Suppressed Desires

by Susan Glaspell


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Scene II


SCENE II: Two weeks later. The stage is as in Scene I, except that the breakfast table has been removed. During the first few minutes the dusk of a winter afternoon deepens. Out of the darkness spring rows of double street-lights almost meeting in the distance. HENRIETTA is at the psychoanalytical end of STEVE’S work-table, surrounded by open books and periodicals, writing. STEVE enters briskly.

Steve

What are you doing, my dear?

Henrietta

My paper for the Liberal Club.

Steve

Your paper on—?

Henrietta

On a subject which does not have your sympathy.

Steve

Oh, I’m not sure I’m wholly out of sympathy with psychoanalysis, Henrietta. You worked it so hard. I couldn’t even take a bath without it’s meaning something.

Henrietta

[Loftily.] I talked it because I knew you needed it.

Steve

You haven’t said much about it these last two weeks. Uh—your faith in it hasn’t weakened any?

Henrietta

Weakened? It’s grown stronger with each new thing I’ve come to know. And Mabel. She is with Dr. Russell now. Dr. Russell is wonderful! From what Mabel tells me I believe his analysis is going to prove that I was right. Today I discovered a remarkable confirmation of my theory in the hen-dream.

Steve

What is your theory?

Henrietta

Well, you know about Lyman Eggleston. I’ve wondered about him. I’ve never seen him, but I know he’s less bourgeois than Mabel’s other friends—more intellectual—and [Significantly] she doesn’t see much of him because Bob doesn’t like him.

Steve

But what’s the confirmation?

Henrietta

Today I noticed the first syllable of his name.

Steve

Ly?

Henrietta

No—egg.

Steve

Egg?

Henrietta

[Patiently.] Mabel dreamed she was a hen. [STEVE laughs.] You wouldn’t laugh if you knew how important names are in interpreting dreams. Freud is full of just such cases in which a whole hidden complex is revealed by a single significant syllable—like this egg.

Steve

Doesn’t the traditional relation of hen and egg suggest rather a maternal feeling?

Henrietta

There is something maternal in Mabel’s love, of course, but that’s only one element.

Steve

Well, suppose Mabel hasn’t a suppressed desire to be this gentleman’s mother, but his beloved. What’s to be done about it? What about Bob? Don’t you think it’s going to be a little rough on him?

Henrietta

That can’t be helped. Bob, like everyone else, must face the facts of life. If Dr. Russell should arrive independently at this same interpretation I shall not hesitate to advise Mabel to leave her present husband.

Steve

Um—hum! [The lights go up on Fifth Avenue. STEVE goes to the window and looks out.] How long is it we’ve lived here, Henrietta?

Henrietta

Why, this is the third year, Steve.

Steve

I—we—one would miss this view if one went away, wouldn’t one?

Henrietta

How strangely you speak! Oh, Stephen, I wish you’d go to Dr. Russell. Don’t think my fears have abated because I’ve been able to restrain myself. I had to on account of Mabel. But now, dear—won’t you go?

Steve

I—[He breaks off, turns on the light, then comes and sits beside HENRIETTA.] How long have we been married, Henrietta?

Henrietta

Stephen, I don’t understand you! You must go to Dr. Russell.

Steve

I have gone.

Henrietta

You—what?

Steve

[Jauntily.] Yes, Henrietta, I’ve been psyched.

Henrietta

You went to Dr. Russell?

Steve

The same.

Henrietta

And what did he say?

Steve

He said—I—I was a little surprised by what he said, Henrietta.

Henrietta

[Breathlessly.] Of course—one can so seldom anticipate. But tell me—your dream, Stephen? It means—?

Steve

It means—I was considerably surprised by what it means.

Henrietta

Don’t be so exasperating!

Steve

It means—you really want to know, Henrietta?

Henrietta

Stephen, you’ll drive me mad!

Steve

He said—of course he may be wrong in what he said.

Henrietta

He isn’t wrong. Tell me!

Steve

He said my dream of the walls receding and leaving me alone in a forest indicates a suppressed desire—

Henrietta

Yes—yes!

