The Balcony: A Play

By Jean Genet

A masterpiece of twentieth-century drama by the iconic author of Our Lady of the Flowers: “ingenious, intellectually exciting, and, yes, still quite shocking” (The New York Times).
 
In the midst of a city ravaged by violent rebellion, a brothel caters to the elaborate role-playing fantasies of men from all walks of life. A gas company worker pretends to be a bishop while, in the next room, another customer dons a judge’s robe to savor the erotic pleasures of meting out justice—and punishment. These perverse costumed masquerades parody the larger, more violent dramas of the outside world. But as the anarchic political struggle threatens to topple society, even the revolutionaries come to believe that illusions are preferable to reality.
 
A poet, novelist, playwright, and outlaw, Jean Genet helped define French existential theater of the mid-twentieth century. Deeply influential and widely acclaimed, Genet’s The Balcony presents an unrelentingly profound and critical reflection of contemporary society.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Jan 21, 1994
• ISBN: 9780802194299

Book preview

THE BALCONY

WORKS BY JEAN GENET

Published by Grove Press

The Balcony

The Blacks

Funeral Rites

The Maids & Deathwatch

Miracle of the Rose

Our Lady of the Flowers

Querelle

The Screens

The Thief's Journal

THE BALCONY

by

JEAN GENET

translated by

BERNARD FRECHTMAN

Revised Version

Figure

GROVE PRESS

NEW YORK

Copyright © 1958, 1960 by Bernard Frechtman

Copyright © 1966 by Jean Genet and Bernard Frechtman

This play is a translation of Le Balcon (revised edition, 1962)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Scanning, uploading, and electronic distribution of this book or the facilitation of such without the permission of the publisher is prohibited. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. Any member of educational institutions wishing to photocopy part or all of the work for classroom use, or anthology, should send inquiries to Grove/Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003 or [e-mail].

CAUTION : Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that The Balcony is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, and all British Commonwealth countries, and all countries covered by the International Copyright Union, the Pan-American Copyright Convention, and the Universal Copyright Convention. All rights, including professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

First-class professional, stock, and amateur applications for permission to perform it, and those other rights stated above, must be made in advance to the author's agents: Rosica Colin Ltd., 1 Clareville Grove Mews, London SW7 5AH, England, for the English market, and to Samuel French, Inc., 45 West 25th Street, New York, NY 10010, for the American market.

Published simultaneously in Canada

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 58-9490

ISBN-13: 9780802194299

Grove Press

an imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

841 Broadway

New York, NY 10003

Distributed by Publishers Group West

www.groveatlantic.com

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THE BALCONY

CHARACTERS

THE BISHOP

THE JUDGE

THE EXECUTIONER (ARTHUR)

THE GENERAL

THE CHIEF OF POLICE

THE BEGGAR

ROGER

THE COURT ENVOY

THE FIRST PHOTOGRAPHER

THE SECOND PHOTOGRAPHER

THE THIRD PHOTOGRAPHER

IRMA (THE QUEEN)

THE WOMAN (ROSINE)

THE THIEF

THE GIRL

CARMEN

CHANTAL

SCENE ONE

On the ceiling, a chandelier, which will remain the same in each scene. The set seems to represent a sacristy, formed by three blood-red, cloth folding-screens. The one at the rear has a built-in door. Above, a huge Spanish crucifix, drawn in trompe l'oeil. On the right wall, a mirror, with a carved gilt frame, reflects an unmade bed which, if the room were arranged logically, would be in the first rows of the orchestra. A table with a large jug. A yellow armchair. On the chair, a pair of black trousers, a shirt and a jacket. THE BISHOP, in mitre and gilded cope, is sitting in the chair. He is obviously larger than life. The role is played by an actor wearing tragedian's cothurni about twenty inches high. His shoulders, on which the cope lies, are inordinately broadened so that when the curtain rises he looks huge and stiff, like a scarecrow. He wears garish make-up. At the side, a woman, rather young, highly made up and wearing a lace dressing-gown, is drying her hands with a towel. Standing by is another woman, IRMA. She is about forty, dark, severe-looking, and is wearing a black tailored suit and a hat with a tight string (like a chin-strap).

THE BISHOP (sitting in the chair, middle of the stage. In a low but fervent voice) : In truth, the mark of a prelate is not mildness or unction, but the most rigorous intelligence. Our heart is our undoing. We think we are master of our kindness; we are the slaves of a serene laxity. It is something quite other than intelligence that is involved. . . . (He hesitates.) It may be cruelty. And beyond that cruelty—and through it—a skilful, vigorous course towards Absence. Towards Death. God? (Smiling)I can read your mind! (To his mitre)Mitre, bishop's bonnet, when my eyes close for the last time, it is you that I shall see behind my eyelids, you, my beautiful gilded hat . . . you, my handsome ornaments, copes, laces. . . .

IRMA (bluntly) : An agreement's an agreement. When a deal's been made. . . .

(Throughout the scene she hardly moves. She is standing very near the door.)

THE BISHOP (very gently, waving her aside with a gesture) : And when the die is cast. . . .

