The Naturewoman
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Upton Sinclair
Upton Sinclair (1878-1968) was an American writer from Maryland. Though he wrote across many genres, Sinclair’s most famous works were politically motivated. His self-published novel, The Jungle, exposed the labor conditions in the meatpacking industry. This novel even inspired changes for working conditions and helped pass protection laws. The Brass Check exposed poor journalistic practices at the time and was also one of his most famous works. As a member of the socialist party, Sinclair attempted a few political runs but when defeated he returned to writing. Sinclair won the Pulitzer Prize in 1943 for Fiction. Several of his works were made into film adaptations and one earned two Oscars.
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The Naturewoman - Upton Sinclair
THE NATUREWOMAN
..................
Upton Sinclair
KYPROS PRESS
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Copyright © 2016 by Upton Sinclair
Interior design by Pronoun
Distribution by Pronoun
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Naturewoman
CHARACTERS
ACT I
ACT II
ACT III
ACT IV
THE NATUREWOMAN
..................
CHARACTERS
Oceana: the Naturewoman.
Mrs. Sophronia Masterson: of Beacon Street, Boston.
Quincy Masterson, M.D.: her husband.
Freddy Masterson: her son.
Ethel Masterson: her younger daughter.
Mrs. Letitia Selden: her elder daughter.
Henry Selden: Letitia’s husband.
Remson: a butler.
ACT I
Drawing-room of the Masterson home; afternoon in winter.
ACT II
The same; the next afternoon.
ACT III
A portion of the parlor, as a stage; the same evening.
ACT IV
Henry Selden’s camp in the White Mountains; afternoon, a week later.
ACT I
[Scene shows a luxuriously furnished drawing-room. Double doors, centre, opening to hall and stairway. Grand piano at right, fireplace next to it, with large easy-chair in front. Centre table; windows left, and chairs.]
[At rise: ETHEL standing by table; a beautiful but rather frail girl of sixteen; opening a package containing photograph in frame.]
ETHEL. Oceana! Oceana! [She gazes at it in rapture.] Oh, I wonder if she’ll be as good as she is beautiful! She must be! Oceana! [To REMSON, an old, white-haired family servant, who enters with flowers in vase.] No message from my brother yet?
REMSON. Nothing, Miss Ethel.
ETHEL. Look at this, Remson.
REMSON. [Takes photograph.] Is that your cousin, Miss Ethel?
ETHEL. That’s she. Isn’t she lovely?
REMSON. Yes, miss. Is that the way they dress in those parts?
ETHEL. The natives don’t even wear that much, Remson.
REMSON. It must be right warm there, I fancy.
ETHEL. Oh, yes... they never know what cold weather is.
REMSON. What is the name of it, Miss Ethel?
ETHEL. Maukuri—it’s in the South Seas.
REMSON. It seems like I’ve heard of cannibals in those parts, somewhere.
ETHEL, Yes, in some of the groups. But this is just one little island by itself... nothing else for a hundred miles and more.
REMSON. And she’s lived there all this time, Miss Ethel?
ETHEL. Fifteen years, Remson.
REMSON. And no folks at all there?
ETHEL. Not since her father died.
REMSON. [Shakes his head.] Humph! She’d ought to be glad to get home, Miss Ethel.
ETHEL. She didn’t seem to feel that way. [Takes book and seats herself by fireplace.] But we’ll try to make her change her mind. Just think of it... she’s been forty-six days on the steamer!
REMSON. Can it be possible, miss?
ETHEL. Wasn’t that the street door just now, Remson?
REMSON. I thought so, Miss Ethel. [Moves to door.] Oh! Mrs. Masterson.
MRS. MASTERSON. [In doorway; a Boston Brahman, aged fifty, wearing street costume, black.] Any news yet, Remson?
REMSON. None, madam.
MRS. MASTERSON. Master Frederick is at the dock?
REMSON. Yes, madam.
DR. MASTERSON. [Enters; slightly younger than his wife, a dapper little man, bald and henpecked.] No news from the steamer, my dear?
MRS. MASTERSON. None.
REMSON. Anything further, madam?
MRS. MASTERSON. Nothing.
[Exit REMSON.]
DR. MASTERSON. It’ll be too bad if Oceana has to spend this evening on the steamer.
MRS. MASTERSON. Have you taken to calling her by that ridiculous name also?
DR. MASTERSON. Surely she has a right to select her name!
MRS. MASTERSON. I was present when she was christened; and so were you, Quincy. For ME she will remain Anna Talbot until the day she dies.
DR. MASTERSON. Anna or Oceana... there’s not much difference, it seems. [Takes paper and sits by window; they do not see ETHEL.] Weren’t Letitia and Henry to be here?
MRS. MASTERSON. Letitia was... but she’s never on time. There’s the bell now. [Looks at photograph.] Humph! So Ethel’s had it framed! I declare... people ought not to be shown a photograph like that.. . it’s not decent.
DR. MASTERSON. My dear! It’s the South Sea Islands!
MRS. MASTERSON. [Severely.] This is Back Bay. Oh! Letitia!
LETITIA. [Enters; aged about twenty-eight, prim and decorous, Patterned after her mother; black street costume, with furs.] No news from the steamer, it seems! Dear me, such weather!
MRS. MASTERSON. You didn’t walk, I hope?
LETITIA. No, but even getting into the stores! I’m exhausted.
DR. MASTERSON. [Looking from paper.] Henry coming?
LETITIA. He said he might drop in. He’s curious to see the lady.
DR. MASTERSON. Humph! No doubt!
LETITIA. Mother, I wish you’d try to do something with Henry. He’s so restless and discontented... he’s getting to be simply impossible.
MRS. MASTERSON. I’m going to talk to him to-day, my dear.
LETITIA. Fancy my going out and burying myself in the country! And he means it... he’s at me all the time about it!
MRS.