Steve

To be freed from—

Henrietta

Yes—freed from—?

Steve

Marriage.

Henrietta

[Crumples. Stares.] Marriage!

Steve

He—he may be mistaken, you know.

Henrietta

May be mistaken?

Steve

I—well, of course, I hadn’t taken any stock in it myself. It was only your great confidence—

Henrietta

Stephen, are you telling me that Dr. Russell—Dr. A. E. Russell—told you this? [STEVE nods.] Told you you have a suppressed desire to separate from me?

Steve

That’s what he said.

Henrietta

Did he know who you were?

Steve

Yes.

Henrietta

That you were married to me?

Steve

Yes, he knew that.

Henrietta

And he told you to leave me?

Steve

It seems he must be wrong, Henrietta.

Henrietta

[Rising.] And I’ve sent him more patients—! [Catches herself and resumes coldly.] What reason did he give for this analysis?

Steve

He says the confining walls are a symbol of my feeling about marriage and that their fading away is a wish-fulfillment.

Henrietta

[Gulping.] Well, is it? Do you want our marriage to end?

Steve

It was a great surprise to me that I did. You see I hadn’t known what was in my unconscious mind.

Henrietta

[Flaming.] What did you tell Dr. Russell about me to make him think you weren’t happy?

Steve

I never told him a thing, Henrietta. He got it all from his confounded clever inferences. I—I tried to refute them, but he said that was only part of my self-protective lying.

Henrietta

And that’s why you were so—happy—when you came in just now!

Steve

Why, Henrietta, how can you say such a thing? I was sad. Didn’t I speak sadly of—of the view? Didn’t I ask how long we had been married?

Henrietta

[Rising.] Stephen Brewster, have you no sense of the seriousness of this? Dr. Russell doesn’t know what our marriage has been. You do. You should have laughed him down! Confined—in life with me? Did you tell him that I believe in freedom?

Steve

I very emphatically told him that his results were a great surprise to me.

Henrietta

But you accepted them.

Steve

Oh, not at all. I merely couldn’t refute his arguments. I’m not a psychologist. I came home to talk it over with you. You being a disciple of psychoanalysis—

Henrietta

If you are going, I wish you would go tonight!

Steve

Oh, my dear! I—surely I couldn’t do that! Think of my feelings. And my laundry hasn’t come home.

Henrietta

I ask you to go tonight. Some women would falter at this, Steve, but I am not such a woman. I leave you free. I do not repudiate psychoanalysis; I say again that it has done great things. It has also made mistakes, of course. But since you accept this analysis—[She sits down and pretends to begin work.] I have to finish this paper. I wish you would leave me.

Steve

[Scratches his head, goes to the inner door.] I’m sorry, Henrietta, about my unconscious mind.

[Alone, HENRIETTA’S face betrays her outraged state of mind—disconcerted, resentful, trying to pull herself together. She attains an air of bravely bearing an outrageous thing.—The outer door opens and MABEL enters in great excitement.

Mabel

[Breathless.] Henrietta, I’m so glad you’re here. And alone? [Looks toward the inner door.] Are you alone, Henrietta?

Henrietta

[With reproving dignity.] Very much so.

Mabel

[Rushing to her.] Henrietta, he’s found it!

Henrietta

[Aloof.] Who has found what?

Mabel

Who has found what? Dr. Russell has found my suppressed desire!

Henrietta

That is interesting.

Mabel

He finished with me today—he got hold of my complex—in the most amazing way! But, oh, Henrietta—it is so terrible!

Henrietta

Do calm yourself, Mabel. Surely there’s no occasion for all this agitation.

Mabel

But there is! And when you think of the lives that are affected—the readjustments that must be made in order to bring the suppressed hell out of me and save me from the insane asylum—!

Henrietta

The insane asylum!

Mabel

You said that’s where these complexes brought people!

Henrietta

What did the doctor tell you, Mabel?

Mabel

Oh, I don’t know how I can tell you—it is so awful—so unbelievable.

Henrietta

I rather have my hand in at hearing the unbelievable.

