Farther and Farther On

Here, everything begins.

Everything begins here.

However, let’s go farther.

Here, no one will ask who you are and where you’re from.

Everything is clear as is.

This is the place where you’re spared persistent cross-examination.

But let’s go farther.

Here, the atmosphere is congenial and free.

Here is where you can really relax.

But we should go farther.

Here, whatever your eyes see is delightful, whatever your ears hear

is sweet melody, whatever is said is truth.

But let’s go farther.

Here, everything is entirely different.

It’s not important how.

What’s important is that it’s different.

Here, nothing matters.

I only wish I could remember this forever.

Here, the sharpest bout of nostalgia grips you.

How it comes about is unknown.

Here, one shouldn’t stay for too long. Later it will probably become

clear why.

Here each has his own floor and ceiling.

Each has her own borders of falling and soaring.

And not just here.

Here, everything reminds you of something, points to something,

refers to something.

But as soon as you start to understand what’s what, it’s time to leave.

Here it’s necessary to cope with the temptation to ask what will be

farther on. But farther on, what’s meant to be will be.

Here it’s written: “Passerby: Stop. Think.”

The next inscription reads: “Passerby: Stop. Try to think of something

better than that.”

Here we read: “Passerby: Sooner or later—well, you understand… So

then—now you understand.”

Here it’s written: “Passerby: Consider this—you might end up

understanding nothing at all.”

Here: “Passerby: We never even knew each other. What should we talk

about?”

And here: “Passerby: Don’t stop. Go farther.”

Let’s go farther.

Here someone in the half-darkness decides to part with hope and

cannot;

Someone, finding himself in financial difficulty, looks for a way out and

cannot find one;

Someone tries to draw a distinct line between what is past and what is

to come. He just isn’t noticed;

Someone worked it out so that everything he says fits the situation.

People like this. He is noticed;

Here someone over-attentive doesn’t notice the most important thing.

Concentrating on tiny details, he looks a little silly;

Someone striving for eternity slips and falls. A bright light falls on

him. It’s quite a pitiful sight;

Someone is unable to come to his senses from some dumbfounding

news. So he just goes on living, stunned;

Someone loses himself in the crowd. They discover him, greet him

noisily, almost by force drag him out to the middle. And there he stands;

Here someone with a frozen glance goes on and on, saying something

completely inarticulate, then leaves, comes back, leaves again, and so

on many times;

Someone with inveterate habits helps a lady into a train car and waves

after her for a long time. His face shows affection;

Someone remains alone. He’s totally confused. He has absolutely no

idea what to do. His face shows the whole gamut of emotions;

Someone, doubting, wants very much to ask something, but can’t

bring himself to do it. An embarrassed smile;

Here someone in a quiet voice offers words of consolation;

Someone, inconsolable, does not accept the words of consolation. He

says that he doesn’t want anything from anyone;

Someone, burdened by the need to impart something extremely

unpleasant to someone, delays his decision. It’s easy to understand

him;

Someone, considering it improper to get mixed up in others’ affairs,

constantly gets himself mixed up in them without so much as

noticing;

Here someone, caught on the fishing hook of existence, cries about

his fate and doesn’t suspect anything;

Someone in a half-stifled voice talks about how happy he is. Everyone

exchanges secret glances;

Someone begins talking about the distant past. It’s useless to

interrupt him;

Someone unsuccessfully tries to explain something to someone. Lack

of understanding makes him crazy;

Here someone is depressed with what’s happening. An attempt to find

out what exactly depresses him leads to nothing. One feels sorry for

him;

Someone consoles himself by waiting for something different. His

path is despondent. Does he know this?

Someone doesn’t see or hear his very self. He really should: he would

begin to look at many things differently;

Here someone is unable to resist inertia. This does not bode well;

Someone is absolutely unable to control himself. That won’t do at all;

Someone refuses to notice the obvious. He’s probably doomed;

Someone looks straight ahead. His eyes are frozen in terror. He’s not

likely to be saved;

Someone is strolling God knows where. You can still make him out.

There he is;

Here someone is trying to save himself without any help. He’ll never

make it;

Someone is trying as best he can to appear like an outsider. But he

won’t escape either.

Someone is focusing on the present with all his might. But he, too, will

have to face the future;

Someone’s on the threshold of a final decision. Let’s wait and see what

will happen;

Here someone literally withers without constant encouragement. Well,

then let’s support him;

Someone thinks it’s inconceivable that all of this will end sometime.

Lord, give him strength!

Someone has said something and now waits for what will come next.

And what could be next?

Let’s go farther.

Here it’s said: “All those craving and lusting, those fighting in vain and

those scrambling out of the filth, those half-deaf and those forever

hoarse—well, what are we to do with them?”

Here it’s said: “All those striving higher, those sliding into the abyss,

those climbing on and out, those hurting and those living through

uncontrollable passions, those accustomed to everything, those

interesting in their own way—what do they want here? Why should

they be here?”

