A READERS THEATRE PRODUCTION OF THREE STORIES FROM

STANISLAW LEM'S THE CYBERIAD; FABLES

FOR THE CYBERNETIC AGE

by

CONNIE TAPP BANDY, B.S. in Ed.

A THESIS

IN

SPEECH COMMUNICATION

Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of Texas Tech University in -Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

the Degree of

MASTER OF ARTS

Approved

Accepted

December, 1982

7:-: I P"—

^

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am deeply indebted to Dr. Vera L. Simpson for her direction of

this thesis, and for her help and encouragement throughout the years.

I would also like to thank Dr. William J. Jordan and Dr. Keith V.

Erickson for their helpful criticism and advice.

I would like to express my gratitude to Mrs. Linda Milam Vancil

and to Mr. Julian "Kip" Hyde, who also read the role of Klapaucius,

for their invaluable help in staging this readers theatre production,

as well as to the rest of my cast for their hard work: Mr. Ernest

Barton, Ms. Joyce Elliot, and Ms. Linda Thompson. Mr. Stephen Tolle

designed the backdrop for the set.

11

11

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I. INTRODUCTION 1

Review of Previous Studies in Science Fiction 2

Oral Interpretation and Readers Theatre

as Modes of Literary Study 5

Justification of the Study 7

Statement of Problem 10

Methodology 11

Summary of Chapters 11

II. LEM'S LIFE AND LITERATURE 15

Difficulties in Working with Translations 15

Brief Biography of Lem 18

Lem's Works 19

Lem's Major Themes and Techniques 26

Reasons for Choosing The Cyberiad Selections 27

Summary 29

III. CONFRONTATION, MEDITATION, CONTROL AND RECOGNITION

OF THE STRUCTURAL DYNAMICS OF THE LITERATURE 32

Director's Role: Confrontation 32

Director's Role: Meditation 34

Director's Role: Determination of Control and

Structural Dynamics 35

Director's Role: Assembling the Cast 38

Group Process: Confrontation 41

Group Process: Meditation and Control 43

Group Process: Recognition of Structural Dynamics 44

Summary 45

IV. EXPLORATION OF THE LITERATURE 47

Group Evolution of the Set 47

Group Evolution of Characters 49

Group Evolution of Blocking 52

Development of Costuming 54

111

Rationale for Lighting 54

Summary 55

V. COMPLETION 57

Public Performances 57

Audience Reactions to the Metaworld 57

Summary 68

VI. SUMMARY, CONCLUSIONS, AND RECOMMENDATIONS

FOR FUTURE STUDY 70

Summary 70

Conclusions 71

Recommendations for Future Study 71

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 73

APPENDICES

A. Correspondence 83

B. Script 86

C. Figures 131

1. Ground Plan 132

2. Elevation of Center Arrangement 133

D. Audience Questionnaire 134

iv

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

Our concern here . . . is with certain writers of

real excellence whose major achievements have come

after the remarkable decade of the fifties but

who for one reason or another, have not been a

part of the "New Wave." Their work is among the

very best science fiction we have, and its high

literary quality has had much to do with the grow­

ing attention science fiction has received from

literary critics and the growing respectability of

science fiction courses in schools and colleges.

These writers are Philip K. Dick and Ursula K.

Le Guin in America, John Brunner and D. G. Compton

in England, and Stanislaw Lem in Poland.

This thesis has as its subject the works of one of the "writers

of real excellence," Stanislaw Lem, which had been translated into

English as of April, 1978. Although each of his works of fiction

which had been translated will be discussed at least briefly, major

attention will be directed to his cycle of robotic tales. The

Cyberiad: Fables for the Cybernetic Age, translated by Michael Kandel

The means of literary study employed will be literary analysis cul­

minating in performance through readers theatre. This chapter will

set forth introductory material relevant to this study, discuss the

compatibility of science fiction and readers theatre, state the par­

ticular problem to be examined, introduce the method to be followed

in solving that problem, and outline the chapters to follow.

Review of Previous Studies in Science Fiction

And what are some of the things which the tradi­

tional literary critic knows about SF? He knows

that works of SF use the language clumsily, with

neither grace nor wit. He knows that these works

lack interesting characters, being populated by

robots, some of whom are supposed to be men and

women. He knows that the plotting in these fic­

tions is either hackneyed, episodic, or both. And

he knows that their subject matter is unreal, 2

escapist, and ultimately trivial.

This description of the field of science fiction is, perhaps, the

most pervasive one for many people. Why, then, should the number of

courses offered in the study of science fiction rise from one in 1962

at Colgate University, to approximately five hundred by 1974 at

various colleges throughout the United States and Canada, as Lahna F. 3

Diskin reported in her doctoral research? The answer may simply be:

. . . a certain amount of what people "know" about

SF without reading it is true—and simply reveals a

prejudice against the genre and against other con­

temporary forms of fiction as well. But much of

this "knowledge" is totally unfounded, the result

of misinformation and ignorance of the texts them­

selves.

Ursula K. Le Guin, herself one of the "certain writers of real

excellence" mentioned earlier, also discusses this "image" problem in

one of her essays:

It's a pity that this trivial image is perpetuated,

when the work of people from Zamyatin to Lem has

shown that when science fiction uses its limitless

range of symbol and metaphor novelistically, with

the subject at the centre [sic], it can show us who

we are, and where we are, and what choices face us,

with unsurpassed clarity, and with a great and

troubling beauty.

In research at the University of Iowa, Sam J. Siciliano concluded

that science fiction works were both creative and mimetic, drawing on

reality to create something new. After working with "Science,

Fiction, and Film: A Study of the Interaction of Science, Science

Fiction Literature, and the Growth of Cinema," Bruce R. Cook con­

cluded that science fiction serves a threefold purpose in modern

society: as a feedback system to science; as a barometer of societal

concerns, hopes, and fears; and as a modern mythology. Norman

Spinrad agrees that science fiction holds a unique sphere of influ­

ence:

Speculative fiction is the only fiction that deals

with modern reality in the only way that it can be

comprehended—as the interface between a rapidly

evolving and fissioning environment and the result­

ant continuously mutating human consciousness.

Speculative fiction is surfacing into popular cul­

ture from every direction because it reflects the

condition of the modern mind. It is the only fic­

tion that confronts and explores the modern Zeit­

geist and is therefore inherently the literature of 8

our times.

Although science/speculative fiction may serve as a type of

modem mythology, it explores Mythos within certain new knowledge.

Robert Scholes writes in his book. Structural Fabulation: Essay on

Fiction of the Future:

In works of structural fabulation the tradition of

speculative fiction is modified by an awareness of

the nature of the universe as a system of systems,

a structure of structures, and the insights of the

past century of science are accepted as fictional

points of departure. Yet structural fabulation is

neither scientific in its methods nor a substitute

for actual science. It is a fictional exploration

of human situation made perceptible by the impli­

cations of recent science. Its favorite themes

involve the impact of developments or revelations

derived from the human or the physical sciences

upon the people who must live with those revela-9

tions or developments.

Some research has been conducted from this viewpoint of scien­

tific developments. Nancy Whyte Lewis examined the Alexandria Quartet

group of novels by Lawrence Durrell in terms of the author's rendering

of space in the post-Einsteinian era, to determine the degree Durrell

approached reality as either wholistic or atomistic. Samuel H.

