Fool for Love, by Sam Shepard

FOOL FOR LOVE

By Sam Shepard

This play is to be performed relentlessly without a break.

Brace yourself for Sam Shepard.  His plays are crazy, physical, slightly confusing bundles of emotion.  From “Buried Child” which just finished an Off-Broadway run, to “Fool for Love,” which was recently on Broadway, and which we will be looking at today.

Like all Sam Shepard plays, physicality is one of the most, if not most important element of storytelling.  Do not cross out or ignore the stage directions.  You will be completely lost.

In the introduction to the Seven Plays collection by Batnam Books, Ross Wetzsteon gives “four ways in which his theatre has transformed the rigid categories of naturalism in order to achieve a kind of hyperrealism.”

1. Space is emotional rather than physical.
2. Tim is immediate rather than sequential.
3. Narrative is a matter of consciousness rather than behavior.
4. Character is spontaneous rather than coherent.

To me, it is easiest to think of a Sam Shepard play as a nightmare- stakes are incredibly high, everything seems incredibly read and immediate, and none of it quite makes sense.  But, it’s terrifying nonetheless.

Today we are looking at

MAY

When we first see May we see her on the bed “feet on floor, legs apart, elbows on knees, hands hanging limp and crossed between her knees, head hanging forward, face staring at floor.  She is absolutely still and maintains this attitude until she speaks.”

Her half-brother, her love, is back.  Again.  Her half-brother, who she didn’t know was her half-brother until they were way  too deeply in love.  Their dad fell in love with two women and split his life in half to have a life with both- he’d spend months with one, then leave without a trace to spend months with the other.  

Eddie,, the half-brother, takes after their dad.  He’s in love with May, he can’t help himself, but he leaves for months with other women, but always comes back to May.  This time he was off with “The Countess.”  He comes back to try to get May to run away with him.

But this time, she doesn’t fall for him.  She’s done.  Except it’s never that easy.  She can’t quite say no.  She says no multiple times, but the more he insists, the more she waivers.  She has an out this time though- a man, a date, named Marty, who’s coming over to take her to the movies.  When he shows up, and May leaves them alone together, Eddie insists on telling him a story- the story of their dad and his mom.  May overhears this, and finishes the story- telling how she and her mom tracked down the dad, and finally found him- it broke her mom’s heart.  But May didn’t even care- she was in love with Eddie.

This monologue comes from various points in the play, all before Martin enters.  May and Eddie play a constant game of cat and mouse, and we are never quite sure which one is which.

I don't understand my feelings. I really don't. I don't understand how I can hate you so much after so much time. How, no matter how much I'd like not to hate you, I hate you even more. It grows. I can't even see you now. All I see is a picture of you. You and her. I don't even know if the picture's real anymore. I don't even care. It's a made up picture. It invades my head. The two of you. And this picture stings even more than if I'd actually seen you with her. It cuts me. It cuts me so deep I'll never get over it. And I can't get rid of this picture either. It just comes. Uninvited. Kinda' like a little torture. And I blame you more for this little torture than I do for what you did.

You can't keep messing around like this. It's been going on too long. I can't take it anymore. I get sick every time you come around. Then I get sick when you leave. You're like a disease to me. Besides, you got no right being jealous of me after all the bullshit I've been through with you.

Okay. Look. I don't understand what you've got in your head anymore. I really don't. I don't get it. Now you desperately need me. Now you can't live without me. NOW you'll do anything for me. Why should I believe it this time?

It was supposed to have been true every time before. Every other time. Now it's true again. You've been jerking me off like this for fifteen years. Fifteen years I've been a yo-yo for you. I've never been split. I've never been two ways about you. I've either loved you or not loved you. And now I just plain don't love you. Understand? Do you understand that? I don't love you. I don't need you. I don't want you. Do you get that? Now if you can still stay, then you're either crazy or pathetic.