Small Epiphanies

Reading my Mamet Three Sisters on my apartment buildings lovely, shady patio, I put something together. As you might have read previously, I've been trying to put the play into my own perspective as an actor and someone who's just really into Chekhov. So for example, I've been trying to answer the question of Tuzenbach's germanicness (his name in the play is understood to be uber german) from both the perspective of an actor, and a wannabe dramaturg. One theory I'd been toying with dramaturgically, maybe Chekhov is intentionally creating an echo to Karl Marx through Tuzenbach's proto socialist diatribes and his german last name. I brought this up in rehearsal, and my director admitted she hadn't thought of it that way, and over the course of the conversation I ultimately dismissed it for myself. Then I was looking at the text, and Tuzenbach's line where he says that although he has a German last name, and his optimism could be ascribed as a German trait, his father was Russian Orthodox and not fluent and German and Tuzenbach was the same way. Then I thought, "oh yeah cause duh, he's descended from the Russian nobility, and as was the case with Tsar Nicholas II, his family married into the German royal line" because that's what they did back then in the European aristocracy. So that answers half of that question! I've now moved on to Tuzenbach's relationship to his Germanicness, and in particular that theme of optimism in his character and how it relates to the play's philosophical ideas. The other night at rehearsal, we looked at a moment where Vershinin, who provides a counter point to Tuzenbach's ideas and character, expresses his belief that over time the sister's influence will be felt and their enlightened presence and way of life will reverberate across future generations, until it is the dominant way of thought and life becomes beautiful. In the process, he kind of one up's Tuzenbach who tries to frame a rejoinder and doesn't really succeed. In the next act, Tuzenbach's philosophy has turned cynicism and we pondered the question, could this be because of Vershinin's influence causing him to attempt a new point of view to regain his status as resident philosopher? Maybe, but now I think it's just life wearing him down. Over the play he continues to realize that life isn't as sunny as he believes it to be in Act 1 as he says to Irina as he confesses his love to her. I wonder if part of his philosphizing, or as Solyony calls it his sophistry, is partly an attempt to woo her with his ideas. He persists in this throughout the play, pursuing her and a life which is more meaningful then his meandering life as an officer in the Russian army. In the fourth act, he's close to realizing it, Irina has finally agreed to marry him, having few other viable options and they are about to go off together to live a romantic life working. But in the end, he realizes she doesn't love him and never will, and instead chooses to go off and die rather then let his optimism wither way. Or has it already left him, now that he's realized his dreams will never truly come true, and death is a better option?

Did I mention how heavy duty this play is? It's pretty serious stuff. But it's really funny too! I mean, that's what I've always loved about Chekhov, how there is so much humor ingrained in his sometimes sad or downright tragic situations and that is especially true in David Mamet's adaptation.

And now I'm off to do Swimming in the Shallows, it's warm and spring like outside, and to echo Tuzenbach's earlier sentiments, life is good.