MA - DRAMA PAPER-- HOME ON THE RANGE BY AMIRI BARAKA

Home on the Range (1968)

·        Title : based on an old song  that was also accepted the national song of the state of Kansas ( USA)

Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam,

Where the deer and the antelope play,

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

And the skies are not cloudy all day.

( then there is chorus)

·        Theme/Purpose /Contents : Black protest against racial discrimination  by the Whites

·        Thought/message : that blacks are more natural, more creative than whites, who are imitative and who basically want to be like blacks.  “Blacks are naturally superior; the whites will submit,”

·        Form/ Genre:   As a Black Drama / Ritual drama / Afro-American Drama/ Revolutionary Black Theatre

·        Style & Technique  : populist , African ritualistic,  modernist ( experimentation with form, language , structure, etc.)

Amiri Baraka’s  one act play The Home on the Range was written in 1968. In America  there was an explosion of racial anxiety and violence in the 1960s  and then emerged Black artistic, religious, and political movements within and beyond America. It was a period when the Black dramatists were expressing their rage against the Whites . Baraka’s plays like The Home… may be considered as the peaks of such expressions.

Baraka was a literary artist as well as an activist , a revolutionary. The 1930s’ depression, the World War II, and the 1960s’ assassinations of Malcolm X, Martin Luther King and John F. Kennedy provoked his disenchantment with the world and with America’s politics and  racial policies. By the mid-60s Baraka increasingly became involved with Pan-Africanism, protest rallies, and the African-American Civil Rights movement. He was particularly swayed by Malcolm X’s philosophy of “by any means necessary,” and by his contention that racial confrontation was inevitable.

As a member of  “Beat Generation “ , he also advocated Bohemianism, an antibourgeois  approach that attacked bourgeois life and aesthetic styles. According to him , the  bourgeois literature  catered to the interests and aspirations of the elite and failed to pose a threat to White America. So he wrote in the vein of “populist “ literature  that  played a functional role in targeting common people, particularly Blacks, and addressing critical issues that affected their lives. The message or thought behind his revolutionary dramatic works was “the Blacks are naturally superior; the Whites will submit,” He believed that blacks are more natural, more creative than whites, who are imitative and who basically want to be like blacks.

Baraka was also the founder of “Black Revolutionary Theatre”  and “ Black Arts Repertory Theatre “(1965).The revolutionary drama of the 1960s was essentially anti-liberal, anti-academic  and anti-European. The Theatre put White America on trial in a manner that brought about its symbolic, but hostile confrontation with the Black world. .As a chief exponent of the Revolutionary Theatre, Baraka played a leading role in defining a more practical task for Black drama, one that advanced themes of Black survival while teaching the people the relevance of struggle.

Baraka’s  Revolutionary Theatre was a part of Black Art Movement which centered on experimentation with African socio-dramatic and religious traditions. As in African ritual systems, the Revolutionary Theatre did not distinguish the sacred from the secular, ritual from theatre, or theatre from life. It encompassed the total experience and aspirations of the Black community.

 These plays  were  generally structured on recurring archetypal, thematic, and stylistic traits  . Characters were typically allegorical, with White adversaries materializing as beasts or devils that had to be judged and destroyed along with their accomplices – middle-class Blacks who failed to reform. As a rule, the dramatic contest presented Black as good and White as evil, where, in the end, good triumphed over evil. It was a courtroom theatre where Whites were summoned and then summarily condemned and punished.

In essence, violence was a principal ritual instrument in Baraka’s revolutionary dramas. Beyond a strong and sadistic desire to kill Whites, his plays demonstrated the possibility of change through force and determination.

Some of Baraka’s plays initially deviate from a ritualistic pattern, but they end with ritual murders, thereby preserving the efficacy of ritual sacrifice. The Home is such a play that doesn’t follow the ritualistic pattern entirely , but still present the violence, murders  and rebirth as in the rituals. The characters are not individuals but ‘types’ though not allegorical.

There are two sets of characters- the white ( family ) and the black .The family is presented with its members as ‘types’ who have lost their vitality and  vigor of life . They are incapable of doing anything meaningful or original . The father or the son are not even able to stand erect independently.  Father, Mother , Son and Daughter  just sit and watch TV  while eating popcorn and  chattering. They are fully engrossed in the life  on the screen. They are  excited by the thrilling action on the screen. They laugh loudly as the characters on the screen laugh. When the Black criminal breaks into their house he can not understand their language  which are just absurd babblings as responses to what is happening on the screen.

The Black Criminal does not understand what they are speaking. Confused and disturbed he asks them ,

“What the hell's wrong with you folks? Goddamit, shutup, shutup.”

--------------

“What? Goddamit, why do you people talk like that? What kind of language is that? I'm no fool. I been places. What kind of language you speaking? “

------------

“And you people say something real; in fact from now on if any of you come out with that junglegoop bullshit, I'm gonna blow holes in you.”

Then he aims and shoots the TV .. the idiot box …the symbol of illusive or unreal life being lived by the Family.  Then he asks them to speak something real ..and all the 4  members of the Family start saying

“ Light …light….light….light…” .Then they start jumping vigorously and get exhausted and collapse one by one. This is a kind of ritualistic death  and then there is rebirth . The family members get up one by one and in a position of attention.

