Monologo - Persona

MINUTAGGIO: 1:09:00

RUOLO: Alma

ATTRICE: Bibi Andersson

DOVE: Amazon Prime Video

INGLESE

What are you hiding under your hand? Let me see. It's the photo of your little boy. The one you tore up. We must talk about it. Tell me about it, Elisabet. Then I will. lt was one night at a party, isn't that right? It got late and quite rowdy. Towards morning someone in the group said: "Elisabet, you virtually have it all in your armoury as woman and artist. But you lack motherliness." You laughed because you thought it sounded silly. But after a while you noticed you thought about what he'd said. You became more and more worried. You let your husband impregnate you. You wanted to be a mother. When you realized it was definite, you became frightened. Frightened of responsibility, of being tied down, of leaving the theatre. Frightened of your body swelling up. But you played the role. The role of a happy, young, expectant mother. Everyone said, "Isn't she beautiful? She's never been so beautiful." Meanwhile you tried to abort the foetus several times. But you failed. When you saw it was irreversible... you started to hate the baby. And you wished it would be stillborn. You wished the baby would be dead. You wished for a dead baby. The delivery was difficult and long. You were in agony for days. Finally the baby was delivered with forceps. You looked with disgust and terror at your squealing baby and whispered: "Can't you die soon? Can't you die?" The boy screamed day and night. And you hated him. You were scared, you had a bad conscience. Finally the boy was taken care of by relatives and a nanny. You could get up from your sickbed and return to the theatre. But the suffering wasn't over. The boy was gripped by a massive and unfathomable love for his mother. You defend yourself in despair. You feel you can't return it. So you try, and you try... But there are only cruel and clumsy meetings between you. You can't do it. You're cold and indifferent. He looks at you. He loves you and he's so gentle. You want to hit him because he doesn't leave you alone. You think he's disgusting with his thick mouth and ugly body. His moist and pleading eyes. He's disgusting and you are scared. No! I'm not like you. I don't feel like you. I'm Sister Alma, I'm just here to help you. I'm not Elisabet Vogler. You are Elisabet Vogler. I would like to have… I love… I haven't… I've learnt quite a lot. We'll see how long I hold out. I'll never be like you, never. I change all the time. You can do what you like, you won't get to me anyhow. Saying doesn't help. Cut a candle. A kind of otherness. Not now, no. No, no. Warning and out of time. Unforeseen. When it was supposed to occur, it didn't occur and so failure. Yourself where you are. But I should do it. Not inwards, no… Say collect and advise others… The disconsolate, perhaps… Take, yes... but what is closest...? What's it called...? No, no, no… Us, we, me, I… Many words and such nausea… Incomprehensible pain. The throw… Try and listen to me now. Repeat after me. Nothing… Nothing. No, nothing… Nothing. That's it. That's good. That's how it should be.'

ITALIANO

Cosa hai li? Cosa nascondi con quella mano? Fammi vedere. E’ la fotografia del tuo bambino? Quella che hai fatto a pezzi? Dobbiamo parlarne ora. Raccontami Elizabet. Allora va bene allora lo farò io. Accadde una sera a una festa, vero? Vi era frastuono e confusione… verso le prime ore del mattino qualcuno della compagnia disse: ”Elizabet, il tuo campionario ora è quasi completo, come artista e come donna, ma ti manca la maternità”. Tu ridesti, perché la cosa ti sembrò ridicola. Ma poi ti accorgesti che quelle parole ti ossessionavano. La tua inquietudine aumentò finchè ti decidesti ad avere un figlio. Volevi essere madre, però quando rimanesti incinta ne avesti paura. Paura delle responsabilità, paura di legarti a qualcuno, paura di morire, paura del dolore, paura di abbandonare il teatro, paura del tuo corpo deformato. Eppure continuasti la parte… la parte della madre felice in attesa di un figlio. Tutti dicevano:”Com'è bella ora, non è mai stata tanto bella”. Di nascosto cercasti di interrompere la tua maternità… ma senza riuscirci. Quando capisti che erano inevitabile, cominciasti a odiare il bambino e a desiderare che egli nascesse morto. Tu desiderasti di avere un figlio morto. Volevi un figlio morto, capisci? Il parto fu difficile e assai lungo, soffristi per molti giorni. Infine dovettero usare il forcipe. Guardasti con disgusto e terrore quel tuo figlio rattrappito che strillava e sussurrasti: "Perché non muori subito? Perché non muori?" Ma sopravvisse e strillava notte giorno e tu lo odiavi sempre. Avevi paura perché avevi la coscienza sporca. Alla fine i parenti e un infermiera si presero cura di tuo figlio e tu potesti lasciare la clinica e ritornare al teatro… ma le sofferenze non erano terminate: tuo figlio fu preso da un immenso quanto incomprensibile amore per te e tu invece lo respingi disperatamente, perché non sai ricambiare il suo amore. Eppure ci provi, ci tenti, ma tutto si limita a dei rapporti goffi e crudeli fra te e tuo figlio. Non ci riesci, rimani fredda e indifferente… ed egli ti ammira, ti guarda con tanta dolcezza e ti ama mentre tu vorresti che ti lasciasse in pace. Ti disgusta con quel suo corpo goffo e quelle labbra tumide e quei suoi occhi umidi e imploranti.Ti dà ancora disgusto e hai paura. NO. Io non sono come te… non ho i tuoi sentimenti… sono l'infermiera, Alma e sono qui per aiutarti. Non sono Elisebeth Vogler. Tu sei Elisebeth Vogler.