At Home at the Zoo Read online

  ALSO BY EDWARD ALBEE

  The Zoo Story

  The Death of Bessie Smith

  The Sandbox

  The American Dream

  Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

  The Ballad of the Sad Cafe

  Tiny Alice

  Malcolm

  A Delicate Balance

  Everything in the Garden

  Box and Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-Tung

  All Over

  Seascape

  Listening

  Counting the Ways

  The Lady from Dubuque

  Lolita

  The Man Who Had Three Arms

  Finding the Sun

  Marriage Play

  Three Tall Women

  Fragments (A Sit-Around)

  The Play About the Baby

  The Goat or, Who is Sylvia?

  Occupant

  Me, Myself & I

  CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that performance of either of the Plays in the volume AT HOME AT THE ZOO is subject to payment of a royalty. The Plays are fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International Copyright union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright Convention, the Universal Copyright Convention, the Berne Convention, and of all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including without limitation professional/amateur stage rights, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound recording, all other forms of mechanical, electronic and digital reproduction, transmission and distribution, such as CD, DVD, the Internet, private and file-sharing networks, information storage and retrieval systems, photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages are strictly reserved. Particular emphasis is placed upon the matter of readings, permission for which must be secured from the Author’s agent in writing.

  The English language amateur stage performance rights in the United States, its territories, possessions and Canada for the Play is controlled exclusively by DRAMATISTS PLAY SERVICE, INC., 440 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10016. No nonprofessional performance of the Play or either of its acts may be given without obtaining in advance the written permission of DRAMATISTS PLAY SERVICE, INC., and paying the requisite fee.

  The English language stock and regional theatre stage performance rights in the United States, its territories, possessions and Canada and the English language amateur stage performance rights in for the Play in the British Commonwealth of Nations (excluding Canada), Ireland, and South Africa are controlled exclusively by Samuel French, Inc, 45 West 25th Street, New York, NY 10010. No stock or regional performance or nonprofessional performance, in the aforesaid countries, of the Play or either of its acts may be given without obtaining in advance the written permission of Samuel French, Inc., and paying the requisite fee.

  Inquiries concerning all other rights should be addressed to William Morris Endeavor Entertainment, LLC, 1325 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10019. Attn: Jonathan Lomma.

  Copyright

  This edition first published in the United States

  and the United Kingdom in 2011 by Overlook Duckworth

  NEW YORK:

  The Overlook Press

  Peter Mayer Publishers, Inc.

  141 Wooster Street

  New York, NY 10012

  www.overlookpress.com

  For bulk and special sales, please contact [email protected]

  LONDON:

  Gerald Duckworth & Co. Ltd.

  Greenhill House

  30 Calvin Street

  London E1 6NW

  www.ducknet.co.uk

  [email protected]

  Copyright © 2008 by Edward Albee

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.

  ISBN 978-1-46830-749-8

  Contents

  Also by Edward Albee

  Copyright

  How the Zoo Story Became a Two-act Play

  Act One Homelife

  Act Two The Zoo Story

  How The Zoo Story

  Became a Two-Act Play

  How did The Zoo Story become a two-act play? It’s really very simple: it always had been; I just hadn’t told myself. When I wrote The Zoo Story in 1958 it was my first play, so to speak. Oh, I’d made a few attempts—including an embarrassing two-act play in rhymed couplets—but nothing pleased me. No, I must be fair—it was junk, all of it.

  The Zoo Story seemed to me to be a much better piece—in fact, the first I felt had any individuality and merit. It would seem I was right. It has gone on to have—at this writing—49 years of frequent performance and general acceptance.

  And … I thought it was fine, though it nagged me just a bit that it seemed to be not quite a two-character play—Jerry being so much longer a role—but more a one-and-a-half-character one. But the play “worked,” so why worry?

  Six years ago, however, I said to myself, “There’s a first act here somewhere which will flesh out Peter fully and make the subsequent balance better.”

  Almost before I knew it, Homelife fell from my mind to the page … intact. There was the Peter I had always known—a full three-dimensional person and—wow!—here was Ann, his wife, whom I must have imagined deep down, forty-some years ago, but hadn’t brought to consciousness.

  So … here it is—the entire play as I’m sure I must have conceived it all that time past. Enjoy.