Then some  Black men and women enter the stage ... they arrange a party , start singing and dancing. They also blame and abuse one another.  Gradually the wild nigger party rises to full blast. Dancing, singing, cursing, fighting. The son crawls around the floor on his hands and knees following a black red-eyed girl with blonde hair and round sunglasses. The father dances around nude with a young negro in leather jacket .Thus , the white persons of the family get mixed up with the blacks . The language of the family members is now not absurd or unintelligible as before , it makes some sense. This is a kind of  rebirth , ‘ a new beginning’ where there is no racial bias or discrimination. The black criminal says “ This is the tone of America. My country 'tis of thee.”

Then the Black criminal also addresses the audience- that is the middle class blacks who are not ready to reform .Then he also shoots at them thrice..as in a ritual. Now the whole White and Black bourgeois  world  is dead except 4-5 persons . The black black criminal wishes a new beginning .The play ends on an optimistic note as  the Black Girl  goes  to look out the window.

“  Hey look, the sun's coming up. “  she says  and  bids good morning to the three black brothers.

Thus ,Baraka deals with  the theme of  racial  confrontation and  the dream of new Black America after getting rid of evil Whites and dull, middle class Blacks who are not ready to change and reform. He makes use of  African socio-dramatic and religious traditions  . He does  not distinguish the sacred from the secular, ritual from theatre, or theatre from life. The play encompasses  the total experience and aspirations of the Black community in America  including  their love for America. Thus , in all respects, The Home … is an Afro-American   , revolutionary  play written in ‘populist modernist ‘ style.

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Bottom of Form

Amiri Baraka’s Revolutionary Theatre: A Reapplication of African Ritual Paradigms (The rage expressed by Black dramatists in the 1960s may have peaked with the arrival of Amiri Baraka (formerly LeRoi Jones) on the theatrical scene. Prior to this time, a significant part of his growing up was informed by bitterness and violence. Baraka was born Everett LeRoy Jones in Newark, New Jersey, on October 7 1934. The 1930s depression, World War II, and the 1960s assassinations of Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, and John F. Kennedy provoked his disenchantment with world and America politics, and with America’s racial policies. In 1957, following his “undesirable” discharge from the Air Force, for which he had no regrets, Baraka moved to New York. On settling in Greenwich Village, Baraka spent more time writing poetry and experimenting with drama. The Beat community on New York’s Lower East Side afforded him the atmosphere to develop an art that has been defined as “populist modernism.” Populist modernism integrated “populist” Black experiences with those aspects of modernist Western literature and literary theory that were considered excellent and, therefore, appropriate. Opposed to bourgeois literature, which, in Baraka’s view, catered to the interests and aspirations of the elite and failed to pose a threat to White America, populist literature played a functional role in targeting common people, particularly Blacks, and addressing critical issues that affected their lives. The Beat period, 1957-62, was the first phase of Baraka’s rebellion against the bourgeois separation of life and art, since, at this time, he began to ascribe to the notion of art as an extension of the artist. To reinforce this ideal, he advocated Bohemianism, an antibourgeois approach that attacked bourgeois life and aesthetic styles. Populist and Bohemian principles offered Baraka an exploratory freedom that was lacking in standard bourgeois art. In departing artistically from middle-class values, he was able to identify emotionally with the oppressed. Baraka’s anger and pro-nationalist stance are thus traceable to his political views and activities, for which he had a number of clashes with the police and White racists. In 1967 he was thrown in jail for a “misdemeanor” that was never proven. Affected by this background, the explosion of racial anxiety and violence in the 1960s, and the emergence of Black artistic, religious, and political movements within and beyond America, Baraka’s drama championed aggressive solutions to America’s Black crisis. In all, therefore, his emergence as an activist was part of an ongoing artistic and political evolution that spanned the 1950s through the 70s. The impact of Baraka’s transatlantic background on his drama partly manifests in his emergence as a major spokesman for the 1960s Black Arts Movement, which centered on experimentation with African socio-dramatic and religious traditions. In his reliance on African ritual forms, which he restructured within a Black American context, Baraka borrowed from a belief system that forged a close and sacred tie between the people and their social and natural environment. It is a relationship culled from the ancient inseparability of religious practice and secular events – folklore, ceremonies, or festivals. Although these ritual paradigms underwent transformation when they resurfaced in the New World, Baraka sought to reclaim their basic role in African society. African ancestral models also surfaced in Baraka’s support for and commitment to the Black Theatre Movement, an offshoot of the Black Arts Movement. Both Movements shared the quest for a viable, anti-racist, independent Black theatre and influenced the founding of Baraka’s Black Arts Repertory Theatre in 1965, and his Spirit House Movers and Players troupe in 1968. Activities of the Repertory Theatre and Spirit House centered on the ideals of Baraka’s “Black Revolutionary Theatre” manifesto, which defied the ambivalence he associated with integrationist drama, and which further demonstrated his interest in African socio-artistic values. To fulfill the goals of the Revolutionary Theatre, Baraka borrowed from and utilized the efficacy of customary African rituals and sacrifice. His confidence in ritual evolved around his nationalistic “return” to ancestral precepts. In preserving this sacred worldview, his Revolutionary Theatre adopted a rite-of-passage structure that thrived on violence and sacrificial rebirth. In part, therefore, Baraka presented Black drama as an extension of the oral traditions of Africa, and as a genre rooted in specific African sensibilities. The importance of exploiting African ritual and dramatic forms was twofold for Baraka; his plays threatened the oppressor while entering into the rediscovery of his heritage. As his revolutionary drama progressed, Baraka’s status as Black Nationalist also developed. He increasingly incorporated black-based music, dance, language, and lifestyles as integral parts of his form, and, in this way, retained a deliberate Black and African-rooted rhetoric. The impact of tapping from a broad range of performance elements was with a desire to involve his audience emotionally, intellectually, verbally, and physically, much like the traditional African spectator-participant that becomes a fundamental part of performance through its choric presence. Up until its demise, the Revolutionary Theatre was reinvigorated by the reciprocal energy that it distributed among its audience. Beyond the incorporation of several related genres, Baraka’s ritual drama was a bloody rite, one of exclusion and vengeance, purging Black society of White profanity( ill-treatment ). Whites were symbolically judged and exterminated along with their Black accomplices, a pattern aimed at engraining the Theatre’s message in the consciousness of its primary Black audience. Bloody sacrifice became Baraka’s formula for Black rebirth and American regeneration, which is why his revolutionary plays were structured on recurring archetypal, thematic, and stylistic traits. Characters were typically allegorical, with White adversaries materializing as beasts or devils that had to be judged and destroyed along with their accomplices – middle-class Blacks who failed to reform. As a rule, the dramatic contest presented Black as good and White as evil, where, in the end, good triumphed over evil. It was a courtroom theatre where Whites were summoned and then summarily condemned and punished, and where peaceful negotiations were eschewed. The functional basis of Baraka’s drama was thus situated in a spiritual dimension aroused and sustained through ritual. The communality generated by ritual supported his ideology and retained certain liturgical qualities that derived from his African background.

