Kaspar and Other Plays Read online

  I appropriated objects. I acquired objects as property and possessions. I appropriated objects at places where the appropriation of objects was prohibited on principle. I appropriated objects which it was an act hostile to society to appropriate. I claimed objects as private property when it was inopportune to claim I owned them. I declared objects to be public property when it was unethical to remove them from private hands. I treated objects without care when it was prescribed to treat them with care. I touched objects which it was unaesthetic and sinful to touch. I separated objects from objects which it was inadvisable to separate. I failed to keep the required distance from objects from which it was imperative to keep the required distance. I treated persons like objects. I treated animals like persons. I took up contact with living beings with whom it was immoral to take up contact. I touched objects with objects which it was useless to bring into touch with each other. I traded with living beings and objects with which it was inhuman to trade. I treated fragile goods without care. I connected the positive pole to the positive pole. I used externally applicable medicines internally. I touched exhibited objects. I tore scabs off half-healed wounds. I touched electric wires. I failed to register letters that had to be sent registered. I failed to affix a stamp to applications that required a stamp. I failed to wear mourning clothes upon a death in the family. I failed to use skin cream to protect my skin from the sun. I dealt in slaves. I dealt in uninspected meat. I climbed mountains with shoes unfit for mountain climbing. I failed to wash fresh fruit. I failed to disinfect the clothes of plague victims. I failed to shake the hair lotion before use.

  I looked and listened. I looked at. I looked at objects which it was shameless to look at. I failed to look at objects which it was a dereliction of duty to fail to look at. I failed to watch events which it was philistine to fail to watch. I failed to watch events in the position prescribed to watch them. I failed to avert my eyes during events it was treasonable to watch. I looked back when looking back was proof of a bad upbringing. I looked away when it was cowardly to look away. I listened to persons whom it was unprin-cipaled to listen to. I inspected forbidden areas. I inspected buildings in danger of collapse. I failed to look at persons who were speaking to me. I failed to look at persons with whom I was speaking. I watched unadvisable and objectionable movies. I heard information in the mass media that was hostile to the state. I watched games without a ticket. I stared at strangers. I looked without dark glasses into the sun. I kept my eyes open during sexual intercourse.

  I ate. I ate more than I could stomach. I drank more than my bladder could hold. I consumed food and drink. I ingested the four elements. I inhaled and exhaled the four elements. I ate at moments when it was undisciplined to eat. I failed to breathe in the prescribed manner. I breathed air which it was below my station to breathe. I inhaled when it was harmful to inhale. I ate meat during the fast days. I breathed without a gas mask. I ate on the street. I inhaled exhaust gases. I ate without knife and fork. I failed to leave myself time to breathe. I ate the Host with my teeth. I failed to breathe through my nose.

  I played. I misplayed. I played according to rules which, according to existing rules, were against convention. I played at times and places where it was asocial and ingenuous to play. I played with persons with whom it was dishonorable to play. I played with objects with which it was unceremonious to play. I failed to play at times and places where it was unsociable to fail to play. I played according to the rules when it was individualistic not to play according to the rules. I played with myself when it would have been humane to play with others. I played with powers with whom it was presumptuous to play. I failed to play seriously. I played too seriously. I played with fire. I played with lighters. I played with marked cards. I played with human lives. I played with spray cans. I played with life. I played with feelings. I played myself. I played without chips. I failed to play during playtime. I played with the inclination to evil. I played with my thoughts. I played with the thought of suicide. I played on a thin sheet of ice. I played and trespassed at one and the same time. I played despair. I played with my despair. I played with my sex organ. I played with words. I played with my fingers.