Vasbinder reached further into the past to look at elements of

Newtonian monism as a basis of scientific thought in Mary Shelley's

Frankenstein, while T. H. Kirlin delved into the "geometric

imagination" of H. G. Wells in early classic science fiction: The Time 12

Machine, The Sleeper Wakes, and "A Story of Days to Come."

Not all research has taken the scientific tack, however. D. G.

Jackson chose to perform a historical analysis of the Frankenstein 13

story, based on mythos, technological advances, and social changes.

Jennie Dailey designed a course on science fiction, including such

diverse works as Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land, Frank

Herbert's Dune, Roger Zelazny's "A Rose for Ecclesiastes," and Samuel

Delaney's "Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones," as 14

well as others. Science fiction themes in mainstream novels.

William Golding's The Inheritors and Walker Percy's Love in the Ruins,

drew the attention of Peter S. Alterman for his research.

The possibilities for work in the area of science fiction are

wide-ranging. One dissertation looked at science fiction as a para-

^hi; 17

religious experience in the works of Roger Zelazny, while another

examined the cult phenomenon of science fiction fandom.

In terms of the varying societies presented, one writer has

chosen to view anti-utopian elements of science fiction in the mid-18

Twentieth Century, i.e. the "Golden Age." One woman elected to do

a content analysis of paperback science fiction appearing in the 19

United States from 1945-70, in terms of projected societies.

Obviously, neither of these mentioned Lem or his work, since his books

were not translated until the 1970s.

At least two studies have dealt with foreign science fiction, one 20

concerned with themes and motifs unique to Brazilian works and

another looking at the theme of survival in the space-time continuum

in German works.

Although the research field includes a variety of topics, this

production was, to the best of this author's knowledge, the first

research conducted in the United States focusing on Stanislaw Lem or

one of his works, either in the field of science fiction or readers

theatre.

Oral Interpretation and Readers Theatre as Modes of Literary Study

. . . reading literature aloud deepens the reader's

understanding of the text, for in giving it voice

he experiences the writing more completely, more

comprehensibly, than he does in silent reading.

Not only must he discern and understand the atti­

tude of the author, but he must express that atti­

tude with his voice and body. In this sense, the

oral reader reembodies the original speaker or the

creator of the text. Not only must he recognize

the tone of the poem, but he is stimulated to 22

reproduce the tone.

Probably from his earliest use of speech, man has been accustomed

to living in acoustical space, giving shape and form to his thoughts, 23

feelings, and experiences through language. This shaping of the

human experience was multi-sensory, involving sight and sound

especially, but also touch, smell, and even taste on occasion—what

has been termed the beginnings of the oral tradition. As printed

materials became more widely available after the invention of move­

able type, and as the populace became generally more literate in

those cultures using print, this oral tradition turned more and more

to the experience of solitary, silent reading. Although both silent

and oral reading may create metaworlds to which the reader responds,

oral interpretation and readers theatre go beyond perceiving and

analyzing the literary experience to re-creating that experience's 24

existence. The performing reader seeks to restore the experience 25

to what might be termed "poetic space." The processes of analysis

and critical thought are not ends, but rather means to greater under­

standing:

Because his analysis ends in a reading, the student

is usually motivated to make close analytical

studies. He learns why, because he must teach him­

self why, a poem must be "torn apart." He is less

likely to object that all his pleasure has been

destroyed by "ripping the poem to shreds." He

should learn through his readings that this object

in which he takes pleasure is, after all, the con­

figuration of its parts. A teacher can always

tell the student this, but the student by oral 26

readings can show and convince himself.

This performance is not only beneficial for the reader, but also

for the literature, in that it attains a more immediate form, and also

for the audience, in that the performance expands the use of imagina­

tion and broadens cultural

describes the process thus:

27 tion and broadens cultural and empathic growth. Leland H. Roloff

He [the performer of literature] tries to give a

presentational form to literature, to create a meta­

world so impinging, so alive, so real to the inner

senses that the external world of the receiver is

forgotten. In the effective performance of litera­

ture there is a sense of something being revealed;

through the unique impact of sound and physical

presence emanating from a performer, the perceiver

senses an art form working upon and within him.

What he sees and hears happening before him is both

the literature and the performer attaining a_ state

r u 4 28 of being.

A sampling of theses using readers theatre as a means of literary 29

study include those focusing on authors as diverse as Walt Whitman 30 31

and Ingmar Bergman. Others have looked at literature for children 32

and from the oral tradition. Another studied Mark Twain's 1884-85

reading tour, another Ken Kesey's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, 35

and yet another John Knowles's A Separate Peace. e. e. cummings has 36

also been a popular subject. This smattering of theses is indica­

tive of the wide variety of areas of study open to the oral inter­

preter and to the director of readers theatre. The only limits are

those set by his own experience and imagination.

Justification of the Study

Given the use of readers theatre as a means of study which goes

beyond the process of literary analysis to the embodiment of literary

works, this study can be thought of as justifiable in terms of the

8

general compatibility of the field of science fiction with readers

theatre as a presentational mode, particularly in the case of The

Cyberiad. While some major points about the "fit" between science

fiction and readers theatre as a suggestive rather than a portraitive

medium will be made here, the discussion concerning the choice of The

Cyberiad for performance will be handled in Chapter II, which looks

at how Lem's work in general and The Cyberiad in particular were

picked as the basis of this thesis.

As previously mentioned in this chapter, the field of science

fiction has been attracting attention within recent years. Scholes

goes on in his essay on structural fabulation to postulate another

reason for the growing fascination with this type of literature:

. . . in the past few decades fiction has begun . . .

to dream new dreams, confident . . . that all dreams

are true. It is fiction—verbal narrative—that

must take the lead in such dreaming, because even

the new representational media that have been

spawned in this age cannot begin to match the

speculative agility and imaginative freedom of A 37 words.

What cannot be done by the representational media such as tele­

vision and film is not necessarily a problem for the imaginative

human mind. David Kyle thinks that this quality may account for the

rising popularity:

Because science fiction is such a strange genre,

blending abstract ideas with concrete manifesta­

tions, it is nearly always highly pictorial in

quality, although very often it is the reader who

is asked to conjure up in his own mind the details

of the pictures in collaboration with the author's

imagination. That is why the pictorial element in

science fiction has so enormously captured the

interest of today's public, just as the intellectual 38

content has proved so popular.

Although Kyle is speaking here primarily of the relationship

between actual text and illustrations for books and/or magazines, the

relationship of the illustrator is similar to the role of the oral

interpreter; both are auxiliary artists whose responsibility is to

portray the author's metaworld as closely as discernible. While an

illustrator may have to content himself with one or two pictures with

which to gain the silent reader's imaginative interaction, the people

involved with performing in readers theatre present a series of sug­

gestive, rather than literally portraitive, "pictures," involving not

only visual but also aural and other sensoiy cues to embody the

literature and to stimulate the audience member's imaginetive inter­

action with that literature; in a special sense they "become" the

literature and thereby an extension of its art.