*   *   *   *   * LeRoi Jones: Pursued by the Furies  A Review of Home on the Range  By Paul Velde The blacks may not be the only ones who want to chuck the whole of Western civilization and start over again, but they seem to be the only ones the majority of whites are willing to believe, or at least to make a good pretense at it.  LeRoi Jones, for instance, is taken literally when he calls for the death of all white devils, or whatever.  The question with Jones is just how one should take him.  To take him seriously as a racist, but not as a poet, is the usual reaction, but that is too easy, and perhaps dangerous as well. The most recent Jones sally against the devils was his piece for voices and music which played in an East Village theater to a mixed audience of blacks and whites attending a benefit for the jailed leaders of California’s Black Panther Party.  The piece was both a proto-liturgy for black raciality and, more interestingly, an attempt to get back to the origins of blackness.  Rather, one should say that Jones tried to evoke those beginnings,  or any beginnings that promised to work.  On the most obvious level, the effect of the performance was to raise the tension between the blacks and whites to a point that at times seemed close to combat. Jones calls his piece “Home on the Range,” which apparently drops with sarcasm on the right ears.  It begins with a long stretch of electronic mix, soul sounds rather effectively blended with what seemed to be African and Arabic influences, “Black,” says a male voice, repeating the word at intervals, then alternating it with “blackness.”  As the intervals become shorter, the voice takes on a chanting quality: “black, blackness, blackness, black.”  At this, one settles back on the seat, hopefully for the duration.  Gradually other elements are introduced.  One line, “older than time,” seemed particularly suggestive, and gives a fair idea of the direction and tone of the earlier parts of Jones’ “Range.”  Other lines had to do with truth and sex, all asserting in one way or another the mystique and  mystery of blackness.  Up to this point, however, the reference is only to color.  The chanting is followed by a litany of attributes, “black is beautiful” on through ultimates of being, time, creation, godhead, arriving, presumably, at an ontological wonder of blackness.  The color is no longer an attribute, but being itself.  Despite the blatant hocus pocus of the manipulation, and the language which was nothing special, the overall result was a quite moving recitation that curiously did seem to touch the chords of racial history. Unfortunately for Jones’ purpose, he is trapped by his reliance on English.  In the end, it is the racial drama of the West, not of Africa that he traverses with his thesaurus categories.  Perhaps this accounts for the certain pathetic quality of all superlatives.  For if national and cultural histories have to do with exploits, defeats and accomplishments, racial histories with their primordial expansions and contractions carry the weight of the sheer misery of existence.  They are creations, too, for race is one of the excuses for necessity in life, whether told in the woe of the Jews or the Manichaean luminations of Jones.  To have sat through an hour or so of Home on the Range  is truly to be home again, with the terrorized voices of Masters’ Spoon River when the grave is closing in.  Finally, the piece gets to dealing with whites specifically and in terms hardly recommended for sensitive souls.  Jones had made the same points in a talk earlier in the evening, that blacks are more natural, more creative than whites, who are imitative and who basically want to be like blacks.  “Blacks are naturally superior; the whites will submit,” was the message. Jones shares the poverty of the West, its dreadful absolutes, and its hysterical drive to cut the Gordian knot.  Whether this inheritance will be sufficient to liberate him and his black brothers from racial servitude is uncertain.  It all depends on what is meant by liberation.  But at this stage of Jones’ investigations into blackness, the result appears to be a militant form of black racism.  Inasmuch as he is a poet laboring in English and a product of a literary tradition that prides itself on its essential humanism and its moral stance as critic of society, this has been more disconcerting to whites, educated or not, than the rhetoric of Malcolm X, or the earlier Marcus Garvey. Indeed, when the New Jersey judge cited a line from Jones’ poetry (“Up against the wall, motherfucker!”) when sentencing him to prison, few liberals did not experience mixed feelings over the matter.  Under normal circumstances Jones would have been a cultural hero, on principle if not out of personal preference.  He is a cultural hero to blacks, and to some whites for reasons that are not necessarily masochistic.  (His up-against-the-wall line was what Columbia students shouted at police over the barricades, some quite non-violent types have been known to sense the poetry of the line.)  But for most liberals the New Jersey scene was a sorry business best forgotten.  Judge Learned Hand, whose eloquent defense of the Smith Act was once set up as a model of responsible liberalism, but which few remember now, would undoubtedly have known better than to hold Jones’ poetry against him.  But it is still a sorry business to see a poet go to jail.  Some argue, however, that Jones is not a very good poet.  Maybe a national poetry commission could be established to do to Jones what the boxing commission did to Muhammad Ali. But if Jones is still to be regarded as a poet, then it only makes sense that he be allowed the same complexity of position and statement that his fellow poets are.  That implies in part the recognition that he cannot safely skip over the difficult parts of his development, or that the final outcome of his investigations into his human condition should be anymore known to him than ours is to us. If Jones commanded black legions marching on the country with guns, this might be a different story.  But as it happens, the only legions Jones commands are in his imagination and in ours.  There is an imaginary battle going on between blacks and whites in this country, not unlike the chess battles fought by Chinese generals in lieu of a real slaughter.  Nobody seems to want to get killed, though clearly a lot of people want to do some killing.  The black community so far has managed to confine their slaughter to a mental action.  The same cannot be said of the whites with their gun-wielding police.  However, if the fullness of the actual event is not necessary to resolve the racial conflict in America, then the liberal celebrators of the American experience can for once say that this country has matured. At this point the outcome is very much in doubt.  Jones and the whole problem of racism in the country calls upon whites to truly use their imaginations.  Jones is performing the minimum Western ritual to bring this about, possibly because he is in no position to do otherwise.  But it is an indication of the fear and immaturity he faces that a New Jersey judge mistook a line of poetry for a gun in hand.  The same literal-minded approach fills the communications media everyday.  This is not to say that Jones is not perfectly capable of using a gun.  But then neither side has yet been compelled to go the full route of race war.  If racists do their work with fire and steel, then perhaps it is not very useful to see Jones as a racist.  Because Jones works on the head.  There is a difference, even though some fail to see it.  Poetry has its uses. Paul Velde, a former assistant editor of Commonweal, wrote on the new media for The Nation, The Village Voice and others.