  I came into the world afflicted with original sin. My very nature inclined toward evil. My innate viciousness expressed itself at once in envy of my fellow suckling. One day in the world, I was no longer free of sin. Bawling, I craved my mother’s breasts. All I knew was to suck. All I knew was to gratify my desires. With my reason I refused to recognize the laws that were placed in the universe and in myself. I was conceived in malice. I was begotten in malice. I expressed my malice by destroying things. I expressed my malice by trampling live beings to death. I was disobedient out of love of play. What I loved in playing was the sense of winning. I loved in fantastic stories the itch in my ear. I idolized people. I took greater delight in the trivia of poets than in useful knowledge. I feared a solecism more than the eternal laws. I let myself be governed solely by my palate. I only trusted my senses. I failed to prove that I had a sense of reality. I not only loved crimes, I loved committing crimes. I preferred to do evil in company. I loved accomplices. I loved complicity. I loved sin for its danger. I did not search for truth. The pleasure I took in art was in my pain and my compassion. I pandered to the desires of my eyes. I failed to recognize the purpose of history. I was godforsaken. I was forsaken by the world. I did not designate the world as this world. I also included the heavenly bodies in the world. I was sufficient for myself. I cared only for worldly things. I took no cold bath against melancholy. I took no hot bath against passion. I used my body for wrong ends. I failed to take notice of the facts. I failed to subordinate my physical nature to my spiritual nature. I denied my nature. I ran up against the nature of things. I indiscriminately sought power. I indiscriminately sought money. I failed to teach myself to regard money as a means. I lived in excess of my means. I failed to have the means to put up with the state of affairs. I myself determined how I would fashion my life. I did not overcome myself. I did not toe the line. I disturbed the eternal order. I failed to recognize that evil is only the absence of good. I failed to recognize that evil is only an abuse. I gave birth to death in my sins. I made myself, with my sins, one with the cattle that is to be slaughtered in the slaughterhouse but snuffles at the very iron designed to slaughter it. I failed to resist the beginnings. I failed to find the moment to stop. I made myself an image of the highest being. I sought not to make myself an image of the highest being. I refused to divulge the name of the highest being. I only believed in the three persons of grammar. I told myself that there is no higher being so as not to have to fear it. I looked for the opportunity. I did not use the chance. I did not submit to necessity. I did not count on the possibility. I did not learn from bad examples. I did not learn from the past. I abandoned myself to the free play of forces. I mistook freedom for license. I mistook honesty for self-exposure. I mistook obscenity for originality. I mistook the dream for reality. I mistook life for the cliché. I mistook coercion for necessary guidance. I mistook love for instinct. I mistook the cause for the effect. I failed to observe the unity of thought and action. I failed to see things as they really are. I succumbed to the magic of the moment. I failed to regard existence as a provisional gift. I broke my word. I did not have command of the language. I did not reject the world. I did not affirm authority. I was a naive believer in authority. I did not husband my sexual powers. I sought lust as an end in itself. I was not sure of myself. I became a puzzle to myself. I wasted my time. I overslept my time. I wanted to stop time. I wanted to speed up time. I was in conflict with time. I did not want to grow older. I did not want to die. I did not let things come toward me. I could not limit myself. I was impatient. I could not wait for it. I did not think of the future. I did not think of my future. I lived from one moment to the next. I was domineering. I behaved as though I was alone in the world. I proved ill-bred. I was self-willed. I lacked a will of my own. I did not work on myself. I fail
ed to make work the basis of my existence. I failed to see God in every beggar. I did not eradicate evil at its roots. I irresponsibly thrust children into the world. I failed to adapt my pleasures to my social circumstances. I sought for bad company. I always wanted to be at the center. I was too much alone. I was not enough alone. I led my own life too much. I failed to grasp the meaning of the word “too.” I failed to regard the happiness of all mankind as my ultimate aim. I did not place the common interest before the individual interest. I did not face the music. I disregarded orders. I failed to disobey unjustifiable orders. I did not know my limits. I failed to see things in their relationship with one another. I made no virtue of necessity. I switched convictions. I was incorrigible. I failed to put myself at the service of the cause. I was satisfied with the status quo. I saw no one but myself. I yielded to insinuations. I decided neither for one nor for the other. I took no stand. I disturbed the balance of power. I violated generally acknowledged principles. I did not fulfill the quota. I fell behind the goal that had been set. I was one and everything to myself. I did not take enough fresh air. I woke up too late. I did not clean the sidewalk. I left doors unlocked. I stepped too near the cage. I failed to keep entrances free. I failed to keep exits free. I pulled the safety brake without good reason. I leaned bicycles against forbidden walls. I solicited and peddled. I did not keep the streets clean. I did not take off my shoes. I leaned out the window of a moving train. I handled open fires in rooms that were firetraps. I paid unannounced visits. I did not get up for invalids. I lay down in a hotel bed with a lighted cigarette. I failed to turn off faucets. I spent nights on park benches. I failed to lead dogs on a leash. I failed to muzzle dogs that bit. I failed to leave umbrellas and coats in the cloakroom. I touched goods before I bought them. I failed to close containers immediately after use. I tossed pressurized containers into the fire. I crossed on the red. I walked on superhighways. I walked along the railroad bed. I failed to walk on the sidewalk. I failed to move to the rear in streetcars. I did not hold on to the straps. I used the toilet while the train was stopped in the station. I did not follow personnel instructions. I started motor vehicles where it was prohibited to do so. I failed to push buttons. I crossed the rails in railroad stations. I failed to step back when trains were coming in. I exceeded the load limit in elevators. I disturbed the quiet of the night. I affixed posters to forbidden walls. I tried to open doors by pushing when they could only be pulled open. I tried to open doors by pulling when they could only be pushed open. I roamed the streets after dark. I lit lights during blackouts. I did not remain calm in accidents. I left the house during curfew. I did not stay in my place during catastrophes. I thought of myself first. I indiscriminately rushed out of rooms. I activated alarm signals without authorization. I destroyed alarm signals without authorization. I failed to use emergency exits. I pushed. I trampled. I failed to break the window with the hammer. I blocked the way. I put up unauthorized resistance. I did not stop when challenged. I did not raise my hands above my head. I did not aim at the legs. I played with the trigger of a cocked gun. I failed to save women and children first. I approached the drowning from behind. I kept my hands in my pockets. I took no evasive action. I did not let myself be blindfolded. I did not look for cover. I offered an easy target. I was too slow. I was too fast. I moved.