IRMA : No. Twenty. Twenty and no nonsense. Or I'll lose my temper. And that's not like me. . . . Now, if you have any difficulties. . . .

THE BISHOP (curtly, and tossing away the mitre) : Thank you.

IRMA : And don't break anything. We need that. (To the woman) Put it away.

(She lays the mitre on the table, near the jug.)

THE BISHOP (after a deep sigh) : I've been told that this house is going to be besieged. The rebels have already crossed the river.

IRMA : There's blood everywhere. . . . You can slip round behind the Archbishop's Palace. Then, down Fishmarket Street. . . .

(Suddenly a scream of pain, uttered by a woman off-stage.)

IRMA (annoyed) : But I told them to be quiet. Good thing I remembered to cover the windows with padded curtains.

(Suddenly amiable, insidious)

Well, and what was it this evening? A blessing? A prayer? A mass? A perpetual adoration?

THE BISHOP (gravely) : Let's not talk about that now. It's over. I'm concerned only about getting home. . . . You say the city's splashed with blood. . . .

THE WOMAN : There was a blessing, Madame. Then, my confession. . . .

IRMA : And after that?

THE BISHOP : That'll do!

THE WOMAN : That was all. At the end, my absolution.

IRMA : Won't anyone be able to witness it? Just once?

THE BISHOP (frightened) : No, no. Those things must remain secret, and they shall. It's indecent enough to talk about them while I'm being undressed. Nobody. And all the doors must be closed. Firmly closed, shut, buttoned, laced, hooked, sewn. . . .

IRMA : I merely asked. . . .

THE BISHOP : Sewn, Madame.

IRMA (annoyed) : You'll allow me at least, won't you, to feel a little uneasy . . . professionally? I said twenty.

THE BISHOP (his voice suddenly grows clear and sharp, as if he were awakening. He displays a little annoyance) : We didn't tire ourselves. Barely six sins, and far from my favourite ones.

THE WOMAN : Six, but deadly ones! And it was a job finding those.

THE BISHOP (uneasy) : What? You mean they were false?

THE WOMAN : They were real, all right! I mean it was a job committing them. If only you realized what it takes, what a person has to go through, in order to reach the point of disobedience.

THE BISHOP : I can imagine, my child. The order of the world is so lax that you can do as you please there—or almost. But if your sins were false, you may say so now.

IRMA : Oh no! I can hear you complaining already the next time you come. No. They were real. (To the woman) Untie his laces. Take off his shoes. And when you dress him, be careful he doesn't catch cold. (To the Bishop) Would you like a toddy, a hot drink?

THE BISHOP : Thank you. I haven't time. I must be going. (Dreamily)

Yes, six, but deadly ones!

IRMA : Come here, we'll undress you!

THE BISHOP (pleading, almost on his knees) : No, no, not yet.

IRMA : It's time. Come on! Quick! Make it snappy!

(While they talk, the women undress him. Or rather they merely remove pins and untie cords that seem to secure the cope, stole and surplice.)

THE BISHOP (to the woman) : About the sins, you really did commit them?

THE WOMAN : I did.

THE BISHOP : You really made the gestures? All the gestures?

THE WOMAN: I did.

THE BISHOP : When you moved towards me with your face forward, was it really aglow with the light of the flames?

THE WOMAN : It was.

THE BISHOP : And when my ringed hand came down on your forehead, forgiving it. . . .

THE WOMAN : It was.

THE BISHOP : And when my gaze pierced your lovely eyes?

THE WOMAN : It was.

IRMA : Was there at least a glimmer of repentance in her lovely eyes, my Lord?

THE BISHOP (standing up) : A fleeting glimmer. But was I seeking repentance in them? I saw there the greedy longing for transgression. In flooding it, evil all at once baptized it. Her big eyes opened on the abyss . . . a deathly pallor lit up—yes, Madame—lit up her face. But our holiness lies

Reviews for The Balcony

[jmx-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Genet manages to play magically with the real/unreal in the context of a brothel in the middle of a revolution. Suddenly the customers of the brothel play the roles of the real life judge, bishop, general and queen (killed in the revolution?), and the revolutionary comes to the brothel to achieve his fantasy of being an hero buried eternally in a mausoleum. The play ends with Irma, the owner of the brothel, addressing the audience and warning them that the live they live outside the theater is even more false than within.Read and re-read to fully enjoy! PS: the wikipedia article is comprehensive and helpful for understanding and appreciating the play

[flutterbyjitters · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

nah. too existential for me. and a bit too confusing with the double talk.

[jonfaith · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Would it perturb you to see things as they are? To gaze at the world tranquilly and accept responsibility for your gaze, whatever it might see?

I found this less Brecht and more Passolini. Revolution became chic at some point. This is about assuming roles in tumultuous times. I found the endearing aspect to be the role of the siren or chanteuse.

The pimp has a grin, never a smile

Much as Steven Godin asserted on GR today I think the experience would have been enhanced by viewing this staged. I don't feel that when I read Brecht or Beckett.