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Home on the Range

( some additional question points)

·         “ Home ….  “ as a futuristic parody of the hypnotic / mind altering effects of television on white  society.

·         In his  “ Home….” , Baraka debunks / ridicules the falseness , sham or exaggerated claims of popular white culture ( as presented in the mass media) that all is well , the whites are advanced , the blacks are inferior , etc.

The white family in the play  has been  affected  by excessive exposure to  TV/ media/ technology . Their life  has become stagnant/ static/ mechanical/ monotonous . They  are not aware of the reality but  are engrossed in the world of virtual reality .

            Laughter is coming from the television set. A cold hideous sustaining laughter. ……..

Laughter goes on, rising. Then broken by explosions, of great dimension. Screams. People in violent turmoil. The laughter rises again above it. Now the FAMILY, the MOTHER starting it, passing it to the  SON, to the DAUGHTER, then the FATHER. They all begin to imitate the laughter on the television screen. They are wiggling and shaking, slapping each other and grabbing themselves in a frenzy of wicked merriment.

They have lost their  identity and have become ‘types’ / ‘ machines’ / ‘ robots’. They have  become lifeless victims a system created by themselves ( the Whites) . The media has affected their language also … so they speak a kind of  jargon. The criminal can not understand the disjointed words and phrases of the language used by the family. On the other hand the family cannot understand his language, his demand for money/ jewels.

The black criminal takes upon himself  the task of reintroducing the white family to their original identity. He is helped in this task by the group of black people who enter and arrange the ‘ wild nigger  party’.

By the end it is the black community ( the black criminal and other black persons) that bring in life and vigor in the white family  by means of their language , song , dance and fighting. In other words the blacks  bring sanity to  the absurd life of the whites. They restore their individuality/ humanity. Thus the black criminal becomes the savior of the white .Thus, Baraka  reverses the frequent role of blacks as hopeless victims of white oppression to those who triumph at the close of the play by bringing into balance an unfair system. ( This is the ‘ inversion strategy’ … inverting an original stereotype e.g. black person as an inferior person to be exploited/ victimized by the superior white)

The play targets the bourgeois black audience as well. It warns the blacks that they would become merely mimic features  of an alien culture  if they keep on imitating  the whites and do not stick to their ( African) cultural base/ origins .