  I did not regard the movement of my shadow as proof of the movement of the earth. I did not regard my fear of the dark as proof of my existence. I did not regard the demands of reason for immortality as proof of life after death. I did not regard my nausea at the thought of the future as proof of my nonexistence after death. I did not regard subsiding pain as proof of the passage of time. I did not regard my lust for life as proof that time stands still.

  I am not what I was. I was not what I should have been. I did not become what I should have become. I did not keep what I should have kept.

  I went to the theater. I heard this piece. I spoke this piece. I wrote this piece.

  KASPAR

  1 phase Can Kaspar, the owner of one sentence, begin and begin to do something with this sentence?

  2 phase Can Kaspar do something against other sentences with his sentence?

  3 phase Can Kaspar at least hold his own against other sentences with his sentence?

  4 phase Can Kaspar defend himself from other sentences and keep quiet even though other sentences prod him to speak?

  5 phase Can Kaspar only become aware of what he speaks through speaking?

  6 phase Can Kaspar, the owner of sentences, do something with these sentences, not only to other sentences but also to the objects of the other sentences?

  7 phase Can Kaspar bring himself into order with sentences about order, or rather, with ordered sentences?

  8 phase Can Kaspar, from the order of a single sentence, derive a whole series of sentences, a series that represents a comprehensive order?

  9 phase Can Kaspar learn what, in each instance, is the model upon which an infinite number of sentences about order can be based?

  10 phase Can Kaspar, with the sentence model he has learned, make the objects accessible to himself or become himself accessible to the objects?

  11 phase Can Kaspar, by means of sentences, make his contribution to the great community of sentences?

  12 phase Can Kaspar be brought to the point where, with rhyming sentences, he will find rhyme and reason in the objects?

  13 phase Can Kaspar put questions to himself?

  14 phase Can Kaspar, with uninhibited sentences which he applies to his old inhibited sentences, reverse the inverted world of these sentences?

  15 phase Can Kaspar defend himself at least with an inverted world of sentences against inverted sentences about the world? Or: Can Kaspar, by inverting inverted sentences, at least avoid the false appearance of rightness?