In writing his introduction to Tomorrow and Beyond, a volume of

over three hundred works of science fiction and fantasy illustrations

by more than sixty-five artists, editor Ian Summers discusses some of

the goals of art based on science fiction and fantasy works:

What all the works have in common, besides a

fondness for the themes and subject matter, is a

sense of exploration. They transport us to fron­

tiers where nothing can be taken for granted; they

offer us both a challenge and an invitation—a

challenge to dispense with stale habits of thought,

and an invitation to discover the joys of seeing

the world and ourselves from a fresh perspective.

• • •

Science fiction art, like, science fiction it­

self, assumes a special mission in training the

imagination. Its strength comes from its attitude

10

toward the future: it is not afraid of technology,

it is not afraid of change, it is not afraid of

contemplating alternate views of reality. Some of

the darker visions on the following pages are tes­

timony to the fact that science fiction is not

"mere escapism." These artists recognize the

destructive potential of man's creations. Even

when the themes touch on nightmare, the mood stops

just short of despair. If a single lesson can be

extracted from this wealth of imagery, it is that

nothing conceived of by the human mind is utterly , . 39

alien.

This excerpt also expresses many of the goals of oral interpreta­

tion and readers theatre: to explore the literature, to help gain new

perspectives about the human experience, to enlarge the imagination,

to help man find himself within even the strange. If the science fic­

tion artist chooses the conventional materials of illustration, the

interpreter chooses a living medium through himself and/or readers

theatre.

Statement of Problem

Once The Cyberiad; Fables for the Cybernetic Age was chosen as

the source for the script, the decision was made to look at two prob­

lems related to production. The first, and major, area would be the

consideration of whether readers theatre would facilitate the pre­

sentation of mechanical beings whose attitudes, activities, and

reactions to their world seem more human than machine-like, in the

traditional sense, in such a way that the audience perceives both the

cybernetic metaworld and its human values. Second, the enhancement

of mythic elements common to fables through production elements related

to the audience perception of time in the metaworld would be sought

as a minor adjunct to the major area of study.

11

Methodology

To facilitate research, the six-step method of qualitative

problem-solving as outlined by Roloff in his text, The Perception and 40

Evocation of Literature, was chosen as a framework for this study.

These six steps consist of confrontation, meditation, control, recog­

nition of structural dynamics, exploration, and completion. The

application of that process forms the crux of Chapters III, IV, and

V. Roloff's text served as a primary resource in directing this

readers theatre production.

Readers Theatre Handbook by Leslie Irene Coger and Melvin White

was also used as a supplementary resource.

Summary of Chapters

This chapter has set forth the background of this thesis, provided

a justification of this study in terms of the compatibility of science

fiction and readers theatre, stated the research problem, and outlined

the methodology to be used in approaching that problem. The following

chapters will look at the qualitative problem-solving process as it

was applied to the area of research.

Chapter II will present a brief biography of Stanislaw Lem and

discuss his translated literary works and principle themes, as well

as the reasoning behind the choice of The Cyberiad. The director's

work in choosing the script, recruiting a cast, and helping the group

in their early confrontation with that script form the basis of

Chapter III, while Chapter IV will look at the group's work in devel­

oping the set, characterizations, blocking, costuming, and lighting.

In Chapter V, the circumstances of the performances, methods of data

collection, and a summary of audience reactions will be discussed.

Chapter VI will summarize this work, give some conclusions about the

research, and offer some possible areas for future study.

Following the chapter will be appendices giving correspondence

concerning this production, the script, the ground plan and elevation

of the set, and the questionnaire distributed to members of the audi­

ence.

12

Notes for Chapter 1^

Robert Scholes and Eric S. Rabkin, Science Fiction: Science, History, Vision (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977), p. 71.

2 Robert Scholes, Structural Fabulation: An Essay on Fiction of

the Future (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1975), p. 47. 3 Lahna Faga Diskin, "Teaching and Reading Science Fiction in

College," Diss. University of Michigan 1975. 4 Scholes, Structural Fabulation, p. 49.

Ursula K. Le Guin, "Science Fiction and Mrs. Brown," in Science Fiction at Large, ed. Peter Nicholls (New York: Harper and Row, 1976), p. 32.

Sam Joseph Siciliano, "The Fictional Universe in Four Science Fiction Novels: Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange, Ursula Le Guin's The Word for World is Forest, Walter Miller's A Canticle for Leibowitz, and Roger Zelazny's Creatures of Light and Darkness," Diss. University of Iowa 1975.

Bruce Randall Cook, "Science, Fiction, and Film: A Study of the Interaction of Science, Science Fiction Literature, and the Growth of Cinema," Diss. University of Southern California 1976.

Q

Norman Spinrad, ed., Modern Science Fiction (Garden City: Anchor Press/Doubleday, 1974), p. 3.

9 Scholes, Structural Fabulation, pp. 41-42.

Nancy Whyte Lewis, "Lawrence Durrell's Alexandria Quartet and the Rendering of Post-Einsteinian Space," Diss. University of Wiscon­sin-Madison 1976.

Samuel Holmes Vasbinder, "Scientific Attitudes in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein: Newtonian Monism as a Basis for the Novel," Diss. Kent State University 1976.

12 Thomas Michael Kirlin, "H. G. Wells and the Geometric Imagina­

tion: A Study of Three Science Fiction Novels in the Nineties," Diss. University of Iowa 1974.

13 Donald George Jackson, "The Changing Myth of Frankenstein: A

Historical Analysis of a Myth, Technology, and Society," Diss. Univer­sity of Texas-Austin 1974.

13

14 Jennie Ora Marriott Dailey, "Modern Science Fiction," Diss.

University of Utah 1974.

Peter Steven Alterman, "A Study of Four Science Fiction Themes and Their Function in Two Contemporary Novels," Diss. University of Denver 1974.

John Rothfork, "New Wave Science Fiction Considered as a Popular Religious Phenomenon: A Definition and an Example," Diss. University of New Mexico 1973.

Beverly Oberfeld Friend, "The Science Fiction Fan Cult," Diss. Northwestern University 1975.

18 Harold Lynde Berger, "Anti-utopian Science Fiction of the Mid-

Twentieth Century," Diss. University of Tennessee 1970. 19

Eleanor Evelyn Huebner Brock, "Projected Societies in American Science Fiction, 1945-1970," Diss. Ohio State University 1976.

20 David Lincoln Dunbar, "Unique Motifs in Brazilian Science

Fiction," Diss. University of Arizona 1976. 21

Alice Carol Garr, "German Science Fiction: Variations on the Theme of Survival in the Space-Time Continuum," Diss. University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill 1973.

22 Leslie Irene Coger and Melvin R. White, Readers Theatre Hand­

book, rev. ed. (Glenview: Scott, Foresman and Company, 1973), pp. 10-11.

23 For a discussion of the oral tradition and its role in and

influence on oral interpretation from the time of Classical Greece to Nineteenth Century America, see Eugene Bahn and Margaret L. Bahn, A History of Oral Interpretation (Minneapolis: Burgess Publishing Company, 1970).

0/

Leland H. Roloff, The Perception and Evocation of Literature (Glenview: Scott, Foresman and Company, 1973), p. 17.

^^ Leland H. Roloff, "Living in Poetic Space," Address, Mid­western State University, Wichita Falls, Texas, April 1, 1977.