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THE  TEXT 

Home on the Range (1968)

A play by Amiri Baraka

Characters

The Father

The Mother

The Son

The Daughter

Black Criminal

A Crowd of Black People

Black Man 1

Black Woman 1

Black Man 2

Black Man 3

Black Girl

Act

American front room. Window upstage center. BLACK CRIMINAL appears, in window. FAMILY seated in room watching television, eating popcorn, chattering.

FATHER

Red hus beat the trim, doing going.

MOTHER

Yah, de 89 red garter shooting.

FATHER

Siboom, das blows.

MOTHER

Coil.

DAUGHTER

Deedee, dodo! Laredgrepe and stooble.

SON

Noik. Dissreal grump!

FATHER

Yak. Yak. Laughs.

MOTHER

Dirigible.

FATHER

Dulux cracks. The river. Yips.

MOTHER

And me.

FATHER

Tering. Gollygolly.

DAUGHTER

Ahhhhhhk. Bretzel. Mamarama.

BLACK CRIMINAL

watches, pulls his gun up. He is pulling himself up to look in the window.

FAMILY

goes on with their "talk."

FATHER

Crackywacky. Riprip. Dullong dulux cracks. Dirigible. [p. 3]

SON

Bahl-grepe. Ramona!

MOTHER

Dirigible.

BLACK CRIMINAL

disappears, FAMILY goes on with affairs. Changes TV channel, etc. There is a sudden, loud knock at the door.

FATHER

Gestetner, Criminies.

DAUGHTER

Vout. Resistcool. Dribble.

MOTHER

Achtung Swachtung.

DAUGHTER

gets up and goes to the door. Vatoloop? She is frozen at the door at the sight of the BLACK CRIMINAL. Bastoloop, Baspobo.

FATHER

more concerned. Swachtung, dirigible. Vatoloop? Gets up.

At the door, CRIMINAL is forcing DAUGHTER back into room.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Back up dollbaby, don't die in the doorway . . .

FATHER

seeing CRIMINAL, makes nervous step forward. Lurch. Crud. Daddoom. Crench!

BLACK CRIMINAL

What? Not understanding. You see this gun, mumbler. Back up or I burn you.

FATHER

Vataloop Lurch. Crench. Crench.

Shakes with fear, anger. Vacuvashtung Schwacuschwactung. Yiip! [p. 4]

BLACK CRIMINAL

What the hell's wrong with you? Goddam idiot, back up.

Rest of FAMILY now up and moving concerned toward door. Are frozen when they see FATHER and DAUGHTER under the BLACK CRIMINAL's gun.

SON

Gash. Lurch. Crud. Daddoon.

FATHER

turns to son. Yiip. Vachtung. Credool. Conchmack. Vouty.

MOTHER

screams suddenly at scene. Ahhhhyyyyyyy . . . Grenchnool crud lurch.

Rushes forward. SON restrains her.

BLACK CRIMINAL

What kind of shit is this? What the fuck's wrong with you people?

FAMILY

now huddles together in a collective whimper. MOTHER is still being restrained, now collectively. The FATHER strokes her nose.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Jesus.

Looking around . . . tentatively, cautiously. All of you, back up in the other room. Take your seats. Do what you was doing.

Laughter is coming from the television set. A cold hideous sustaining laughter. That backs the CRIMINAL unintentionally into the wallpaper. [p. 5]

BLACK CRIMINAL

Goddam.

He waves gun at television.

Laughter goes on, rising. Then broken by explosions, of great dimension. Screams. People in violent turmoil. The laughter rises again above it. Now the FAMILY, the MOTHER starting it, passing it to the

SON, to the DAUGHTER, then the FATHER. They all begin to imitate the laughter on the television screen. They are wiggling and shaking, slapping each other and grabbing themselves in a frenzy of wicked merriment.

FAMILY

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

BLACK CRIMINAL

shaken, and pointing his gun now at one of the group, who are falling on the floor, or onto the furniture still laughing. Goddamit. What the hell's wrong with you folks? Goddamit, shutup, shutup.

SON

pointing at CRIMINAL. Vataloop bingo. Vashmash. Cratesy. Ming.

The FAMILY howls even louder.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Shutup, shutup.

He aims and shoots at the television set. And the FAMILY stops laughing as suddenly as the bullet shattering the set's tubes. Shutup! His shout now alone is very loud.

The FAMILY begins to sit down stonily. The CRIMINAL, panting, and distressed, stands tensely shaken in the center of the room. The FAMILY stares sadly at the television set. [p. 6]

MOTHER

very sadly. Vachtung.

BLACK CRIMINAL

What? Goddamit, why do you people talk like that? What kind of language is that? I'm no fool. I been places. What kind of language you speaking?

No answer from the FAMILY. The MOTHER and SON turn languidly and look at the CRIMINAL with a slothful mixture of despair and hatred. CRIMINAL moves over to the FATHER.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Hey, you.

Raising gun near his face. You hear me talking to you. Your ears ain't painted on.

FATHER

looks at the CRIMINAL steadily. Then he mumbles. Vo eein. Ruggles. And stuff.

