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The Ghost of Gardencourt: An Experimentative Scene

Penguins's picture

While speaking with Professor Dalke during our conference, the conversation turned towards Ralph from A Portrait of a Lady; and how I came to adopt him as my favorite character for his more pure-minded intentions, while Professor Dalke found him to actually be quite evil and suspicious, since he himself was manipulating Isabel for his own amusement. Finding that an interesting angle that I had not considered before, I decided to write a more creative-minded piece that emphasized not only Ralph’s motives for manipulation throughout the book, but also the love he held for Isabel (whether cousinly or otherwise, is up to reader discretion). I was also rather intrigued by the ghost imagery used in the novel, and how like in The Turn of the Screw, the ghost never actually spoke during its brief appearance. Preferring to think of the ghost of Gardencourt as Ralph soon after his death, I came out with an expository scene (if not somewhat cheesy, as well) that expanded those few sentences that mentioned it near the end. In order to use textual support (along with better-written dialogue than my own), I took several quotes spoken by both Ralph and Isabel throughout the novel and placed them within the scene, with the added effect of possibly eliciting nostalgia for particular chapters in which they were originally written. As for why I ended up writing in play rather than short story format, I remembered how Henry James had always desired to write a successful play for the theater, and thought it somehow appropriate to attempt this, as plays leave far more room for interpretation and invented details and actions than do novels (as well as for tribute purposes, of course).

(All italicized lines are direct quotes taken from The Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James)

The Ghost of Gardencourt

ISABEL’s bedroom at Gardencourt. Early morning, with ISABEL rising from bed. RALPH’s ghost inconspicuously enters in from STAGE RIGHT, visibly startling ISABEL somewhat once she notices his presence.

ISABEL

My dear Ralph—!

            RALPH

I have come to bid you goodbye. I shall find myself leaving you soon.

            ISABEL

(Stands up and moves slowly towards RALPH, as though somewhat apprehensive) You should not have left your bed; come, let us go back so you may continue to rest.

            RALPH

That would not be possible. (Remains standing rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on ISABEL as she stops walking towards him) I am not what you would call myself, so I cannot follow your advice this time.

            ISABEL

(More emboldened this time) Ralph, I insist that you stop this. You cannot be possibly be well enough to be out of bed so soon!

            RALPH

No, I most certainly would not be, I agree. However, I’ve no wish to argue with you at all. I only wish to leave you alone.

            ISABEL

…what exactly do you mean by that?

            RALPH

I mean just that, dear cousin. It was for you that I wanted—that I wanted to live. But I’m of no use to you.

            ISABEL

Dearest Ralph, what has come over you to make you speak this way?

            RALPH

Life has come over me. Or rather, the oncoming imposition of death has. In either case, I merely wished to exchange a final set of parting words with you before I should depart.

            ISABEL

So…you truly do believe that you are about to die?

            RALPH

I do know that with me it’s all over. However, perverse though it may sound; Isabel, I wish it were over for you.

            ISABEL

I’m afraid that I still do not understand you, Ralph.

            RALPH

Then I am afraid that I should forever be doomed to remain misunderstood in your eyes. But I did not come into your room to play you riddles, so I should be as frank as I will allow: where will you yourself go, once I have gone?

            ISABEL

I don’t know—I can’t tell. I shall stay here as long as I may. I don’t want to think—I may make another mistake, possibly larger, possibly worse than my previous one.

            RALPH

(Shaking head regretfully) I think I’ve hardly got over my surprise. You were the last person I expected to see caught. You must have changed immensely; you valued your liberty beyond everything. You wanted only to see life.

            ISABEL

We have already discussed this some time before. Regardless of what decisions I have made, I have already seen life, and decided that what I had seen was enough.

            RALPH

(A small note of indignation creeps into his voice) I had treated myself to a charming vision of your future. I had amused myself with planning out a high destiny for you. You were not to come down so easily or so soon.

            ISABEL

It seems that you held impossibly high standards for me to attempt leaping over—while flattering in one regard, simply exhausting in another. I am truly sorry to say this to you, but the life I have chosen for myself was mine to contemplate and choose, and within no one else’s power or interest.

            RALPH

I don’t pretend to advise you, and I content myself with watching you—with the deepest interest. (Slips hands into pockets) But what’s the use of being ill and disabled and restricted to mere spectatorship at the game of life if I really can’t see the show when I’ve paid so much for my ticket?

            ISABEL

So do you then profess to in fact be no different from my husband? That you had manipulated me as well, only for amusement rather than money? (Takes several steps back, voice holding a disbelieving, or even indignant tone) Have you nothing to say for your conscience now, considering what you constantly berated him for?

            RALPH

My dear lady, I have no conscience! I never did profess to be anything even similar to an angel or a saint; that has never fallen upon my lot. (Draws a single hand out of his pocket to rub at his forehead) But it’s scandalous, the way I’ve taken advantage of you!

            ISABEL

(Drawing herself upright) So you do admit to it, at least? I should very much appreciate it if you would take ownership of that allegation.