Here it’s said: “All those guilty without sin, once bitten and now shy,

those intently pondering and those attracted by a barely-audible voice

of eternity, those stooped from the backbreaking puzzles of existence,

those in undue agitation from God knows what news, those anxiously

listening to what is said—where do they find themselves heading?”

Here it’s said: “All those not guilty but confessing, those seemingly

cheered up but every other minute falling into depression, those

striving to beat their neighbor in grasping what’s going on, but not

understanding a thing, those dragging the baggage of their own hopes

and those affirming that everything is lost, all those now too late, and

now too early, those swaying in the weak breeze and those stubborn

in their own delusions, those thinking that everything is passed, and

those shifting from leg to leg waiting for changes—that’s enough

already—it’s time to stop.”

An entirely different voice: “After that he was a changed person. He

would just walk around quiet and graceful, smiling at something…”

Another voice: “Well, that’s it, now it’ll begin. Just be quiet and don’t

get mixed up in this…”

Another voice: “Well just imagine, with that smile of his he just walked

through all this hell. He’s a very unique human being. I’ve never seen

anyone like him in my entire life…”

Another voice: “By the way, he also can’t stand her. So you really

shouldn’t…”

Another voice: “You’re not bothering me at all, I assure you. Let me

just put a full stop here.”

Another voice: “‘The modest tread of clouds is obtuse…’. What’s after

this? Can you remember? Yes… it was so long ago…”

Another voice: “Take a close look sometime at his usual facial

expressions, at those forced grins. Listen to those pitiful words.

Perhaps you’ll understand then what I went through all those years…”

Another voice: “Here comes the most difficult part. Hold on,

professor…There… You didn’t hurt yourself? Well thank God. Well,

then, where was I? Oh yes, that very summer had been accursedly

hot, dusty, drought-ridden. In a word, a hellish summer. Not a summer,

but a simmer, forgive the pun… So… And I’ve managed to hurt myself

now…”

Another voice: “Listen, your satanic fantasies give me the creeps. To

listen to you, one would think that there’s no reason to live…”

Another voice: “If you want, you can accompany me. Well, at least as

far as the station. I trust you’re something of a gentleman?”

Another voice: “To start with, just look at yourself. Hey, you really

look like hell…”

Another voice: “Listen up. First, you’re not going anywhere, you’ll take

your coat off and return to the table. Second, don’t let me catch any

of those so-called ‘yearnings’ in your face. Third, anyone who dares,

in your presence, to even slightly hint—well, you know—will have to

deal with me. You’re all right with that, I hope?

Well, go ahead and take your coat off! Don’t be naughty, old man!…”

Another voice: “So where can I go now? I’ve been kicked out

everywhere. I’ve been nagged everywhere… Should I just hang

myself?”

Another voice: “So what now? What can I do? There’s no way back—

it’s clear. Stay where I am? Well, no, that’s not for me. Should I go and

face my fate? Okay, then, I’m ready. (To the audience.) And why are

you silent? Why aren’t you stopping me? Or consoling me? Surely one

human word can sometimes save you from ruin. But what am I talking

about? Whom am I speaking to? Farewell…”

Scene: The dacha at night. The trains sound their horns, husky in the

distance. It’s very cold.

Another scene: The height of summer. Offstage—the songs of village

girls.

Another scene: A table, set for tea. A samovar, ring-shaped rolls. On

the backs of armchairs, quilts and coats carelessly tossed. A general

air of light-heartedness.

Another scene: A dining room in a modest house. Through heavy

blinds, a muted light. Vases of all shapes and sizes filled with flowers.

The heroine rushes in, her palms pressed to her temples.

Almost unconscious, she falls into the rocking chair. Sobbing.

Another scene: A veranda, fragrant with flowers of fruit trees. Two

swings. One swing lightly rocks: it’s clear that someone just got off it.

Offstage, voices: an agitated female one, a calming male one. No one

has appeared on stage yet. Sounds of nearing thunder. It suddenly

darkens.

An entirely different scene: From the arrangement of the scene

it’s clear that the weather since morning has been excellent, and

yesterday’s gusty wind has died away, carrying away the torn

fragments of a continuously hopeless gloom.

From the lighting of the scene it’s clear that the mood of the hero,

whose steps are already audible behind the stage, is pure, light and a

little sad, like in the best days of one’s youth.

It’s clear by the sudden silence that maybe the most decisive moment

in the hero’s life is coming.

However, a noise born in the bowels of absolute silence grows

imperceptibly. It grows ever louder, until it gradually becomes

intolerable.

(Curtain.)

Copyright Credit: Lev Rubinstein, "Farther and Farther On" from Compleat Catalogue of Comedic Novelties. Copyright © 2014 by Lev Rubinstein. Reprinted by permission of Philip Metres & Tatiana Tulchinsky.

Source: Compleat Catalogue of Comedic Novelties (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2014)