BLACK CRIMINAL

What? What you mean?

Shakes gun. Speak up.

MOTHER

shouts. Crindlebindle. Stoopnagel funk.

BLACK CRIMINAL

What?

Moves gun toward her, but FATHER steps forward in front of gun, raises his hand.

FATHER

Crillilly bagfest. Gobble Gobble. Gooble.

BLACK CRIMINAL

What? [p. 7]

FATHER

begins unbuckling his belt, steps out of his trousers. He has huge valentines sewn on his drawers. Gooble. Crillilly.

MOTHER

stands. Waving her finger at FATHER. Yaaash. Passsh. Chameleon.

FATHER

turning to her angrily, waving her into her seat. Gnash. Pash. Flags and Fags.

FATHER

begins doing a little step. Showing his dancing form to the CRIMINAL. He sings a song. Bubbles. Bubbles. Bubbles. Bubbles. Witchnight creaks. And bang.

BLACK CRIMINAL

You almost made sense that time. What the hell's going on? Look you, sit down. I don't have time to look at your boney ass trying to dance. I'm just a working man. And I've come, quite frankly, to commit a crime.

FAMILY

looks at him startled.You can't sit here, looking as weird as you do, and talking as weird as you do, and look at me weird when I say I came to commit a crime. This is the reign of terror, and I am Robespierre.

FAMILY

begins to giggle. FATHER does a dance, threatening to strip off his pants. [p. 8]

DAUGHTER

in background, starts to loosen her clothes, watching her FATHER cavort. She gets up and begins to cavort. She jiggles around loosely, opening her clothes.

SON

begins to clap his hands to imaginary unrhythmical beat.

SON

Vataloop. Vataloop. Bingo. Stringo. Vataloop jingo.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Shutup that shit, moron. If you want to talk, talk. For instance, you should have said, this is not the reign of terror, and Robespierre is dead, and was white, anyway.

FATHER

stands holding his legs as if he was cold.Put on your clothes, Moriarti. And you people say something real; in fact from now on if any of you come out with that junglegoop bullshit, I'm gonna blow holes in you. Dig it?

FAMILY

looks at each other. FATHER suddenly makes a slight gesture at wall behind CRIMINAL. A VOICE comes over a concealed loudspeaker.

LOUDSPEAKER

THIS IS THE VOICE OF GOD, EVERYTHING'S COOL! REPEAT! THIS IS THE VOICE OF GOD. YOUR GOD, WHOEVER YOU ARE, AND IT'S ME SAYING, EVERYTHING'S COOL! REPEAT. EVERYTHING'S COOL! [p. 9]

BLACK CRIMINAL

turns and shoots where the sound is coming from and the voice breaks off. The FAMILY jumps up startled.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Jewish accent. You got the wrong vampire. Sit down.

Now all FAMILY begins talking at once. In loud dinnish babble.

FAMILY

Criminies. Vatloop. Crouch. Bibble. Bibble. Crunch. Jab. Cribble. Awwwk. Awwwk. Crunch. Loop. Question. Bablies. Deaths. Robots. Jobs.

They end by screaming in unison. LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT

BLACK CRIMINAL

I understand you. You're talking close to right now. Keep it up. Keep it up.

They begin jumping up and down in place, screaming at the top of their lungs. Jumping wildly, trying to reach the ceiling. A screaming fear is tearing their faces.

FAMILY

LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT.

BLACK CRIMINAL

backs away from them. Light? What kind of place is this? They were more together when they were talking that other jive. Light, what?

The FAMILY jumps until they are exhausted then they crumple to the floor, or on the furniture, one by one. [p. 10]

BLACK CRIMINAL

Jesus, what kind of place . . .

Starts cautiously to look around for something to steal. Moves gun around in front of him as he moves. Looks in drawers, turning very often to look at the slumping family. Picks up a few small things, throws some back in disgust. Finally turns to FAMILY.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Hey, you people . . . wake the hell up . . .

Still looking, alternating between mumble and loud exasperated talk. Hey kid . . . Going over to SON. What the hell's going on in this place? I mean, jesus white christ, you go into some slick looking dump just to do a little business, make a little money . . . goddam, this ain't even my neighborhood. I come down here, to pop these chumps, and look what I run into . . .

Gesturing. Paddyboy Christ!

Shaking SON again. Hey, hey, boy. Wake the fuck up, willya??

SON

stirs, looks up dazed and shaking his head. He tries to stand. CRIMINAL helps him upright. When he is standing, now trembling, he makes final effort to stand and then with great difficulty, gets words out.

SON

Light! Lightlight light!

BLACK CRIMINAL

Aw shit.

Throws SON back where he was sprawled. I heard that before . . . Ya' little . . .

Searches for word . . . . punk! Damn . . .

Stands looking at them. Damn. All I did . . .

Throwing up his hands. . . . was go out and look for a job . . . like all them cats in the newspapers say niggers ought to . . . and what do I run into . . . a goddam funnyfarm! [p. 11]

DAUGHTER

comes to consciousness for a brief second. She opens her eyes, raises her head.

DAUGHTER

Vataloop. Crunch.

Sinks back.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Aw bullshit. She done retrogressed!