26 Don Geiger, The Sound, Sense, and Performance of Literature

(Glenview: Scott, Foresman and Company, 1963), p. 16. 27

Coger and White, pp. 6-8 28

Roloff, Perception and Evocation, p. 17.

14

29 Donna R. Tobias, "A Pluralistic Approach to Walt Whitman's 'Song

of the Open Road' for the Oral Interpreter: Explicative, Archetypal, and Rhetorical Analyses," Thesis University of Houston 1972.

30 Karen Spadacine, "An Analysis of a Screenplay for a Chamber

Theatre Adaptation and Presentation: Ingmar Bergman's Smiles of a_ Summer Night," Thesis University of South Florida 1972.

31 Mary B. Greenway, "The Wind in the Willows: A Chamber Theatre

Production for Children," Thesis University of Texas-Austin 1972. 32

Barbara Kerr, "An Oral Interpretation Program of Selected Navaho Literature," Thesis North Texas State University 1974.

33 Sandra N. Boyce, "A Readers Theatre Production Reflecting a

Study of the 1884-85 Reading Tour of Mark Twain," Thesis University of North Carolina 1971. -

34 Irene K. Shipman, "Chamber Theatre Production of Ken Kesey's

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," Thesis University of Maryland-College Park 1972.

35 Mary Lee Heslop, "Readers Theatre: Production of John Knowles'

Novel: A Separate Peace," Thesis University of Utah 1972. 36

Three examples of theses dealing with e. e. cummings are Harolyn W. Crouch, "A Reader's Theatre Production of Selected Works of E. E. Cummings," Thesis University of Cincinnati 1972; Larry G. Capo, "'Only Dead People Don't Cry,' A Creative Thesis (A Chamber Theatre Production of e. e. cummings)," Thesis Central Michigan Uni­versity 1972; and James R. Rambo, "A Readers Theatre Production Evolved From E. E. Cummings: A Creative-Critical Study," Thesis Texas Tech University 1974.

37 Scholes, Structural Fabulation, p. 38.

38 David Kyle, A Pictorial History of Science Fiction (New York:

Hamlyn Publishing Group Limited, 1976), pp. 10-11. 39

Ian Summers, ed., Tomorrow and Beyond: Masterpieces of Science

Fiction Art (New York: Workman Publishing Company, Inc., 1978), p. 9.

Roloff, Perception and Evocation, pp. 23-24.

CHAPTER II

LEM'S LIFE AND LITERATURE

This chapter will examine some of the problems inherent in work­

ing with translations, particularly when those using the text cannot

read the original language. Then a brief biography of Lem will be

presented, followed by an overview of his works available in English

translation at the time of this production. Third, a discussion of

Lem's major themes and motifs will be presented. Finally, the ration­

ale for the selection of -the stories for this readers theatre produc­

tion will be examined.

Difficulties in Working with Translations

In seeking material for performance, the interpreter/director

faces a number of challenges. It is imperative that the material

chosen awaken a sense of empathically and psychically shared experi­

ence, or what Roloff terms a "sense of resonance." For performance,

the literature should also evoke a sense of acoustic space, of having

an oral and aural voice. The performer must transform that sense of

resonance and aurality into behavioral cues, which should then trans­

form the literature into an unfolding process to promote "a sense of

inevitability of experience from the symbols of feeling inherent in 2

the printed word."

The translator faces much the same task. Thus, a performer

unfamiliar with the original language must find a translator who

feels the same responsibility toward the literature that he himself

does. The translator must realize that his work is an act of love, a

re-awakening of a voice within the literature, as well as a kind of

transformation involving the living aspects of the literature which

allow the experience to move from one language to another, from one

15

16

3 culture to another. Often, when only one translation of a work is

available, the interpreter must seek elsewhere for material—although

the original work may have received much critical praise—because of

problems with the translation, arising from either lack of skill, or

sensitivity, on the part of the translator.

The late James Blish touched on this problem in his review of

Lem's The Invincible. In the following quotation from that review,

the two translations under consideration are one published in the

United States by Seabury Press, 1973, by Wendayne Ackerman, and the

other published in the United Kingdom by Sidgwick and Jackson, 1973,

by an unknown translator:

Worth reading—but which edition to read? . . .

Confusion is created by the Seabury's text's divi­

sion into 11 chapters, whereas the U. K. version

has 13. These chapters are titled, the titles dif­

fer, and there is no way to tell which, if any, were

Lem's (except perhaps, by observing that four are

identical in each edition). I prefer Mrs. Ackerman's

and her way of dividing the text. I am sorry to

have to say that my admiration for her version

stops there.

She was working from a 1967 East Berlin edition.

Sidgwick and Jackson offer no such data—though from

a line-by-line comparison, I would guess that their

source was the same one, not the original Polish—

nor do they give their translator a name. This is

unfair, for he (?) has done the better job. . . .

More often than not, on a given sentence the two

agree, word for word. However, whenever confronted

with one of those complex structures which German

grammar makes possible and even sometimes admirable,

Mrs. Ackerman chooses to translate it literally;

17

whereas Anonymous condenses it into English, gain­

ing force and poetry yet with no sacrifice of mean-. 4 ing.

Ursula K. Le Guin concludes her review of The Invincible by also

lamenting the fact that the edition available is from the German as

opposed to the Polish original, since "connoisseurs of the originals

assure me that they have lost much of their texture, style, and

impact."

Fortunately, Michael Kandel, who produced the translation of The

Cyberiad used in this presentation, is a translator who is both skill­

ful and responsible. Furthermore, he is able to work from the Polish

originals, bringing his readers that much closer to the source.

Le Guin, a very accomplished writer who has won critical acclaim for

her own science fiction books, commenting on an anthology of European

science fiction, says:

. . . any Lem seems to be worth reading; and . . .

"In Hot Pursuit of Happiness" gives some foretaste

of the zany wit of The Cyberiad . . . and a sample

of Michael Kendel's [sic] superb translation.

Kandel's work with The Cyberiad retains the variety of tones and

textures praised in the original, evoking both the solemnity which is

never far from the surface in Lem and the delight in verbal play which

leavens that solemnity. Kandel has translated more of Lem's fiction

for publication in the United States than anyone else, with seven

titles. His talents solve a number of the difficulties that arise

when an interpreter seeks to use a translation. His version of the

mathematical love poem from "Trurl's Electronic Bard" retains not only

the mere use of mathematical terms in a verse format, but also the

aural sense of poetry so important to that piece's success as satire.

This example is typical of his skill in bringing The Cyberiad to the

English language.

18

Brief Biography of Lem

The little information about Lem's life is derived from a few

prefaces and notes by Kandel and by Darko Suvin.^ Lem was born in

1921—the same year that Karel Capek's R.U.R. appeared—in Lwow,

Poland. Although Lem has published an autobiography concerning his

youth and adolescence. High Castle, it has yet to be translated into

English and little of this information is available to the general

reader at present. Lem began medical studies, but they were

interrupted by the outbreak of World War II. During the Occupation, he

worked as a mechanic and welder, once narrowly escaping execution by

the Nazis. In 1948, he was finally able to complete his medical

studies at the Jagellonian University, Cracow. There Lem also became

interested in popular science and the philosophy of science,

especially the area of cybernetics. He was able to gain access to

Western books on these topics. Upon completion of his studies, Lem

decided to write, rather than to practice medicine.