Mabel

Henrietta, who would ever have thought it? How can it be true? But the doctor is perfectly certain that I have a suppressed desire for—

[Looks at HENRIETTA, is unable to continue.

Henrietta

Oh, go on, Mabel. I’m not unprepared for what you have to say.

Mabel

Not unprepared? You mean you have suspected it?

Henrietta

From the first. It’s been my theory all along.

Mabel

But, Henrietta, I didn’t know myself that I had this secret desire for Stephen.

Henrietta

[Jumps up.] Stephen!

Mabel

My brother-in-law! My own sister’s husband!

Henrietta

You have a suppressed desire for Stephen!

Mabel

Oh, Henrietta, aren’t these unconscious selves terrible? They seem so unlike us!

Henrietta

What insane thing are you driving at?

Mabel

[Blubbering.] Henrietta, don’t you use that word to me. I don’t want to go to the insane asylum.

Henrietta

What did Dr. Russell say?

Mabel

Well, you see—oh, it’s the strangest thing! But you know the voice in my dream that called “Step, Hen!” Dr. Russell found out today that when I was a little girl I had a story-book in words of one syllable and I read the name Stephen wrong. I used to read it S-t-e-p, step, h-e-n, hen. [Dramatically.] Step Hen is Stephen. [Enter STEPHEN, his head bent over a time-table.] Stephen is Step Hen!

Steve

I? Step Hen?

Mabel

[Triumphantly.] S-t-e-p, step, H-e-n, hen, Stephen!

Henrietta

[Exploding.] Well, what if Stephen is Step Hen? [Scornfully.] Step Hen! Step Hen! For that ridiculous coincidence—

Mabel

Coincidence! But it’s childish to look at the mere elements of a dream. You have to look into it—you have to see what it means!

Henrietta

On account of that trivial, meaningless play on syllables—on that flimsy basis—you are ready—[Wails.] O-h!

Steve

What on earth’s the matter? What has happened? Suppose I am Step Hen? What about it? What does it mean?

Mabel

[Crying.] It means—that I—have a suppressed desire for you!

Steve

For me! The deuce you have! [Feebly.] What—er—makes you think so?

Mabel

Dr. Russell has worked it out scientifically.

Henrietta

Yes. Through the amazing discovery that Step Hen equals Stephen!

Mabel

[Tearfully.] Oh, that isn’t all—that isn’t near all. Henrietta won’t give me a chance to tell it. She’d rather I’d go to the insane asylum than be unconventional.

Henrietta

We’ll all go there if you can’t control yourself. We are still waiting for some rational report.

Mabel

[Drying her eyes.] Oh, there’s such a lot about names. [With some pride.] I don’t see how I ever did it. It all works in together. I dreamed I was a hen because that’s the first syllable of Hen-rietta’s name, and when I dreamed I was a hen, I was putting myself in Henrietta’s place.

Henrietta

With Stephen?

Mabel

With Stephen.

Henrietta

[Outraged.] Oh! [Turns in rage upon STEPHEN, who is fanning himself with the time-table.] What are you doing with that time-table?

Steve

Why—I thought—you were so keen to have me go tonight—I thought I’d just take a run up to Canada, and join Billy—a little shooting—but—

Mabel

But there’s more about the names.

Henrietta

Mabel, have you thought of Bob—dear old Bob—your good, kind husband?

Mabel

Oh, Henrietta, “my good, kind husband!”

Henrietta

Think of him, Mabel, out there alone in Chicago, working his head off, fixing people’s teeth—for you!

Mabel

Yes, but think of the living Libido—in conflict with petrified moral codes! And think of the perfectly wonderful way the names all prove it. Dr. Russell said he’s never seen anything more convincing. Just look at Stephen’s last name—Brewster. I dream I’m a hen, and the name Brewster—you have to say its first letter by itself—and then the hen, that’s me, she says to him: “Stephen, Be Rooster!”

[HENRIETTA and STEPHEN collapse into the nearest chairs.