  16 phase Who is Kaspar now? Kaspar, who is now Kaspar? What is now, Kaspar? What is now Kaspar, Kaspar?

  thixtheen years

  thoutheast station

  whath thould

  whath thould

  he do

  thoutheast station

  thixtheen years

  whath thould

  the fellow

  whath thould

  he do

  thixtheen years

  thoutheast station

  what thould

  he do

  the fellow

  with hith

  thixtheen years

  Ernst Jandl

  The play Kaspar does not show how IT REALLY IS or REALLY WAS with Kaspar Hauser. It shows what is POSSIBLE with someone. It shows how someone can be made to speak through speaking. The play could also be called speech torture. To formalize this torture it is suggested that a kind of magic eye be constructed above the ramp. This eye, without however diverting the audience’s attention from the events on stage, indicates, by blinking, the degree of vehemence with which the PROTAGONIST is addressed. The more vehemently he defends himself, the more vehemently he is addressed, the more vehemently the magic eye blinks. (Or one might employ a jerking indicator of the kind used on scales for tests of strength in amusement parks.) Although the sense of what the voices addressing the protagonist say should always be completely comprehensible, their manner of speaking should be that of voices which in reality have a technical medium interposed between themselves and the listeners: telephone voices, radio or television announcers’ voices, the voice that tells the time on the phone, the voices of automatic answering services of all kinds, the speech mannerisms of sports commentators, of stadium announcers, of narrators in the more endearing cartoons, of announcers of train arrivals and departures, of interviewers, of gym teachers who by the way they speak make their directions correspond to the sequence of the gymnastic movements, of language course records, of policemen as they speak through bullhorns at demonstrations, etc. etc. These manners of speaking may all be applied to the text, but only in such a way that they clarify the SENSE or NONSENSE of what is being said. The audien
ce need not be aware which manner of speaking is being used at any given moment, but etc. At the same time, the miniature scenes should be projected, enlarged, on the back of the stage.

  Kaspar (Kasper means clown in German) does not resemble any other comedian; rather, when he comes on stage he resembles Frankenstein’s monster (or King Kong).

  The front curtain is already drawn. The audience does not see the stage as a representation of a room that exists somewhere, but as a representation of a stage. The stage represents the stage. On first glance, the objects on the stage look theatrical: not because they imitate other objects, but because the way they are situated with respect to one another does not correspond to their usual arrangement in reality. The objects, although genuine (made of wood, steel, cloth, etc), are instantly recognizable as props. They are play objects. They have no history. The audience cannot imagine that, before they came in and saw the stage, some tale had already taken place on it. At most they can imagine that the stage hands have moved objects hither and thither. Nor should the audience be able to imagine that the props on stage will be part of a play that pretends to take place anywhere except on stage: they should recognize at once that they will witness an event that plays only on stage and not in some other reality. They will not experience a story but watch a theatrical event. This event will last until the curtain comes together at the end of the piece: because no story will take place, the audience will not be in a position to imagine that there is a sequel to the, story. The stage should look something like this: the backdrop of the stage consists of a curtain of the same size and fabric as the front curtain. The folds of the curtain are vertical and plentiful, so the audience has difficulty distinguishing the place where the curtain parts. The wings are bare. The props are in front of the backdrop: they are obviously actors’ props. They look new, so the audience won’t think they are seeing the representation of a junkshop; and to avoid this possibility, the objects are in their normal positions: the chairs are straight up, the broom is leaning, the cushions lie flat, the drawer is where it belongs in the table. However, so the audience won’t think it is seeing the representation of a home-furnishing exhibition, the objects are situated without any obvious relationship to each other; they stand there tastelessly, so the audience recognizes a stage in the objects on display. The chairs stand far from the table, as though they had nothing to do with it; they do not stand at the usual angle to the table or at a normal angle toward each other (they should not, however, give a picture of disorder). The table and its drawer face the audience. Elsewhere on stage there is another table, smaller, lower, with only three legs. Center stage is empty. Two chairs stand elsewhere, each with a different backrest, one with a cushion, one without. Somewhere else is a sofa with room for almost five persons. Half the sofa (from the vantage point of those sitting in the center of the auditorium) should be behind the wings, thus indicating backstage. Elsewhere there is a rocking chair. Somewhere else, a broom and shovel, one of them bearing the clearly discernible word STAGE or the name of the theater. Somewhere else, a wastepaper basket with the same inscription. On the large table, but not in the middle, stands a broad-necked bottle with water in it, and next to it a glass. At the back of the stage is a stylish closet with a large key in the lock. None of the props has any particularly unusual characteristic that might puzzle the beholder. In front, in the center of the apron, is a microphone.