With the appearance of The Astronauts in 1951, Lem became known

as a writer of science fiction and fantastic literature. According to

Kandel's information, since serious literature in Poland has tradi­

tionally dealt with social and political problems, Lem's early works

were largely ignored by the critics, who considered them primarily for

young people; if any critics did notice the commentary on Polish

society inherent in these writings, they may have felt that it was too

pointed for public discussion.

Lem quickly became popular among the scientific community, how­

ever. This popularity spread first to the Soviet Union and eventually

led to Andrei Tarkovsky's film of Solaris. This film, in turn,

spurred interest in Western countries when it was released with sub­

titles by Curzon Cinema in May, 1973. This release sparked a flurry

of publishing activity in the United States, so that nine of Lem's

books, as well as a handful of short stories in two anthologies of

European science fiction, had been translated and published here by

early 1978.

19

Meanwhile, according to Kandel, Lem continued to write philo­

sophical essays using the cybernetic perspective to examine the cul­

tural impact and moral implications of advances in modern technology

and science, as well as essays in literary criticism and epistemology,

Although several of Lem's works of fiction have appeared in transla­

tion since this readers theatre presentation, most of his major works

in these areas, with the exceptions of a few brief articles, remain

untranslated for the general reader.

Lem's Works

Lem's prose employs a wide range of tone and genre even in the

relatively small sample available in translation at the time of this 9

production. Kandel remarks:

As an author his range of genres is remarkably broad,

and he is highly innovative too, so that much of his

work is difficult to classify by genre. Still, it

might be useful to apply the following simplifica­

tion and say that Lem has written in basically

three different modes: (1) realistic science fic­

tion, (2) comic-satirical fantasy, and (3) phil-

osophy.

The above division of Lem's work will be adopted in this discus­

sion in order to facilitate comparisons of his books. The short

stories from the anthologies will be excluded from consideration,

since they consist of two Ion Tichy stories from Star Diaries, one

cybernetic fable similar to those in The Cyberiad, and one of the

Pirx the Pilot stories (which falls into the category of realistic

science fiction) from Other Worlds, Other Seas; and one Trurl and

Klapaucius story in View from Another Shore. These stories can be

considered part of the larger collections concerning these characters

and, as such, do not seem to require separate reflection.

20

In the area of realistic science fiction, two books had been

translated by early 1978: Solaris (1961; New York: Berkley Publish­

ing Corporation, 1971), and The Invincible (1964; New York: Ace,

1975). Although both books deal with traditional "hard-core"

science fiction themes and methods, they are exceedingly original in

their treatments of them. Le Guin points out some of the most impor­

tant differences between the two and a striking similarity, in her

review of The Invincible:

. . . Solaris is, at first glance anyway, a rather

forbidding book; while Invincible is an irresistable

one. Solaris is allusive, elusive, ironic, complex;

Invincible is straightforward, active, a classic

adventure in the technological mode. Solaris is

introverted. Invincible extraverted. But they are,

in their very different ways and weights, about the

same thing.

But what exactly are the two books about? Solaris centers on a

young psychologist, Kris Kelvin, who is sent to the research satellite,

Solaris. Something has gone badly awry, leaving only two survivors.

What Kelvin confronts there is a deep mystery, in many ways a psycho­

logical and psychic labyrinth, as he eventually discovers that the

planet itself has achieved sentience through its ocean and is seeking

knowledge through manipulations of the survivors and Kelvin: a situ­

ation which has driven the majority of the personnel there into mad­

ness and death. The story is told with great beauty, poetry, and

psychological depth, although no clear resolution is presented.

The pattern of Solaris is typical of Lem: an awesome mystery is

presented; various theories are advanced concerning the nature of the

mystery; the protagonist, often facing physical hardship, attempts to

solve the mystery; and finally, the protagonist confronts the mystery,

not necessarily gaining resolution, but receiving an intuitive insight

into both the enigma and the human condition:

21

It is as if the door were flung open and we, expect­

ing a terribly inhuman face, beheld instead our own

reflection in a mirror."'"

This pattern also holds true in The Invincible, although this

novel is more typical of traditional interstellar adventure. On its

face. The Invincible is the story of an expedition sent to a planet to

discover why the first landing party did not return. The expedition

must eventually piece together an entire history and evolution of the

planet, which, strangely enough, has taken a cybernetic turn. Kandel's

first experience with Lem's work was with this book, while he was a

graduate student; he found the book absorbing, challenging, and sur­

prising in many ways. Writing of his expectations for a neat con­

clusion which explained everything, he says:

It did not turn out that way. Not only did the

Earthmen have to beat an ignominious retreat . . .

but the brilliant hypothesis that "explained every­

thing" turned out to be, finally, no answer. Lem's 14 answer was, rather: Look within. Reflect.

A third novel. The Investigation (1959, 1969; New York: Avon,

1976) is similar in structure, but is not clearly science fiction.

Lt. Gregory of Scotland Yard investigates a number of cases which may

be anything from bodysnatching to resurrections. Numerous possibili­

ties for solutions are presented, but no clear answer is given. Lem

encourages his reader to seek within himself for possibilities beyond

the physical realities of this world.

These three books, two clearly in the science fiction category

and one very similar, comprise Lem's realistic science fiction avail­

able in April, 1978.

More of Lem's available works fall into the mode of comic-

satirical fantasies: The Star Diaries (New York: Avon, 1977); The

Futurological Congress (1971; New York: Avon, 1976); Memoirs Found in

22

a Bathtub (1961; New York: Avon, 1976); The Cyberiad (1967, 1972; New

York: Avon, 1976), and Mortal Engines (1971-76; New York: The Seabury

Press, 1977).

Lem's most frequently translated work is The Star Diaries, which

began appearing in 1954. Lem continues to add to the cycle, with the

last expanded edition published in 1971. The stories deal with an

incredible variety of adventures and misadventures of a cosmic

traveller. Ion Tichy, and feature the grotesque humor which is so much

a part of The Cyberiad. When examined chronologically, the stories

illustrate Lem's gradual blurring of modes as they move, over the

course of time, from "playful anecdote to pointed satire to outright

philosophy."

Tichy is also the protagonist of The Futurological Congress. In

many ways, this is an extended "star diary," but takes place on Earth

rather than in space or on another planet. The Congress itself takes

place in Costa Rica, where revolution is raging, complete with

chemical warfare; Love Thy Neighbor bombs fall like rain, and the

drinking water may contain virtually any psycho-chemical depending on

who has control of the given situation. Tichy travels through a deep

sleep into the era of "chemocracy," where everyone gets just what he

wants aided by hallucinogenic drugs. The book follows the typical Lem

pattern, but in a comic mode: Tichy finds himself first in an incom­

prehensible revolution, then almost instantly (in his psychological

perceptions) in the chemocracy; he faces certain physical dangers as

he tries to make sense of what is happening, including jabs from an

umbrella as an antidote to a particular drug; but in the end, Tichy's

resolution is one that the reader must find within himself.

Memoirs Found in a Bathtub also contains elements of this formula.