  —EDWARD ALBEE

  New York City, 2007

  AT HOME AT THE ZOO received its world premiere by Hartford Stage Company (Michael Wilson, Artistic Director; Chris Baker, Associate Artistic Director; James D. Ireland, Managing Director), opening on June 6, 2004. It was directed by Pam MacKinnon; the set design was by Jeff Cowie; the costume design was by Jess Goldstein; the lighting design was by Howell Binkley; the assistant director was Kanthe Tabor; the assistant lighting designer was Rob White; the production stage manager was Carmelita Becnel; the assistant stage manager was Melissa Spengler; and the production manager was Deb Vandergrift. The cast was as follows:

  ANN Johanna Day

  PETER Frank Wood

  JERRY Frederick Weller

  AT HOME AT THE ZOO was produced by Second Stage Theatre (Carole Rothman, Artistic Director; Ellen Richard, Executive Director; Christopher Burney, Associate Artistic Director) in New York City, opening on November 11, 2007. It was directed by Pam MacKinnon; the set design was by Neil Patel; the costume design was by Theresa Squire; the lighting design was by Kevin Adams; the assistant set designer was Lara Fabian; the assistant costume designer was Jessica Wegener; the production stage manager was C.A. Clark; the stage manager was Annette Verga-Lagier; and the production manager was Jeff Wild. The cast was as follows:

  ANN Johanna Day

  PETER Bill Pullman

  JERRY Dallas Roberts

  ACT ONE—HOMELIFE

  CHARACTERS

  PETER: 45. Bland; not heavy; pleasant, if uninteresting looking. Tidy; circumspect. Wears glasses to read.

  ANN: 38; his wife. Tall, a bit angular; pleasant-looking, unexceptional.

  PLACE

  Their living room; New York City, East Side, Seventies. Pleasant; a little Danish-modernish, maybe. Exit to the apartment off hallway stage-ri
ght. Exit to kitchen off hallway stage-left-ish.

  TIME

  One P.M. A Sunday.

  ACT TWO—THE ZOO STORY

  CHARACTERS

  PETER: As above.

  JERRY: Late thirties; not poorly dressed, but carelessly. What was once a trim and lightly muscled body has begun to go to fat; and while he is no longer handsome, it is evident that he once was. His fall from physical grace should not suggest debauchery; he has, to come closest to it, a great weariness.

  PLACE

  Central Park, New York City. There are two park benches. Behind them: foliage, trees, sky.

  TIME

  Later that same Sunday.

  ACT ONE

  HOMELIFE

  PETER alone, reading, a book, a textbook probably. He is absorbed; turns a page, frowns, turns back, rereads something, turns forward again. Repeats this. ANN comes in from the hall to the kitchen, a towel in her hand. No rush. Intention non-evident. She comes up behind PETER—not too close. He does not notice her.

  ANN

  We should talk.

  (Waits; no reply; turns, exits whence.)

  PETER

  (After she goes—recognizing he had heard her.)

  What? We should—what?

  (Louder.)

  We should what?!

  ANN (Offstage.)

  What?

  (Reentering.)

  We should what?

  PETER

  We should what?

  ANN

  Oh.

  (Slight pause.)

  We should talk.

  (Wipes her hands with the towel.)

  PETER (Indicates book.)

  I was reading. I’m sorry.

  ANN (Bemused.)

  It happens so often.

  PETER (A little defensive.)

  Sorry.

  ANN

  No; that’s not what I meant.

  PETER (Confused.)

  What!

  ANN

  You read so … you get so involved—reading—more all the time.

  PETER (Smiles.)

  “Deepening concentration.” Deepened concentration. Work.

  ANN (Recalling.)

  Once I talked to you for … it seemed minutes … about—oh, what?—the fireplace, I think, and you didn’t hear a word. You were reading.

  PETER (A little unhappy.)

  The ears turn off—out, rather.

  (Tiny pause.)

  The fireplace? Really?

  ANN

  The andirons.

  PETER

  What was wrong? With them—with the andirons.

  ANN (Shrugs; stays standing.)

  Nothing really. I was wondering if I should clean them; if I should wash them.

  PETER (Book down.)

  Why?

  ANN

  What.

  PETER

  Why you should wash them.

  ANN

  Well, I’d noticed the fire’d made them all grey and sort of matte, and I wondered if we liked that.

  PETER

  Had we? Liked that?

  ANN (Moving to something.)

  I don’t know; we never had the conversation; you never heard me; we never talked about it.

  PETER (Brow furrows a little.)

  What did you do—about the andirons?

  ANN

  I scrubbed them.

  PETER (Tiny pause.)

  Ah.

  ANN

  And then they got all matte again—all grey.

  PETER

  (Reaches for her hand.)

  I’m sorry; I get so …

  ANN (Nice.)

  It doesn’t matter.

  PETER

  … involved. I guess it goes faster that way. What are you doing with the towel?

  ANN

  (Looks at it; realizes something.)

  Oh!

  (Exits.)

  PETER

  (Not realizing she’s gone; indicates book.)

  When it’s very important and very boring—like this—well, you’ve seen me go into like a trance? That way I don’t get to think “this is so boring I can’t do it.” It’s important. It’s probably the most important boring book we’ve ever done.

  (Thinks.)

  Well … maybe. It’s hard to tell; there are so many—so important, so boring.

  (Sees she’s gone.)

  Where are you? Ann?

  ANN

  (Reemerges, without towel.)

