{"id":27848,"date":"2020-11-24T18:19:46","date_gmt":"2020-11-24T18:19:46","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/revistaidees.cat\/?p=27848"},"modified":"2021-01-15T13:58:39","modified_gmt":"2021-01-15T13:58:39","slug":"the-sheep-and-the-whale","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/revistaidees.cat\/en\/the-sheep-and-the-whale\/","title":{"rendered":"The Sheep and the Whale"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The Sheep and the Whale<\/em> was produced in 2001 at the Quat-sous theater in Montreal under the direction of Wajdi Mouawad and was published by Editions Th\u00e9\u00e2trales in Paris, and the Spanish translation in the magazine Primer Acto Cuadernos de Investigaci\u00f3n Teatral<\/em>. It has been translated into several languages and was subject of four more productions in Toronto, Montpellier, Brussels and Trier, and of numerous public staged readings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the middle of the Strait of Gibraltar, a Russian freighter collided with a boat of African stowaways. The sailors retrieve the bodies but neither Spain nor Morocco wants to receive them. Then began a long night of waiting and confrontation. Hassan and H\u00e9l\u00e8ne, a couple of tourists on board, find themselves in the middle of a tragedy which shakes up their marriage and make it appear as a reflection of the impossible relationship between the north and the south.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Translated by Bobby Theodore <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n


