Martha

I've been avoiding Martha.

I was taught that reluctance to tackle a particular task/role can be very telling and that you should always challenge yourself to explore that which you would rather avoid. I've been timidly dipping my toes into a cold Lake Martha only to discover that I am frightened of empathizing with her too much. I've made judgments about her and am most reluctant to discover how those judgments might apply to me.

I find this somewhat curious since I've played murderers, whores, liars- a host of sinners- and had no trouble feeling for them. Martha sets me off. I want to shake her. She is like Godzilla, mindlessly stomping on other lives because she is unhappy in her own. As eager as I am to approach her from an intellectual standpoint, I am unwilling to admit to explore my own Godzilla tendencies. I've certainly done it. Repeatedly. Exploring Martha will give me the opportunity to forgive myself for past transgressions. Or not. It's the "or not" that frightens me.

This is how I know I am on the right track. Fear is my friend.

So, in wading into these waters I'd like to start at the shallow end- a way to bring Martha closer to me without scaring either of us off. Martha is an educated woman who is resigned to playing "wifey" to a college professor. I imagine some of her restlessness stems from this circumstance. With no concrete, consistent outlet for her intellect she engages in "pointless infidelities". But it isn't just restlessness. It's deeper. She clearly needs attention from her father and, being a woman and housewife, gets substantially less than required. She intended to bask in the reflected glory of her professor husband, but she is disappointed by what she perceives as his professional failings. George's failures are her failures. She pushes, pulls, cajoles, and nags to fight for her rightful place but all for naught. What she CAN do, however, is attract men. With each conquest she is simultaneously validated and destroyed. She is torn between her impulses and her deepest needs and unable to discern from moment to moment the actions necessary to reach a healthy, life affirming goal.

That is something I can reach within myself. I know about being an intelligent, capable woman trapped in the "wifey" role. I have certainly toyed with men in my life and then hated myself for it. I also know about pushing others to fulfill MY visions with out any regard to their own goals and definitions of success. What I need to do if discover my own threshold. What "as if" do I need to use to help me understand ACTING on these impulses? I've never cheated on anyone. My own sense of empathy forbids it. I need to understand how to make that decision... and make it repeatedly. I need to understand the depth of need in Martha that would cause her to lash out the way she does.

It is time for me to work on scoring text and making physical choices.

Notes on Martha

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf is destined to be one of those scripts I will need to wallow in.

Through my readings I have come to my usual position of Armchair Psychologist. My gut instinct is to "diagnose" Martha with Borderline Personality Disorder. Now, I would hesitate to make such a statement about a real, living person, but for the sake of pursuing a character I will make this judgement. Martha displays some classic characteristics of BPD. For the sake of expediency I will send you to this excellent post that validated my theory.

In addition to my multiple readings of the text, I have been searching for connections and others' ideas about this play. In the absence of a cast and table discussions I find reading others' opinions to be highly stimulating. Sometimes it is exciting to agree. In this particular case, I find myself in violent disagreement with some of the character studies I have found. Specifically, in regard to George. Most have found him to be weak-willed and spineless... in essence, the opinions I have read have validated Martha's worst opinions of George. On the contrary, I have found him to be principled (although not in the more traditional vein), calm and exceptionally compassionate. Granted, his compassion manifests itself in some fairly sick ways, but he does try to help everyone in the play. He tries to warn Nick, he feels true pity for Honey and he fights tooth and nail with Martha because he loves her. Love does not always have a healthy shine to it. In my various readings I keep thinking George is not unlike the Hollywood cliche of the boy who raises an orphaned animal and through an unfortunate set of circumstances finds himself deep in the forest chucking rocks at his beloved friend to force it to return to the wild- where it belongs. George lobs compassionate rocks at everyone in this tale. On the outside, this ineffectual cuckold is really a courageous lover.

Ah, but that is my tendency toward co-dependency speaking! Of course I relate to George! Of course I like him! Of course I skew toward seeing him as noble and kind! That's MY personal sickness speaking. As for Martha... she is going to be a huge challenge for me. I can get at the loud and vulgar part of her- that is well within my range. It is her extreme cruelty, her vindictiveness... see? It is the ultimate challenge for me to frame this behavior in the "actor positive", meaning that I need to put this behavior into non-judgmental language. If I am judging her behavior I will have difficulty justifying it for myself. After all, everything she does feels necessary to her survival. She needs to lash out, to bray, to punish, in order to save herself in some way.

A plan of attack is beginning to form and the specific text that I will use for my explorations is starting to rise to the surface.