When a virus threatens to destroy all paper, American bureaucracy

moves to a hermetically-sealed underground structure. "The Building"

is a nest of espionage and intrigue against an enemy which cannot be

empirically proven. The protagonist confronts this situation and tries

to infuse it with logic, braving the perils of a bureaucracy gone mad

as he tries to discover his mission. The people he encounters seem

23

to know what he is to do, but will give him no idea what it is,

although he is continually outwitting and being outwitted it seems.

Finally driven into madness by this insane system, he commits suicide.

Even though there are numerous incidents of wild satire. Memoirs is

perhaps the grimmest of Lem's novels.

Returning to satire somewhat lighter in mood. The Cyberiad con­

cerns the rival cybernetic constructors, Trurl and Klapaucius, and

their creations. Although robots themselves, the constructors are

highly complex, sophisticated, self-programming organisms. This

complexity assures consciousness, and this consciousness is, in turn,

unique and irreplaceable: if anything should happen to destroy Trurl

and Klapaucius, they would never exist again, just as if they were

truly of the human race. Consciousness is at the heart of the matter

for Lem: a conscious machine has both the same rights and the same

responsibilities as conscious man. This idea is the basis for ethics

in Lem's work, enabling his robots to project characters that are both

cybernetic and human. Kandel comments:

Time and again Lem departs for the alien and

the nonhuman, and we follow him only to find that

humanity was the destination all along. Which does

not mean that the sense of strangeness is lost. On

the contrary, by taking the extraterrestrial or

cybernetic route Lem has opened our eyes anew to

the Mysteries of the human condition. But those

Mysteries have always been there, writers and

philosophers have fretted over them for generations.

. . . And therefore we are drawn to read his tales

of robots not literally but as parables. . . .

However, to treat Lem's cybernetics in these

stories as a literary vehicle, as purely figurative,

seems somehow unsatisfying, too ordinary; it ignores

the fact that there is a framework of very real

science (or rather, of very real scientific

24

speculation) behind what the characters do and

say. . . .

The objection might be raised here that one

cannot have it both ways: either Lem's robots are

to be taken literally, in which case the above

remarks on cybernetics have pertinence, or the

robots are merely novel and entertaining projec­

tions of ourselves, of age-old human problems, in

which case most of this . . . is quite beside the

point. My own feeling is that in literature one

not only can have it both ways, but often must.

This duality of Lem's robots implies the question at the crux of

this thesis: can such characters be presented in such a way so that

the audience perceives both sides of their natures, machine and

human? A more thorough examination of this question will be found in

Chapters III and IV, discussing the evolution of the production.

Many of the same comments apply to the final book in this second

category. Mortal Engines. It contains more of Lem's robot stories,

although Trurl and Klapaucius do not appear. The stories bear many

similarities to The Cyberiad, being fables and tales about and perhaps

even for cybernetic organisms. There is the same kind of wit and

verbal play with glimpses of the more serious undertones inherent in

Lem's approach to cybernetics. Again, the characters are afforded the

same rights as a truly human, responsible man.

Thus, Lem's range, even within the same type of mode, in this

case, the comic-satirical fantasy, varies from the light, playful

anecdotes of the early Tichy to the stark madness of Memoirs Found in

a_ Bathtub.

In the third category of philosophy, virtually nothing is avail­

able in translation. Kandel, however, summarizes some of the main

points of Dialogues (1957, expanded 1972) in his introduction to

Mortal En

inferred:

Mortal Engines. Based on that summary, the following points can be

25

1. Man can be duplicated atom for atom, but his

consciousness cannot be; therefore, individual con­

sciousness is the one thing that is irreplaceable

and unrepeatable.

2. This consciousness is all the more fragile since

it can so easily be terminated by a vast, indif­

ferent, random Universe; therefore, consciousness,

not life, is sacred.

3. When a machine is sufficiently complex to develop

consciousness, it becomes the equal of the conscious

man and acquires the same privileges and obligations;

therefore, the creator of a conscious machine can no

longer consider such a machine his property, and it

becomes an autonomous being.

Other than this summary, and a few isolated mentions of untrans­

lated titles, none of Lem's major philosophical writings are available

in translation in the United States at this time. It must be empha­

sized again, however, that the distinctions between the three modes

are very loose and that virtually every work contains elements of all

three. As Kandel puts it:

There is fiction in his nonfiction; there is non-

fiction in his fiction. Mythos and Logos alternate

so frequently with Lem, that they are inextricable 18 one from the other.

These diverse factors tend to create an exciting challenge for

the performer of literature. Language used in any of the three modes

may be dense, not only in unfamiliar scientific terminology and

description, but also in philosophical depth and psychological

experience. Conveying these elements to an audience relies on a com­

plex layering of factors to hold the audience member's attention and

to motivate his reflection.

26

Lem uses a number of techniques to ensure his reader's attention

to his themes. The following section will examine those themes and

techniques in more detail.

Lem's Major Themes and Techniques

While Lem writes in a wide variety of styles and modes, he tends

to focus on a few basic ideas. Kandel sums up Lem's work:

. . . his various works are frequently intercon­

nected; themes, situations, even plots are repeated.

The overall impression one gets in reading Lem . . .

is that he is a writer of great diversity of style

and yet one who examines (or is haunted by, or both) 19

only a few fundamental ideas.

One of Lem's recurring themes is: the Laws of Nature are vile

in their senselessness, because intelligent beings are inevitably

made to suffer and die; consciousness, therefore, implies suffering.

This theme is perhaps more obvious in works such as Solaris and The

Invincible, than in the three stories from The Cyberiad chosen for

this reading.

Yet, this theme has a corollary: the cybernetic creation of

intelligence brings great guilt on the part of the creator, since

consciousness, inherent in intelligence, implies suffering. In each

of the three tales, Trurl, and eventually Klapaucius as well, must

face the consequences for Trurl's creation of the machines. This

topic will be discussed in more detail in the next section of this

paper.

Another common motif is the innocence of Lem's robots. In

writing of one of Lem's human heroes, Kandel states that he has a 20

"civilized heart." Throughout Lem's robot stories, the robot is

seen as a victim of man, as more human, and humane, than man himself.

This quality is seen in Trurl and Klapaucius to some extent. There

is no real malice in their ideas, although they are not above envy.

27

and the regret they feel when things get out of hand is real. The

regret is not so much for themselves and their reputations, in the

final analysis, as for the loss of the worches, pritons, and zits.

Lem also emphasizes the impossibility of a final solution. Again,

this emphasis is perhaps more obvious in Solaris, The Invincible, and

The Investigation, but these fables touch upon it. Each one of

Trurl's machines creates more problems than it solves, giving rise to

situations that demand new solutions: there is no final answer.

Last, Lem returns again and again to man's confrontation and

adjustment to "alien" forms of intelligence and society. The best and

most obvious examples are yet again Solaris and The Invincible, but

some of the stories from Star Diaries, as well as some aspects of The

Investigation, mirror this concern. It might even be said that Trurl

and Klapaucius cope with alien forms of intelligence as they confront

each new machine.

These ideas: that consciousness is suffering and that the

cybernetic creation of that consciousness brings guilt; that robots

are basically innocent and, in many ways, more human than man; that

no final solution is possible; and that man will confront and adjust

to new forms of sentience and society, seem to be the principle ones

in Lem's prose. The Cyberiad clearly reflects these preoccupations

in its own way.