Hole in the wall where speaker was, starts grinding again, with broken, churning, gurgling sound.

LOUDSPEAKER

Awwwwwwkkkk . . . awkkkk . . .

Seems to be gaining momentum, as if it was about to start, does start. Vataloop, Crunch. Criminies. Swachtung . . .

BLACK CRIMINAL

turns and fires again.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Oh, nogood, nogood . . . none of that bullshit from you!

Speaker gurgles, responding as if wounded by shot. . .cuts off with final statements. . .

LOUDSPEAKER

Light. . .awwk. . .li. . .awwk. . .awwk. . .awwwwkkkkkkkk.

Runs out.

Now lights dim, and go down. . .finally off. Black. Lights come up and the entire FAMILY is standing up at attention.

CRIMINAL is slumping against the bar, sound asleep, but in a few seconds, as the FAMILY stands at attention, the MOTHER even, finally, clearing her throat. [p. 12]

MOTHER

Aruuuuumph.

The BLACK CRIMINAL comes awake with a start. The gun comes up, but then he seems to sense a different set of vibrations in the place, and he, too, comes to attention. The MOTHER sort of beckons to him to come over to where they are standing with just a slight toss of her head. CRIMINAL comes over. Then he, as if from a pre-signal, jams his gun into his breast pocket, and takes a collapsible baton out of the other pocket. He begins, with great fanfare (tapping on chair as if it is a music stand, calling for attention with his head and now very haughty demeanor, turning to acknowledge an invisible audience) to conduct the FAMILY singing: first a version of "America The Beautiful," then a soupy stupid version of the Negro National Anthem, "Lift Every Voice and Sing," which comes to a super-dramatic climax, with the CRIMINAL having been moved to tears, finally giving a super-military salute. As they reach the highest point of the song, suddenly a whole CROWD OF BLACK PEOPLE pushes through the door. The CRIMINAL wheels around, at first, startled, then he lets out a yell of recognition, and there is a general yowl from all the BLACK PEOPLE, and they proceed to run around and once they all take in the FAMILY, with second takes, over the shoulder jibes, and stage-whispered insult-inquiries, they race around and begin getting ready for a party. [p. 13]

BLACK CRIMINAL

Hey. Hey. What's happening? What the hell you folks doing here?

BLACK MAN

Hey, Billy, baby, we heard you was here working out, we figured we'd come down and see what was happening.

BLACK WOMAN 1

Yeh, Tillie figured there might be some grey-chicks down here, so she sent us down here to keep you cool.

BLACK PEOPLE

laugh.

The FAMILY is standing in the middle of the floor, speechless, at first. But when the records go on, most of them 45s taken out of one of the women's bags, the FAMILY tries to get involved in the party, mostly dancing with each other. The DAUGHTER finally dances with a very light-skinned sissy type negro with a briefcase and snap-brimmed Madison Avenue hat. The negro, when dancing frug-like with the DAUGHTER still never less his briefcase out of his hand. He also holds onto his hat. Two big negroes are also dancing and tossing the MOTHER back and forth between them.

BLACK MAN 2

Hey, dig this bitch dance!

A wild nigger party rises to full blast in the house. Dancing, singing, cursing, fighting. The MOTHER is tossed back and forth. The MOTHER is sprawled catatonically on the floor doing a spastic jerk as The Jerk. The SON crawls around the floor on his hands and knees following a black red-eyed girl with blonde hair and round sunglasses. The FATHER dances around nude with a young negro in leather jacket who waves his knife in front of him to make the FATHER keep his manly distance. The CRIMINAL is absorbed in the party, then backs off to watch. Then he turns smartly toward the audience, holding his gun out at them. [p. 14]

BLACK CRIMINAL

This is the tone of America. My country 'tis of thee.

He shoots out over the audience. This is the scene of the Fall. The demise of the ungodly.

He shoots once. Then quickly twice. This is the cool takeover in the midst of strong rhythms, and grace. Wild procession. Jelly beans. French poodles. Razor Cuts. Filth. Assassinations of Gods. This is the end.

He shoots.Run. Bastards. Run. You grimy motherfuckers who have no place in the new the beautiful the black change of the earth. Who don't belong in the motherfucking world. Faggot Frankensteins of my sick dead holy brother. You betta' get outta here.

He shoots again three times. The World!

Black.

The scene is as before with niggers lying all over everything. The house broke up. The weird talking grays piled in the center of a whiskey sleep dope ring of colored people.

The CRIMINAL squats over the FAMILY along with two others, the only people awake in the house.

BLACK CRIMINAL

O. K., let's have it again.

FATHER

I was born in Kansas City in 1920. My father was the vice-president of a fertilizer company. Before that we were phantoms. . .

Waving at his FAMILY. Evil ghosts without substance. [p. 15]

BLACK CRIMINAL

looks at his brothers, nodding, as if a theory of his has been proven.

BLACK MAN

somewhat sleepily. Yeh. . . yeh. . .well ast the bastid why they put everybody through all these changes.

Droops.

BLACK MAN 2

spots one of the women, the blonde-head black girl, stirring in the corner. He rises quickly, punching the CRIMINAL.

BLACK MAN 2

Hey. . .the tricky one is still breathin'. . .

