The
respectful prostitute is set in a 1930’s small town in the American
South. Its themes include lack of freedom and systematic racism and
sexism. Before the play began, Lizzie witnessed four drunk men attempt to
throw two African Americans from a train. When they defended themselves
one of the attackers, Thomas, pulled a gun and killed one of the men. The
other victim managed to escape but was being perused because the men claimed
that he had raped Lizzie and they were merely defending her. These men
held high esteem in town and were either related to or friends with every man
of power presented in the play. In Scene One police make their way into
Lizzie’s apartment with no warrant. The prostitute promises to remain
truthful as they attempt to get her to sign their false statement. In the
last part of this scene they bring in the uncle of the murderer, the Senator,
to pressure her more. He first pretends that he understands her and will
leave her be, but he is truly manipulative. He pumps her with patriotic
images of Uncle Sam and Thomas’ sad white haired mother. She finds herself
sympathetic to the image of this woman and hopes to seek her approval by
freeing her son.
THE SENATOR: Look at me, Lizzie. Do you have confidence in me?
LIZZIE: Yes, Senator.
THE SENATOR: Do you believe that I would urge you to do any-thing wrong?
LIZZIE: No, Senator.
THE SENATOR: Then I urge you to sign. Here is my pen.
LIZZIE: You think she'll be pleased with me?
THE SENATOR: Who?
LIZZIE: Your sister.
THE SENATOR: She will love you, from a distance, as her very own child.
LIZZIE: Perhaps she'll send me some flowers?
THE SENATOR: Very likely.
LIZZIE: Or her picture with an inscription.
THE SENATOR: It's quite possible.
LIZZIE: I'd hang it on the wall. [A pause. She walks up and down, much agitated.] What a mess! [Coming up to THE SENATOR again] What will you do to the nigger if I sign?
THE SENATOR: To the nigger? Pooh! [He takes her by the shoulders.] If you sign, the whole town will adopt you. The whole town. All the mothers in it.
LIZZIE: But —
THE SENATOR: Do you suppose that a whole town could be mistaken? A whole town, with its ministers and its priests, its doctors, its lawyers, its artists, its mayor and his aides, with all its charities? Do you think that could happen?
LIZZIE: No, no, no.
THE SENATOR. Give me your hand. [He forces her to sign.] So now it's done. I thank you in the name of my sister and my nephew, in the name of the seventeen thousand white in-habitants of our town, in the name of the American people, whom I represent in these parts. Give me your forehead, my child. [He kisses her on the forehead.] Come along, boys. [To LIZZE] I shall see you later in the evening; we still have something to talk about. [He goes out.]
LIZZIE: Good-by. [They all go out. She stands there overwhelmed, then rushes to the door.] Senator! Senator! I don't want to sign! Tear up the paper! Senator! [She comes back to the front of the stage and mechanically takes hold of the vacuum cleaner.] Uncle Sam! [She turns on the sweeper.] Something tells me I've been had—but good! [She pushes the vacuum cleaner furiously.]
CURTAIN
This scene shows how deeply racism is ingrained into this society. With a “fifty million Elvis fans can’t be wrong” stance, The Senator justifies the community’s blood lust and brushes off the innocent man’s fate. The Senator is able to make Lizzie doubt her own witness testimony by saying more people speculate that something else happened. He manipulates her thoughts and her actions to benefit his family based on bigoted assumptions of superiority over her as a female and the victims on the train. After she is ambushed and taken advantage of, her freedom signed away by her guided hand she’s left in shock. She renounces the statement to deaf ears. She has been accosted by several men without warning and now feels powerless over her own actions. Turning to her vacuum cleaner after this traumatic experience plays on the theme of systematic sexism. In this time women were to stay in the home, to cook and clean. That is exactly were Lizzie finds comfort, in doing what those men would have told her to if they weren’t concerned with oppressing someone else.
This is the second play I have read by Sartre, the first being No Exit but I couldn't write about No Exit 'cause Merrick just dissed it in his blog post.
THE SENATOR: Look at me, Lizzie. Do you have confidence in me?
LIZZIE: Yes, Senator.
THE SENATOR: Do you believe that I would urge you to do any-thing wrong?
LIZZIE: No, Senator.
THE SENATOR: Then I urge you to sign. Here is my pen.
LIZZIE: You think she'll be pleased with me?
THE SENATOR: Who?
LIZZIE: Your sister.
THE SENATOR: She will love you, from a distance, as her very own child.
LIZZIE: Perhaps she'll send me some flowers?
THE SENATOR: Very likely.
LIZZIE: Or her picture with an inscription.
THE SENATOR: It's quite possible.
LIZZIE: I'd hang it on the wall. [A pause. She walks up and down, much agitated.] What a mess! [Coming up to THE SENATOR again] What will you do to the nigger if I sign?
THE SENATOR: To the nigger? Pooh! [He takes her by the shoulders.] If you sign, the whole town will adopt you. The whole town. All the mothers in it.
LIZZIE: But —
THE SENATOR: Do you suppose that a whole town could be mistaken? A whole town, with its ministers and its priests, its doctors, its lawyers, its artists, its mayor and his aides, with all its charities? Do you think that could happen?
LIZZIE: No, no, no.
THE SENATOR. Give me your hand. [He forces her to sign.] So now it's done. I thank you in the name of my sister and my nephew, in the name of the seventeen thousand white in-habitants of our town, in the name of the American people, whom I represent in these parts. Give me your forehead, my child. [He kisses her on the forehead.] Come along, boys. [To LIZZE] I shall see you later in the evening; we still have something to talk about. [He goes out.]
LIZZIE: Good-by. [They all go out. She stands there overwhelmed, then rushes to the door.] Senator! Senator! I don't want to sign! Tear up the paper! Senator! [She comes back to the front of the stage and mechanically takes hold of the vacuum cleaner.] Uncle Sam! [She turns on the sweeper.] Something tells me I've been had—but good! [She pushes the vacuum cleaner furiously.]
CURTAIN
This scene shows how deeply racism is ingrained into this society. With a “fifty million Elvis fans can’t be wrong” stance, The Senator justifies the community’s blood lust and brushes off the innocent man’s fate. The Senator is able to make Lizzie doubt her own witness testimony by saying more people speculate that something else happened. He manipulates her thoughts and her actions to benefit his family based on bigoted assumptions of superiority over her as a female and the victims on the train. After she is ambushed and taken advantage of, her freedom signed away by her guided hand she’s left in shock. She renounces the statement to deaf ears. She has been accosted by several men without warning and now feels powerless over her own actions. Turning to her vacuum cleaner after this traumatic experience plays on the theme of systematic sexism. In this time women were to stay in the home, to cook and clean. That is exactly were Lizzie finds comfort, in doing what those men would have told her to if they weren’t concerned with oppressing someone else.
This is the second play I have read by Sartre, the first being No Exit but I couldn't write about No Exit 'cause Merrick just dissed it in his blog post.