The Invasion of Europe<\/h5>\n\n\n\n

4 AM. The same setting. The Survivor is still unmoving in the middle of the bodies. H\u00e9l\u00e8ne enters, dragging a large black suitcase behind her. Suddenly, a body sits up amongst the dead. Terrified, she screams and backs away before realising it is Hassan.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, sitting in the middle of the pile of bodies<\/em>: I wanted see what it\u2019s like to be one of the dead. I lay down, closed my eyes and had a nightmare. Or was it a sweet dream? Every time I look at these faces, shivers go down my spine. I\u2019m afraid of seeing someone I know. You were in my dream too; you were so far away. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE, in tears<\/em>: I\u2019m sorry. I don\u2019t know what\u2019s happening to me. I don\u2019t want to see or hear anything anymore. I want to go home, that\u2019s all I want. I want to shut myself in my room, get in bed and try not think about what\u2019s happening!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Nothing\u2019s happening. This is a night like any other in the Straight. But I feel better here than on land. At least on this ship, we\u2019re equal: everyone is where they belong. I feel more real here, less stupid than in Paris.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: You\u2019re never going to set foot on land again!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: That\u2019s a choice and I can\u2019t choose. I don\u2019t know how. I\u2019ve tried. It\u2019s very uncomfortable to be sitting on the fence between two worlds. Roads don\u2019t go very far if there aren\u2019t any bridges to cross over rivers, seas or valleys. I am a bridge, and in times of war, bridges are the first things to get blown up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Survivor softly starts singing mourning songs again.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE, Covering her ears<\/em>: Why is it taking so long for them to come? We\u2019ve been waiting three hours. If only they could drop us off in Gibraltar. We\u2019re almost there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, after a bit<\/em>: We might be going to Tangiers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE, tries to hide her surprise<\/em>: Really? Tangiers?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, trying to be as neutral as possible<\/em>: The Captain said so. If the Moroccans don\u2019t come for the bodies, we\u2019ll put into port at Tangiers and bring them in ourselves. Beat. We talked about visiting Morocco for so long and now\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: It\u2019s not my fault!!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: That\u2019s not what I\u2019m saying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: It bothered you so much when we talked about going to Morocco, I started avoiding the subject.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: You\u2019re right, it was hard for me. Do you know why? Have you ever tried to understand?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: You never wanted to talk about it. You never said anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: The truth is you were never interested in knowing about who I am or where I come from. Have you ever thought about how the language we speak isn\u2019t my language at all?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: I\u2019ve asked you lots of questions about your culture. I even started taking an Arabic course. You\u2019re the one who discouraged me; you never wanted to speak Arabic to me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: I thought a tango class would be more fun. But that\u2019s not what this is about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Then what is it about? You can\u2019t even talk about it. How do you expect me to guess what you\u2019re determined to keep buried? Deep down you never thought I was good enough. You just see me as someone from the West, a Christian, an infidel, a French slut. So go! Go home! You\u2019ve always been a stowaway, just like them!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, beside himself<\/em>: \u0645\u0627 \u062d\u0627\u0633 \u0628\u0627\u0644\u0645\u0632\u0648\u062f \u063a\u064a\u0631 \u0627\u0644\u0645\u062e\u0628\u0648\u0637 \u0628\u064a\u0647! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: What are you saying?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, furious<\/em>: \u0639\u0644\u0627\u0634 \u0623\u0646\u0627 \u0644\u064a \u062f\u0627\u064a\u0645\u0627 \u0643\u0646\u0636\u062d\u064a\u061f \u0639\u0644\u0627\u0634 \u062d\u062a\u0649 \u0627\u0646\u062a \u0645\u0627 \u062f\u064a\u0631\u064a\u0634 \u0645\u062c\u0647\u0648\u062f\u061f<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: I don\u2019t understand. You\u2019re speaking Arabic!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hassan realises he\u2019s speaking Arabic. He is stunned. Pause. The Survivor begins to sing a mourning song. Won over by the sweet melody, Hassan joins the Survivor in the song.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: It started yesterday. I caught myself humming Moroccan songs. Then words started slipping off my tongue like pieces of wood coming off a wreck at the murky bottom of the ocean and rose up slowly, floating on the surface.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Oh, Hassan. Hassan. I\u2019ve never been able to say your name the way you like. I\u2019ve never been able to say that Arab H that comes from the depths of your bowels. I tried when you weren\u2019t home. I practised so when you came in the door I could put my arms around you and call you by your name, the way your mother would have. Oh, that mysterious H, so hot, so deep\u2026sing it for me again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, lets the sound of the letter out: \u062d! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: You said that the most beautiful words in Arabic, the most sensual, all begin with the letter H. You taught me some.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hassan begins to say some words in Arabic that begin with the letter H. He says them softly, putting a slight accent on the H the way someone who get pleasure from words would.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u064a\u0627\u0629<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Life<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u0628<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u0633<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Feeling<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u0646\u0627\u0646<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Affection<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u0646\u064a\u0646<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Homesick.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u0644\u0645<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Dream<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: You still remember!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Yes, I remember, I\u2019ll always remember.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While they say the words, they move closer.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u0631\u0627\u0631\u0629<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Warmth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u0631\u064a\u0645<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Harem.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, they hold each other<\/em>: \u062d\u0636\u0646<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Embrace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, falling to his knees, burying his head in her breasts<\/em>: \u062d\u0644\u064a\u0628<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Milk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN, pressing his face against her belly<\/em>: \u062d\u0627\u0645\u0644<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Pregnant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She falls to the ground, wrapping her legs around him.