They say that... . VALERIE OR THE CORNERS OF A SPHERE. ONE-ACT PLAY
Author: THE CHARACTER
The following people speak: THE CHARACTER, Myself
Probable cast of actors THE CHARACTER, M. José de los Santos Auñón
FIRST AND ONLY ACT
(THE CHARACTER is on her own. Skylight. Earth and dust on the floor, which imitates a draughtboard. Bare stage. Limited wardrobe.)
THE CHARACTER_ Cortázar. It was Cortázar who recovered the quotation: “I could dance that chair – said Isadora”. Maybe if I tattoo Isadora’s intention on my forearm in ink I could do it.
(The light focuses on THE CHARACTER, who is contracting, making real efforts to write –false pen- on the inner part of her forearm.)
THE CHARACTER_ Such a narrow forearm! Valerie would know how to expand it. She knows how to expand the limits of the body. It’s just a matter of wasting the frontiers of the mind.
(THE CHARACTER falls quiet. She tries to write on her skin again).
THE CHARACTER_ “chair” – said Bravo! Is it possible that the ink has run out? It’s possible. Only I could think of hanging a premature ejaculation pilo permanent 0.5 fine point from my Adam’s apple. Your cat’s eyes sharpen, I hear them, Beautiful Val. You smile? Good for you. Don’t worry, I won’t scatter. No, really, stop smiling, I won’t do it. Enough. You see? I can read it. A simple metaphor: “I could relate Valérie Tasso” and everything is arranged so that, gently, the text that is to open your web page emerges.
(THE CHARACTER sits down on the floor, weakened. She starts typing –false computer- . The light on HER becomes gradually weaker until it explodes when the monologue is taken up again)
THE CHARACTER_(Pretends to be reading) “I could think that apple” – said Eve to the naïve Adam while the ophidian, convinced of its seductiveness, slithered, warm, along her naked belly until reaching her sex. Valérie? Sorry, I’m interrupting you again: don’t you think zoophilia in cosmogonies could be the thesis subject for a doctorate in sexology? Eve and the serpent, Leda and the swan, Mirra and the wild boar… Can you image how much could be got out of Noah and his Ark? All right, all right, I’ll go back to the text. I relate you. “I could relate Valérie Tasso”.
(Again, THE CHARACTER pretends to be typing. Suddenly, with a histrionic gesture, she brings a finger to her mouth and blows until she runs out of air.)
THE CHARACTER_(Defeated). No. No. No. Diary of a non-phobic. Do you want me to write this, Beautiful Val? I could. I could write it in one gulp but I am unable to relate you. I should have told you. I’m terrified of saying “no”. I slither in search of peace along the corners of a sphere. Only by doing this could I get to know you. If one day I had the intention of relating you; one by one, I would let my senses be shot. Vast, Beautiful Val. Like a cubist canvas, a fragmented reality. Who could relate a cubist canvas? Shall I take this privilege upon myself? Why? Un-covering Isis, your face, un-covering Isis. Never identical to yourself. Corpus Hermeticum. My hand, you say? This one? No, I can’t. You insist that I stop scattering and only the wind, Valérie, only the wind could relate you.
(THE CHARACTER is left in the dark. But not the draughtboard)