Mabel

I think it’s perfectly wonderful! Why, if it wasn’t for psychoanalysis you’d never find out how wonderful your own mind is!

Steve

[Begins to chuckle.] Be Rooster! Stephen, Be Rooster!

Henrietta

You think it’s funny, do you?

Steve

Well, what’s to be done about it? Does Mabel have to go away with me?

Henrietta

Do you want Mabel to go away with you?

Steve

Well, but Mabel herself—her complex—her suppressed desire—!

Henrietta

[Going to her.] Mabel, are you going to insist on going away with Stephen?

Mabel

I’d rather go with Stephen than go to the insane asylum!

Henrietta

For heaven’s sake, Mabel, drop that insane asylum! If you did have a suppressed desire for Stephen hidden away in you—God knows it isn’t hidden now. Dr. Russell has brought it into your consciousness—with a vengeance. That’s all that’s necessary to break up a complex. Psychoanalysis doesn’t say you have to gratify every suppressed desire.

Steve

[Softly.] Unless it’s for Lyman Eggleston.

Henrietta

[Turning on him.] Well, if it comes to that, Stephen Brewster, I’d like to know why that interpretation of mine isn’t as good as this one? Step, Hen!

Steve

But Be Rooster! [He pauses, chuckling to himself.] Step-Hen B-rooster. And Henrietta. Pshaw, my dear, Doc Russell’s got you beat a mile! [He turns away and chuckles.] Be rooster!

Mabel

What has Lyman Eggleston got to do with it?

Steve

According to Henrietta, you, the hen, have a suppressed desire for Eggleston, the egg.

Mabel

Henrietta, I think that’s indecent of you! He is bald as an egg and little and fat—the idea of you thinking such a thing of me!

Henrietta

Well, Bob isn’t little and bald and fat! Why don’t you stick to your own husband? [To STEPHEN.] What if Dr. Russell’s interpretation has got mine “beat a mile”? [Resentful look at him.] It would only mean that Mabel doesn’t want Eggleston and does want you. Does that mean she has to have you?

Mabel

But you said Mabel Snow—

Henrietta

Mary Snow! You’re not as much like her as you think—substituting your name for hers! The cases are entirely different. Oh, I wouldn’t have believed this of you, Mabel. [Beginning to cry.] I brought you here for a pleasant visit—thought you needed brightening up—wanted to be nice to you—and now you—my husband—you insist—

[In fumbling her way to her chair she brushes to the floor some sheets from the psychoanalytical table.

Steve

[With solicitude.] Careful, dear. Your paper on psychoanalysis!

[Gathers up sheets and offers them to her.

Henrietta

I don’t want my paper on psychoanalysis! I’m sick of psychoanalysis!

Steve

[Eagerly.] Do you mean that, Henrietta?

Henrietta

Why shouldn’t I mean it? Look at all I’ve done for psychoanalysis—and—[Raising a tear-stained face] what has psychoanalysis done for me?

Steve

Do you mean, Henrietta, that you’re going to stop talking psychoanalysis?

Henrietta

Why shouldn’t I stop talking it? Haven’t I seen what it does to people? Mabel has gone crazy about psychoanalysis!

[At the word “crazy” with a moan MABEL sinks to chair and buries her face in her hands.

Steve

[Solemnly.] Do you swear never to wake me up in the night to find out what I’m dreaming?

Henrietta

Dream what you please—I don’t care what you’re dreaming.

Steve

Will you clear off my work-table so the Journal of Morbid Psychology doesn’t stare me in the face when I’m trying to plan a house?

Henrietta

[Pushing a stack of periodicals off the table.] I’ll burn the Journal of Morbid Psychology!

Steve

My dear Henrietta, if you’re going to separate from psychoanalysis, there’s no reason why I should separate from you.

[They embrace ardently. MABEL lifts her head and looks at them woefully.

Mabel

[Jumping up and going toward them.] But what about me? What am I to do with my suppressed desire?

Steve

[With one arm still around HENRIETTA, gives MABEL a brotherly hug.] Mabel, you just keep right on suppressing it!

(CURTAIN)

 

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