HI.
IT’S SHANNON.
Classics, here we go! I really enjoy doing the not-done-as-often pieces by well-known ladies, and (as I’m sure you’ve noticed) piecing together monologues from scenes. This is not an example of the latter, but it is an example of the first. Because this week we’re gonna do
MISS JULIE
by August Strindberg
Strindberg wrote a lot of plays, most of them pretty dark and a lot of them pretty weird. This play is one of his most naturalistic, but even it gets so heightened at times that you can’t help but wish a director on it who won’t go the realistic route. This monologue is actually a pretty good example of a moment that could be taken far out of the literal, and I hope one day to work on a production of this play that does just that.
The play is about Miss Julie’s fall -- from the height of aristocracy and privilege to the lowness of a ‘whore’. She begins the play as the daughter of a Count, who has just been rejected by her fiance because her mother was a commoner (who probably burned the house down for insurance money and cheated on her father before she died). The Count and the rest of the aristocracy in the household have gone off to the country home, and Miss Julie is left to her own devices -- including joining the servants in their Midsummer’s Eve dance. The play begins when Jean, the family’s footman, comes into his quarters from the party where he’s been dancing with (Miss) Julie to see Kristin, his fiancee and a cook in the household. Julie follows him into the room, demanding he dance with her, and though he is careful to never put a toe out of line and constantly asks her to be wary because “people will talk”, Julie slowly gets closer and closer to him -- asking him to leave with her, helping him get dust out of his eye, etc -- until finally they escape into his bedroom to avoid a crowd of the servants who come into the room from the dance, jeering at Miss Julie’s fall. End Scene One. Scene Two begins as the servant party leaves, and Julie and Jean reenter the room, mussed from (never explicitly stated) sex. Jean describes a plan to leave the country and start a hotel in Switzerland together, but balks when he realizes Julie has no capital of her own. Julie might be pregnant, so there’s no keeping it a secret. The Count returns, and Julie and Jean decide that Julie must kill herself rather than bear the embarrassment of a ruined reputation.
Juuuust chipper.
We’re obviously focused on
MISS JULIE
In this monologue, which takes place in the initial, seduction stage of the play -- Julie is using everything in her artillery to convince Jean to take a chance and sleep with her, to ruin her reputation. Kristin, Jean’s fiancee and a cook in the house, is present and asleep in the corner.
JULIE: Strange? Yes, but so are you. Anyway, everything is strange. Life, human beings, everything is a mess that’s floating, floating across the water until it sinks, sinks. I have a recurring dream from time to time: I’m on top of a pillar. I’m just sitting there, and I see no possible way of getting down. I feel dizzy when I look down, but I know I must get down. I don’t have the courage to throw myself. I can’t hold on. I long to be able to just fall, but I don’t fall. I know that I will have no peace until I’m down; no rest until I’m down, down to the ground. I also know that when I am down I will want the ground to open up and for me to just sink… sink. Have you ever felt anything like that?
Much Symbolism.
Very Metaphor.
Thanks again for reading! Best of luck with this amazing classical woman and as always, if you end up taking her on please read the play and post a video of you doing the monologue! We’d love to hear from you!
Once again, this has been
SOMEONE MONO-BLOGGING
and
I’M SHANNON.
ENJOY!
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