BLACK CRIMINAL

Beautiful.

BLACK MAN 2

Baby.

BLACK GIRL

Wow. That was some bash, all right.

BLACK MAN 2

You still look good, lady. Wish you belonged to me.

BLACK GIRL

Everything'll be O. K. I'm real. And healthy.

BLACK MAN 3

comes out of his droop, seeing the girl awake. We're the only survivors, maybe, maybe. . .I better see if any of them other. . .

Heads for the women, begins shaking them. Sister, Hey sister.

Slapping them gently on the faces. Hey, snap out of it. Hey, if you don't open your eyes right now, you gon' miss a beautiful man.

All laugh. [p. 16]

BLACK CRIMINAL

turning to FAMILY, who still sit apparently asleep, except for the FATHER, nodding heavily. Hey. . .Prods FATHER. Hey. Now let's begin again. From the top Mr. Tooful. All laugh.

FATHER

I was born in Kansas City in 1920. My father was the vice-president of a fertilizer company. Before that we were phantoms. . .

Nodding heavily, head hanging.

BLACK CRIMINAL

Come on, come on.

BLACK GIRL

going to look out the window. Hey look, the sun's coming up.

Turns around, greeting the three brothers. Good Morning, Men. Good Morning.

THE END

FYBA  SHORT NOTES FOR Q 1

Setting:

Setting is  broadly defined as the physical location (including the region, geography, climate, neighborhood, buildings, and interiors ) and the time (such as weather, lighting, the season, and the hour ) of a story.  It provides the background to the actions of the characters  But it is more than a mere backdrop for action; it is an interactive aspect of the fictional world that saturates the story with mood, meaning, and thematic connotations .

1.   Locale. This relates to broad categories such as a country, state, region, city, and town, as well as to more specific locales, such as a neighborhood, street, house or school. Other locales can include shorelines, islands, farms, rural areas, etc.

 2.    Time of year. The time of year is richly evocative and influential in fiction. Time of year includes the seasons, but also encompasses holidays, such as Hanukkah, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and Halloween. Significant dates can also be used, such as the anniversary of a death of a character or real person, or the anniversary of a battle, such as the attack on Pearl Harbor.3.    Time of day. Scenes need to play out during various times or periods during a day or night, such as dawn or dusk. Readers have clear associations with different periods of the day, making an easy way to create a visual orientation in a scene.4.      Mood and atmosphere. Characters and events are influenced by weather, temperature, lighting, and other tangible factors, which in turn influence the mood, and atmosphere of a scene.5.      Geography. This refers to specific aspects of water, landforms, ecosystems,climate, soil, plants, trees, rocks . Geography can create obvious influences in a story like a mountain a character must climb, a swift-running river he must cross,6.    Man-made geography. E.G. dams, bridges, ports, towns and cities, monuments, burial grounds, cemeteries, and famous buildings. 

7.  Periods  of historical /social/political/cultural /importance. Important events, wars, or historical periods linked to t he plot and theme might include the Civil war, World War II, medieval times, industrial revolution, pre Independence era, etc.

FYBA ENGLISH - SHORT STORIES -QUESTIONS

THE STORY OF AN HOUR

Essay type  questions:

1. Bring out the  use of irony  in  The Story of an Hour   .
2. Discuss the the theme of marriage and freedom in The Story of an Hour   .
3. Discuss  the theme of  love versus self assertion  The Story of an Hour  
4. Comment on the character of  Mrs. Mallard as a wife and as an individual.
5. Do you think Mrs. Mallard is an uncommon and exceptional woman ? Why ? 
6. Comment on the setting an its role in The Story of an Hour  . 
7. "The Story of an Hour   deals with a moment of illumination  in the life of an individual ."- Comment.

SHORT NOTES

1. The aptness of  title  The Story of an Hour   
2. End of  The Story of an Hour 
3. The setting of The Story of an Hour   
4. Mr. Richards 
5. The death of Mrs. Mallard
6. The death of Mr. Mallard
7. Minor characters  in  The Story of an Hour   

Improve your writing skills

 Dear Students, 

This blog of our department is a good medium to share with you some useful links to improve various study skills. So here is link that will help you to  improve your writing skills.

 http://learnenglishteens.britishcouncil.org/skills/writing-skills-practice/and-against-essay

Model Answers

THE STORY OF AN HOUR

Essay type  questions:

1. Bring out the  use of irony  in  The Story of an Hour   .
2. Discuss the the theme of marriage and freedom in The Story of an Hour   .
3. Discuss  the theme of  love versus self assertion  The Story of an Hour  
4. Comment on the character of  Mrs. Mallard as a wife and as an individual.
5. Do you think Mrs. Mallard is an uncommon and exceptional woman ? Why ? 
6. Comment on the setting an its role in The Story of an Hour  . 
7. "The Story of an Hour   deals with a moment of illumination  in the life of an individual ."- Comment.

SHORT NOTES

1. The aptness of  title  The Story of an Hour   
2. End of  The Story of an Hour 
3. The setting of The Story of an Hour   
4. Mr. Richards 
5. The death of Mrs. Mallard
6. The death of Mr. Mallard
7. Minor characters  in  The Story of an Hour