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u064a\u0636<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Menstruation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: \u062d\u0648\u062a<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: I don\u2019t know that one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: I never thought of saying it to you before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: What is it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Whale, it means: whale. We hear a whale singing. Pause.<\/em> There are some other things I\u2019ve never told you. I\u2019d like you to know them now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: All right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: I entered France illegally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: What?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Twelve years ago, I entered France illegally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: You told me you had a scholarship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: I lied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: You snuck across the Straight?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Yes. Points to the bodies.<\/em> On a boat, like them. But, there was no storm that night. The moon was full and flooded the Straight. It was a magical night. My wedding night with Europe. When I saw the lights of Gibraltar get closer, I thought about one thing: How my ancestors, full of dreams, walked upon European soil thirteen centuries ago. Like them, I wanted Europe more than anything in the world. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE, in shock<\/em>: Why didn\u2019t you tell me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: There are lots of things you don\u2019t know. Beat<\/em>. Jamila and Yilmaz, you know, our best friends, the Kurds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Same thing. Illegal. All the way from Iraq.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: With their baby?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Yes. She was barely a year old. Beat<\/em>. And Benjamin, our friend from Senegal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE, dreading what she\u2019s about to hea<\/em>r: What.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: A freighter like this one, in a container like those. Dakar to the Hague. And there\u2019s Sa\u00efd from Mauritius. Crossed the Sahara on a camel all the way to Morocco. Then took a boat from Tangiers, like me. Pointing to the bodies<\/em>. Like them. Yasmina, the Iranian\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Fake Greek passport. Her parents sold their house to pay for it. It was either that or she was going have her head cut off by fundamentalists. Farid from Tunisia– on a freighter. Tunis to Naples. Crossed the Franco-Italian border on foot. Antonio from Bolivia– a fake marriage to a Saint Denis prostitute. Wang from Vietnam\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Why didn\u2019t anyone tell me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Because\u2026we want to forget. We wanted to believe we were important and were asked to come. We believed in this Europe. The world had to be rebuilt and Europe was the only place where we could rebuild ideas and thought; a much needed laboratory to experiment in. So we met in Paris. We were the ambassadors of our cultures and we were going to take part in the rebuilding. Europe, centre of the universe, France, centre of Europe. We believed. It\u2019s stupid, I know, now that I think about it. But we really believed. Coming back down to earth, Hassan looks at the bodies. I thought I could slip through without being noticed. I thought I could close my eyes and face North, listen to my Walkman full blast, clench my teeth and wait for it to be over. I told myself, \u201cIt only takes a few minutes to cross the straight.\u201d But now I know you can\u2019t escape destiny. And no matter how furious you are with destiny, don\u2019t forget you brought me here. Remember, we were supposed to fly to Paris but you forced me to board this ship. Tangiers was calling and you heard it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pause. The Survivor starts to sing mourning songs again. H\u00e9l\u00e8ne lets herself be rocked gently by the melody.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: For some reason I\u2019m thinking about another life. And I\u2019m scared. For the first time, I\u2019m remembering mass from when I was younger. I\u2019m thinking about death. I saw my body, lying on a wooden bed in a cave deep in a forgotten mountain. I\u2019m thinking about all those old people who talk to their dogs, about my colleagues at the office preparing for retirement at thirty, all those young people who join cults or end their lives in the bloom of their youth. I felt contempt for them. And now, I understand. I want to talk to them and ask for forgiveness. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: We were dreaming H\u00e9l\u00e8ne! About the world. Without ever daring to look at it! Beat<\/em>. You haven\u2019t gone near the bodies. You look at them as if they don\u2019t affect you. That\u2019s my life, our life. Come sit next to me, next to them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Please, stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He grabs her and drags her to towards the bodies.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: If they were beached whales or seals, you\u2019d have taken pictures. You would have caressed them tenderly. Get closer!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Let me go!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But he drags her over to the bodies and forces her to her knees.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Look! It\u2019s the museum of humanity. Look at this one; he\u2019s a Berber. I can tell from the colour of his eyes. This one is an Arab. Here! A black African, and guess how I know, because they have blacks in North Africa too. Of course, he\u2019s the only one who isn\u2019t circumcised. Closer! Don\u2019t worry, they aren\u2019t rotting yet. Salted as they are, they\u2019ll stay preserved. Look! This one is older. I bet he\u2019s a highlander from Atlas. Look at his strong legs. Touch his hands; they\u2019re worn. He worked very hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Let me go!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: I have a surprise for you. You said it yourself, \u201cI came here to share and see\u201d. Now you\u2019ll get what you\u2019ve been asking for.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He picks up one of the bodies, sits it in front of him and undresses it above the waist.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: A woman!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Disguised herself so they\u2019d let her come. All this for the good life. If only she knew! If only they all knew what I know about Europe. It\u2019s too late? They\u2019re already dead? Then how about the living? Let\u2019s find the ones who are still alive!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He drags her towards the containers.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: Let me go!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: He speaks to the stowaways, presumably in the containers.<\/em> Brothers! I\u2019d like to introduce H\u00e9l\u00e8ne. She\u2019s from Paris. She\u2019d like to welcome all of you to France. They\u2019re here. You don\u2019t see them but they see you. There in the dark, through the holes and cracks. They\u2019ve been spying on you. They know everything about you. Everything you say, do, think, dream. You want to see? Loudly to the stowaways in the containers.<\/em> Where\u2019s she from?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We hear stowaways off-stage yelling and shouting like at a sporting event.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