  That was close.

  PETER

  What was?

  ANN

  Hard-boiled spinach.

  PETER

  Really? Can you do that?

  ANN (Shakes her head.)

  We’ll never know. “If you’re going to cook, stay with the stove”—at least in the same room.

  PETER

  Or microwave.

  ANN

  I’ve decided I don’t like microwaves. It’s hard to get in there and … stir around; you have to trust what you’re doing.

  PETER

  Can’t you … stop the thing and open it up and …

  ANN

  Yes, of course you can, but it seems like cheating.

  PETER

  Why do we have two of them?

  ANN (Sudden, bright laugh.)

  We have two of everything.

  PETER (Pause.)

  We do?

  ANN

  One for the kids.

  PETER

  Do they use the microwave?

  ANN (Laughs.)

  Where do you live? Have you never been in the kitchen?

  PETER (False deliberation.)

  Uh … twice as I remember.

  ANN

  Of course they use the microwave—all the time.

  PETER

  I guess I’m the only one who doesn’t.

  ANN

  Well, I doubt the cats do, though they are bright.

  PETER (Wistful.)

  I want a dog.

  ANN (Fact.)

  No you don’t.

  PETER (Fact.)

  No I don’t.

  ANN

  What’s the book?

  PETER (A kind of litany.)

  It’s the most boring book we’ve ever published.

  ANN (Delighted.)

  Really! What an advertising gimmick … “the most boring book we’ve ever published and you know our reputation!”

  PETER

  … and probably the most important.

  ANN (An echo.)

  … “and probably the most important.”

  PETER

  As textbooks go it’ll most likely make us rich—the company, anyway.

  ANN

  What’s it about?

  PETER (Shaking his head.)

  You really don’t want to know.

  ANN (Smiles; persists.)

  What’s it about?

  PETER (Looks.)

  About seven hundred pages. I can barely lift it much less read it, but I do have to read it, so …

  (Shrugs.)

  ANN

  Before I married you my mother said to me, “Why ever would you want to marry a man publishes textbooks?”

  PETER (Smiles.)

  She did not.

  ANN

  Well, she could have, and maybe she did. “Why ever would you want to marry a man publishes textbooks?” “Gee, Ma, I don’t know—seems like fun.”

  PETER

  I thought your family liked me.

  ANN

  They do. “He’s a good, solid man,” Dad said. I’ve told you this. “None of this … fly-by-night fiction stuff.”

  PETER (Laughs.)

  “Fly-by-night.” What does that mean? Bats? And how does it relate to fiction?

  ANN

  I made it up. He never said it. Look it up.

  PETER

  What?

  ANN

  Fly-by-night.

  PETER

  Hmmm. Maybe I will.

  ANN


  Or have one of your researchers do it. Is it really that boring? “The most boring etc.?”

  PETER (Thinks; concludes.)

  Yes; except maybe Trollope’s Autobiography—which we didn’t publish, naturally.

  ANN

  I never read it.

  PETER

  Very few have … all the way through. I tried: it kept falling out of my hands.

  (Reconsiders.)

  Well … slipping.

  ANN (Pats him.)

  This is your party thing; this Trollope thing; you do this at parties.

  PETER (Genuine.)

  I do?!

  ANN

  Lots.

  PETER

  I didn’t know!

  ANN

  Doesn’t matter. Makes you look smart and funny, which you are anyway.

  PETER (Embarrassed.)

  I’m sorry.

  ANN

  It’s a good one! Keep it; it’s a keeper.

  PETER (A little sarcastic.)

  Thanks!

  (Moving on.)

  Anyway, next time you have trouble falling asleep—try it.

  (Lifts the book.)

  Or this.

  ANN

  Thanks.

  (Ironic.)

  If I ever have trouble sleeping.

  PETER (Pause.)

  Hm? What?

  ANN

  If I ever have trouble sleeping—she said ironically.

  PETER (Slight pause.)

  I see you, leaving bed—before dawn—when you think I’m asleep.

  ANN

  Do you?

  PETER

  Yes. Why?

  ANN

  Don’t you ever worry? You don’t say “Why can’t you sleep? Where are you going? What is it you want?”

  PETER

  You come back; I assume you’re … about your business.

  ANN (Small smile.)

  My nighttime business. My pre-dawn business.

  PETER

  I’m sorry; perhaps …

  ANN (Not accusatory.)

  For all you know I could go out in my nightdress, down in the elevator, out the door, down Seventy-fourth Street, to the corner; stand there; scream.

  PETER (Reasonable.)

  You could: yes; but you wouldn’t.

  ANN

  … or get there, strip off completely, lie down, spread my legs to the night—the pre-dawn.

  (Pause.)

  No, I wouldn’t, would I.

  PETER (Smiles.)

  No; you wouldn’t.

  ANN

  Some night, get up; follow me. You’ve never done it? Followed me?