own National Geographic Special! Oh! Oh! (She holds her stomach) I think . . . I think I felt her kicking. Maybe I’ll give birth to a baby covered with thick white fur, and that way she won’t be cold. My breasts will be full of hot cocoa so shedoesn’t get chilly. And if it gets really cold, she’ll have a pouch I can crawl into. Like a marsupial. We’ll mend together. That’s what we’ll do; we’ll mend.
Scene 4
Same day as Scene 2 .
LOUIS : Smell what?
BELIZE : Softness, compliance, forgiveness, grace.
LOUIS : No . . .
BELIZE : I can’t help you learn that. I can’t help you, Louis. You’re not my business. (He exits)
(Louis puts his head in his hands, inadvertently touching his cut forehead.)
LOUIS : Ow FUCK! (He stands slowly, looks toward where Belize exited) Smell what?
(He looks both ways to be sure no one is watching, then inhales deeply, and is surprised) Huh. Snow.
Scene 3
Harper in a very white, cold place, with a brilliant blue sky above; a delicate snowfall. She is dressed in a beautiful snowsuit. The sound of the sea, faint .
HARPER : Snow! Ice! Mountains of ice! Where am I? I . . . I feel better, I do, I . . . feel better. There are ice crystals in my lungs, wonderful and sharp. And the snow smells like cold, crushed peaches. And there’s something . . .some current of blood in the wind, how strange, it has that iron taste.
(Mr. Lies appears, also in splendid snowgear; his is emblazoned on the back with the IOTA logo.)
MR. LIES : Ozone.
HARPER : Ozone! Wow! Where am I?
MR. LIES : The Kingdom of Ice, the bottommost part of the world.
HARPER (Looking around, then realizing) : Antarctica. This is Antarctica!
MR. LIES : Cold shelter for the shattered. No sorrow here, tears freeze.
HARPER : Antarctica, Antarctica, oh boy oh boy, LOOK at this, I—Wow, I must’ve really snapped the tether, huh?
MR. LIES : Apparently . . .
HARPER : That’s great. I want to stay here forever. Set up camp. Build things. Build a city, an enormous city made up of frontier forts, dark wood and green roofs and high gates made of pointed logs and bonfires burning on every street corner. I should build by a river. Where are the forests?
MR. LIES : No timber here. Too cold. Ice, no trees.
HARPER : Oh details! I’m sick of details! I’ll plant them and grow them. I’ll live off caribou fat, I’ll melt it over the bonfires and drink it from long, curved goat-horn cups. It’ll be great. I want to make a new world here. So that I never have to go home again.
MR. LIES : As long as it lasts. Ice has a way of melting.
HARPER : No. Forever. I can have anything I want here—maybe even companionship, someone who has . . . desire for me.
You, maybe.
MR. LIES : It’s against the by-laws of the International Order of Travel Agents to get involved with clients. Rules are rules. Anyway, I’m not the one you really want.
HARPER : There isn’t anyone . . . Maybe an Eskimo. Who could ice-fish for food. And help me build a nest for when the baby comes.
MR. LIES : There are no Eskimo in Antarctica. And you’re not really pregnant. You made that up.
HARPER : Well all of this is made up. So if the snow feels cold I’m pregnant. Right? Here, I can be pregnant. And I can have any kind of a baby I want.
MR. LIES : This is a retreat, a vacuum, its virtue is that it lacks everything; deep-freeze for feelings. You can be numb and safe here, that’s what you came for. Respect the delicate ecology of your delusions.
HARPER : You mean like no Eskimo in Antarctica.
MR. LIES : Correcto. Ice and snow, no Eskimo. Even hallucinations have laws.
HARPER : Well then who’s that?
(The Eskimo appears.)
MR. LIES : An Eskimo.
HARPER : An Antarctic Eskimo. A fisher of the polar deep.
MR. LIES : There’s something wrong with this picture.
(The Eskimo beckons.)
HARPER : I’m going to like this place. It’s my own National Geographic Special! Oh! Oh! (She holds her stomach) I think . . . I think I felt her kicking. Maybe I’ll give birth to a baby covered with thick white fur, and that way she won’t be cold. My breasts will be full of hot cocoa so shedoesn’t get chilly. And if it gets really cold, she’ll have a pouch I can crawl into. Like a marsupial. We’ll mend together. That’s what we’ll do; we’ll mend.
Scene 4
Same day as Scene 2 .
Similar Books