Reasons for Choosing The Cyberiad Selections

As mentioned above, the three selections chosen from The Cyberiad

reflect most of Lem's major themes. This reflection of themes was

one reason for their use in this readers theatre, but there are addi­

tional reasons.

The three tales, "Trurl's Machine," "Trurl's Electronic Bard,"

and "How the World Was Saved," are basically the same story, told in

slightly different fashion, and thus mirror Lem's return to the same

themes, plots, and situations. At its most simple level, each story

consists of Trurl's construction of a machine, the disruption/

destruction which results from that creation, and the means for

28

averting total disaster, although some form of payment is exacted.

Lem's variety of treatments give freshness to the situation each time.

For the production, the stories are rearranged from their pub­

lished order to move from the broader, farcical "Trurl's Machine" to

the more refined, verbal "Trurl's Electronic Bard" to the more subtle,

cosmic "How the World Was Saved." This arrangement leads from a per­

sonal threat against Trurl to a disruption of society at large to a

possibility of universal destruction. In addition, the language of

each piece suggests a slightly different style of presentation.

"Trurl's Machine" uses fairly simple language and syntax, with its

descriptions suggesting the broader movements of slapstick: "It's

seven! Say it's seven or I'll hit you!" The writing in the second

piece employs more technical terms and more elegant sentence structure

suitable to a more restrained approach than used for "Trurl's

Machine": "In Riemann, Hilbert, or in Banach space/ Let superscripts

and subscripts go their ways." The style of the third tale, "How the

World Was Saved," implies very little movement, but a great deal of

imaginative involvement as pieces of the constructors' universe dis­

appear forever: " . . . the machine was in actual fact doing Nothing,

and it did it in this fashion: one by one, various things were

removed from the world, and the things, thus removed, ceased to

exist, as if they had never been. The machine had already disposed

of nolars, nightzebs, noes, necs, nallyrakers, neotremes and non-

malrigers. . . . " Thus, the fables afford the chance to use three

slightly different approaches to interpretation within the same per­

formance, as the pieces move from the most physical to the most

mental. This movement also provides a way for the audience members

to "ease" into Lem's works, which may be difficult to understand

because of terminology and psychological density.

The stories, therefore, chosen for their convergence of themes,

repetition of motifs and situations, and logical progression, were

designed to give the audience a brief glimpse of as many aspects of

Lem's writing as possible in such a short production.

29

Summary

This chapter has examined, not only the problems of working with

literature in translation, but also Lem's principle works available in

translation in the United States in the spring of 1978 and their

primary themes and motifs. Finally, some considerations in choosing

the particular fables presented were discussed. Chapter III will look

at the process involved in making those choices and in developing a

script, assembling a cast, and beginning initial group work with that

script.

30

1

2

3

Notes for Chapter II

Roloff, Perception and Evocation, p. 16.

Roloff, Perception and Evocation, p. 18.

Paul Schmidt, "Literature in Translation," Address, University of Texas, Austin, June 11, 1974.

4 James Blish, "A Surfeit of Lem, Please?", Foundation, 4 (July

1973), p. 96.

Ursula K. Le Guin, "European SF: Rottensteiner's Anthology, the Strugatskys, and Lem," Science-Fiction Studies, 1 (Spring 1974), p. 185.

Le Guin, p. 182.

The majority of the available biographical information about Lem comes from his collection Mortal Engines, trans. Michael Kandel (New York: The Seabury Press, 1977), pp. xv-xvi; although some is from Darko Suvin, ed., Other Worlds, Other Seas (New York: Berkley Medallion Books, 1970), pp. 39-40.

Q

Four stories can be found in Suvin, pp. 40-106; one is con­tained in Franz Rottensteiner, ed.. View From Another Shore (New York: Jove Publications, Inc., 1978), pp. 21-67.

9 Since April of 1978, a number of Lem's books have appeared,

including The Chain of Chance, trans. Louis Iribarne (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1979); The Cosmic Carnival of Stanislaw Lem, trans, and ed. Michael Kandel (New York: Continuum Publishing Corporation, 1981); Memoirs of a Space Traveller, trans. Joel Stem and Maria Sweicicka-Zielmianek (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1982); More Tales of Pirx the Pilot, trans. Louis Iribarne (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1981); A Perfect Vacuum, trans. Michael Kandel (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1979); Return from the Stars, trans. Barbara Marzal and Frank Simpson (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1980); and Tales of Pirx the Pilot, trans. Louis Iribarne (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1979).

Lem, Mortal Engines, pp. xvi-xvii.

Date of the original publication is given first, followed by information about an edition available in the United States.

12 Le Guin, p. 183.

31

13

Lem, Cosmic Carnival, p. 2.

Lem, Mortal Engines, p. xxi.

14

Lem, Star Diaries, p. 320.

Lem, Mortal Engines, pp. xxi-xxii.

Lem, Mortal Engines, pp. xx-xxi.

18 Lem, Cosmic Carnival, p. 250.

19 Lem, Mortal Engines, p. xvii.

20 Lem, Cosmic Carnival, p. 45.

32

CHAPTER III

CONFRONTATION, MEDITATION, CONTROL AND RECOGNITION OF THE STRUCTURAL DYNAMICS OF THE LITERATURE

The outline of qualitative problem-solving found in Roloff's

textbook was utilized as a general approach to formulating the pro­

duction. This process includes the steps of: 1) confrontation;

2) meditation; 3) control; 4) recognition of structural dynamics;

5) exploration; and 6) completion.

This chapter will first discuss the initial four steps prior to

assembling the cast and then the mechanics of establishing that cast.

Finally, the involvement of the group in the qualitative problem-

solving process will be examined.

Director's Role: Confrontation

Perhaps one of the most difficult decisions facing any inter­

preter/director is the choice of script for performance. Many factors

influence the final selection. This section will examine those

factors which led to this particular script of The Cyberiad.

As a point of departure, the broad field of science (or specu­

lative) fiction was chosen, for three main reasons. First, science

fiction, when well-written, is ideally suited to readers theatre,

since it often presents vivid scenes in strange or unusual circum­

stances coupled with memorable characters and thought-provoking 2

ideas. A prime example of this is Dune by Frank Herbert. This

novel, part of a longer series, focuses on Paul Atreides and his rise

to power among the fremen of the desert on the sandy world of Arrakis.

From the description of the coming of the giant sand-worms to that of

the funeral rites among the fremen, Herbert's prose is masterful and

moving, an example of excellent writing. Herbert manages to examine

the nature of power and its ability to corrupt as well.

33

The second and third reasons were of a more practical nature. Due

to the concurrent popularity of the movie Star Wars, science fiction

was seen as a good box office risk.

Finally, the director, intrigued for several years by the literary

creation of metaworlds dissimilar to the contemporary world, had a

good personal backgroimd in reading and working with science fiction

of a more speculative nature.

Given science fiction as a starting point, a set of three essen­

tial, and one desirable, criteria were developed for selecting litera­

ture. Because of her own interest in metaworlds, the director first

established that the literature must present imaginatively an

interesting world or society, whose characters retained enough

basically human motivations to enable the readers and audience to

respond easily to them and their situations.