            RALPH

I do so admit, and I apologize most profusely for this transgression. (Silence falls for several seconds, during which RALPH then takes a few tentative steps towards ISABEL) More than anything else, I want you to know that I care for nothing but you, dear cousin. And that I’ve said what I have on my mind—and I’ve said it because I love you.

            ISABEL

(Moves forward to meet RALPH) I forgive you, dearest Ralph, if only because you’ve been my best friend; one whose death is follows far too closely on our heels to allow for any manner of felicity.

            RALPH

(Sighs again, this time with a more resigned air) Indeed, I fear that I may be squandering time that I do not have the right to. It passes, after all; it’s passing now. But love remains. I don’t know why we should suffer so much. Perhaps I shall find out. There are many things in life.

            ISABEL

(Nods reassuringly, although it is not obvious as to whether it is for RALPH or herself) I should think that there are many things in death, too.

            RALPH

Dear Isabel, life is better; for in life there’s love. Death is good—but there’s no love. If there is any consolation for me to be found, it is that you should live, even if it should not be the same independent and bold life I would have preferred for you.

            ISABEL

The decisions I have made that led me to where I am now have been made, and the only one way to repair them, is just immensely to accept them. (Raises her hand as if to touch RALPH, but freezes in mid-air, as if thinking better of it) I do remember your speaking to me before of the ghost in Gardencourt—could you not remain here as it also does?

            RALPH

I would have hoped you would also remember that the ghost of Gardencourt has never been seen by a young, happy, innocent person. You must have suffered first, have suffered greatly, have gained some miserable knowledge in order to see it. (Mirrors ISABEL’s previous hand motion, slowly moving his hand to reach for hers as he speaks) You have suffered, but you’re not made to suffer. (RALPH’s hand finally wraps around ISABEL’s) I hope you’ll never see the ghost again.

(All lights lower in the scene except for a lone spotlight over ISABEL, which then fades out as well after ISABEL moves towards door positioned at STAGE RIGHT)

Comments

Anne Dalke's picture

Saying the Unsaid



Penguins--
it's sheer delight to me to see you playing here with the form of a play--this form that (as you say) James himself played w/ so little success. I like the way you interweave some of James's language with your own, and think that some of your own lines have a particularly--pleasingly--Jamesian ring to them; I'm especially fond of "I am not what you would call myself" and "Life has come over me."

I also appreciate the way in which this playlet operates to highlight some dimensions that the novel form itself doesn't (and can't?) exploit. One thing that your "experimentative scene" has  certainly highlighted for me -- something I really hadn't thought of @ all, til I read your version -- is the way in which the very brief mention of the ghost of Gardencourt, in The Portrait of a Lady, could be seen as precursor to the ghosts in "The Turn of the Screw." It operates both as a symbol of sorrow ("You must have suffered first, have suffered greatly, have gained some miserable knowledge in order to see it") and as a symbol of ambiguity: are the ghosts figures of evil, or is the evil a projection of the viewer? Is Ralph manipulative--the cause of all of Isabel's sorrow--or is Isabel seeking to displace onto his "pure-minded intentions" her own responsibility for her fate?

So: that's one thing I learned from your project. And now I'm curious to know more about what you yourself learned from this inventive exercise: did you see the ghost scene as clarifying both Ralph's intentions and Isabel's understanding of them? Or was the net result one of further complexification?  You say in your introduction that "plays leave far more room for interpretation and invented details and actions than do novels"; was your goal (and your accomplishment), then, to make the relationship between Ralph and Isabel more uncertain, more unclear--and therefore more interpretable?

If so, another effective intervention might have been to interpolate some lines from "The Turn of the Screw" into this scene...following Dimock's notion of "subjunctive time" to read "back" into the earlier novel some of the spooky insights from the later novella. (Another internet exploration of The Portrait of a Ghost reads the ghost of Gardencourt as "representing knowledge withheld: words unsaid, meanings hidden, depth veiled," as "opening a door to a greater whole, the realm of both the possible and the impossible"). Or was it your intention to use the ghost scene for very different ends: that is, to clear up such ambiguities? (When you have Isabel say to Ralph, for instance, that "I should very much appreciate it if you would take ownership of that allegation," you are using the scene for demand and clarification--to very different effect than the ghost scenes operate in "The Turn of the Screw.")

In responding to your earlier project this semester, The Victories of the Imagination are Enough, I nudged you to think about how you might better "fit" your writing to this new venue that we call the blog, by speaking from your own point of view, and explaining what motivates your work. You did that this time round (for which thanks!), so now I'll nudge a bit further, to remind you that your internet audience, arriving @ this site via who knows what route, needs some introduction to the location from which you speak. You begin in media res--"While speaking with Professor Dalke during our conference"--in a way that might make it difficult for a casual visitor to orient herself: who's Professor Dalke? what conference? In other words, having located yourself, by saying "I," you need also to orient others. How might you do that?