STOWAWAYS OFF-STAGE: Paris! Paris!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Her favourite colours?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

STOWAWAYS OFF-STAGE: Red and Black!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Her perfume?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

STOWAWAYS OFF-STAGE: Chanel Number 5!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He drags her into a passageway between the containers. He is trying to have sex with her. At first she resists then she lets him have his way.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Can you smell Africa? You\u2019ve never been but you\u2019ve taken the metro hundreds of times. You\u2019ve probably been stuck with a bunch of Arabs or blacks at rush hour. You must have smelled the heat, the odour. That\u2019s Africa. Or do you remember the African restaurants we ate at? You said, \u201cI love that smell, it takes me someplace, it moves me, it\u2019s mystical,\u201d and you said, \u201cTake me to Africa! Make love to me in the desert, in a tent, on a sheepskin, under a palm tree, in between the dunes.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

They come together. H\u00e9l\u00e8ne screams loudly right up until her orgasm. Just as she finishes screaming we hear the sound of someone pissing in one of the containers next to them. Pause.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: What about our dreams now? What\u2019s going to happen to us?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HELENE: I want to go home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: They\u2019ll be in Marseilles before you. They\u2019ll be crammed into the stairs and the hallway. And when you get inside and triple lock your door, guess what\u2019s going to happen when you open your suitcase? A stowaway is going to jump out!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He barely pronounces the word suitcase when an almost naked black African jumps out of Helene\u2019s suitcase. H\u00e9l\u00e8ne screams and backs away. The African starts dancing and plays the bongo attached to his belt. At the same time, shadows emerge from the containers, slip in through the darkness and appear suddenly on the deck. They are stowaways who join the dance. Other stowaways emerge from the water, dripping wet and bloody. They climb over the railing and jump on deck. They close in on H\u00e9l\u00e8ne, encircle her and start singing and dancing.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HASSAN: Millions of stowaways are going to flock to Europe! They\u2019ll come from the East and South. Blacks, Arabs, Algerians, Armenians, Bohemians, Brazilians, Chileans, Cambodians, Ethiopians, Egyptians, Haitians, Russians, Persians, Peruvians, Romanians, Paraguayans, Uruguayans, Kenyans, Nigerians, Albanians, Cameroonians, Cubans, Angolans, Mexicans, Jamaicans, Moroccans, Vietnamese, Burmese, Iraqis, Gabonese, Sudanese, Lebanese, Togolese, Congolese, Chinese, Beninese, Tartars, Turks, Kurds, Moors, Centaurs, Hungarians, Bulgarians, Catharians, and all the barbarians! They\u2019ll come by air, sea, land, desert; they\u2019ll dig tunnels, crawl through sewers, and drop from airplane wings! Every tourist returning to Europe will carry one home in their suitcases! Hysterical and wandering amongst the Stowaways.<\/em> Soon this Straight will be full of dead bodies rushing through the waters! A mountain of bodies will surface between Tangiers and Gibraltar. We\u2019ll be able to walk on top of the dead and cross the Straight in two hours! He walks on top of the bodies while speaking. As he does so, they suddenly come to life, rising like a mountain out of water. Hassan finds himself lifted above their heads. Hands in the air, he screams. <\/em> Europe will be invaded!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Other stowaways emerge. H\u00e9l\u00e8ne is in the middle, they sing and dance around her. Everyone harasses her, pulls on her clothing, tearing off pieces. Hassan mixes into the crowd. Hysterical, he dances to all the different kinds of music and enters into a trance. H\u00e9l\u00e8ne shocked, overwhelmed, tries feebly to protect herself against all the invasive hands. She screams in terror. The circle grows tighter around her. She falls, screams one last time like someone falling into an abyss. The circle closes in on her.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Blackout<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\t\t\t\t

Literary Exhibit<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t