Second, the situation the characters faced must be, not only

interesting, but also a means of understanding the characters them­

selves, their motivations, and their society. This consideration was

also related to the idea of audience and reader responsiveness.

Third, the language of the work also needed to be intriguing

aurally through syntax, style, rhythm, and/or poetic quality. These

qualities were deemed especially important for readers theatre, which

features narration as well as dialogue.

These three characteristics seemed essential. In addition, the

director preferred to work with material which featured humor and/or

a slightly off-beat approach. These elements seem to provide addi­

tional challenge for the readers, as well as encouraging an experi­

mental approach to the material.

With these ideas in mind, the director began reviewing science

fiction novels and short stories in order to prepare a script. About

the same time she happened to read Lem's Memoirs Found in a_ Bathtub

for pleasure. The author's style showed promise in the areas con­

sidered essential for the production. The following of Lem's books

were eventually considered: four novels. The Investigation, Solaris,

34

The Invincible, and The Futurological Congress; and two short story

collections. The Star Diaries and The Cyberiad.

Director's Role: Meditation

At this point there were seven options for a script. Each of the

seven contained the three essential elements: an intriguing metaworld

with interesting characters whose behavior offered insight into both

their own and general human motivations, told in richly descriptive

language. In addition, all but two, Solaris and The Invincible, con­

tained at least flashes of humor, although that humor was often grim.

However, practical considerations ruled out all except two of the

books.

The novels presented a common problem in cutting. Given a time

limit of 30-40 minutes for this readers theatre production, the

director felt that the novels as a group were too complex to be edited

in a fashion which would retain their essential qualities. Memoirs

Found in a_ Bathtub, as a typical example, would lose many of the

incidents which contribute to the protagonist's growing sense of

frustration and futility. In light of these cuts, his suicide would

be both abrupt and diminished in meaning, leaving the audience merely

puzzled rather than thoughtful. This same type of problem was also

inherent in The Investigation, The Invincible, and Solaris.

Solaris, the book most readily accessible to the average reader

through bookstores at that time, had also been made into a theatrical

film. This film might have interfered with obtaining the rights to

use Solaris for readers theatre.

As well as presenting problems in cutting. The Futurological

Congress depended on the very subjective experiences of a first-person

narrator which seemed to suggest either a solo reading or a prominent

reader backed by a small chorus. After reviewing the available

readers, their abilities, and their other commitments in terms of

classes and work schedules, the director decided that focusing on a

more equally-distributed ensemble approach would be wiser at that par­

ticular time and reluctantly ruled out The Futurological Congress.

35

These decisions left two options: The Star Diaries and The Cyber­

iad. Diaries also used a first person narrator, but could be arranged

for an ensemble. Most of the available readers, however, would be

facing their first performance outside the classroom in this produc­

tion. Given this inexperience, the use of first-person narration by

an ensemble might be better handled by a more experienced group.

The Cyberiad also held lures of its own, rather than simply being

what was left. Many of the stories were bright, witty, and humorous,

although often with a thought-provoking message. Trurl was a strong

protagonist with interesting foils in Klapaucius and their creations.

Each character was capable of observing and commenting on the action

from his point of view. This combination seemed quite suitable

to the ensemble approach intended. Additionally, the fact that both

constructors and creations were mechanical presented a problem of

duality: could human readers present both the alien aspects of the

constructors and their society while also emphasizing their very human

motivations?

Director's Role: Determination of Control and Structural Dynamics

This section will look at the reasons for choosing the three

stories used in this readers theatre presentation and review the

rationale for their arrangement. There are fifteen tales in The

Cyberiad. Two of these stories, "Tale of Three Storytelling Machines

of King Genius" and "Altruizine" are rather long and were eliminated

by the decision to try to showcase several of Lem's diverse styles and

modes. A third story, "Prince Ferrix and the Princess Crystal," is

not a Trurl and Klapaucius story and was not considered further after

the focus on the constructors' activities was chosen as a key point

in the scripting process. "The Fourth Sally, or How Trurl Built a

Femfatalatron to Save Prince Pantagoon from the Pangs of Love, and

How Later He Resorted to a Cannonade of Babies" and "The Fifth Sally

(A), or Trurl's Prescription" were discarded for a similar reason,

since Klapaucius does not appear in either story.

36

The remaining stories fall into two basic groups: those in which

Trurl and Klapaucius work together to solve a social problem or to

extricate themselves from an extreme danger, and those in which their

creations get out of control and have to be corrected. In the first

group is "The First Sally, or The Trap of Gargantius," in which the

constructors bring about peace between two hostile kingdoms through

an ingenious method. "The Second Sally, or The Offer of King Krool"

is the story of how the pair devise an unusual quarry for the hunter-

king by having the beast kidnap King Krool and hold him for ransom,

saving their own lives. "The Sixth Sally, or How Trurl and Klapaucius

Created a Demon of the Second Kind to Defeat the Pirate Pugg," relates

how the two friends build a machine which can divine the knowledge of

the ages from random collisions of air molecules to satisfy an

insatiable wish for information by the pirate with a Ph.D., thereby

ridding the universe of Pugg's terrorizations when he is engulfed by

the vast quantities of paper printed out by the demon.

A variation of this category is found in "The Third Sally, or

The Dragons of Probability." Trurl devises a set of equations deal­

ing with the relative probability and improbability of dragons, but

someone else uses this information to cause dragons to begin appearing,

and then to extort vast sxims to make the dragons disappear. Obviously,

Trurl and Klapaucius must rescue society from such an assault.

In the second group besides the three stories ultimately selected,

is "The Fifth Sally, or The Mischief of King Balerion," in which a

personality transfer device constructed by Trurl causes havoc in the

hands of a fun-loving king whose passion is hide-and-seek. "The

Seventh Sally, or How Trurl's Own Perfection Led to No Good" relates

how Trurl proves himself such a good constructor that he not only

simulates a kingdom for a despotic exiled king, but unwittingly cre­

ates that kingdom and its inhabitants, causing untold misery. A final

story, "A Good Shellacking," falls into neither category. In it,

Trurl's creation brings misery primarily to himself, at the hands of

Klapaucius.

37

Having elected to feature the two constructors, the decision was

made to focus on their creations becoming an opposing force. The

three stories chosen for the script are the only ones which present

Trurl's creations with distinctive personalities. Given these per­

sonalities, a choral relationship for the machine/narrators as

opposed to the two constructors as individuals becomes possible.

Thus, these three stories were selected.

Once the fables were chosen, the order in which they appeared in

the book did not seem appropriate for this presentation. That order

gives no clear impression of a beginning or an ending, since "How the

World Was Saved" was followed by "Trurl's Machine" and "The First

Sally (A), or Trurl's Electronic Bard." Therefore, some other

arrangement had to be achieved for the production to have a sense of

drmaatic unity.

First, part of "The Trap of Gargantius" was lifted and slightly

adapted to provide a less abrupt opening for the show. This paragraph

was followed by "Trurl's Machine." As mentioned elsewhere in this

thesis, this story is broadest in tone and nature, as Trurl and

Klapaucius flee from the "stupidest thinking machine that ever was."

The language is fairly simple and easy to understand, providing

opportunities for extensive, farcical movement. This use of action

and relatively familiar language was intended to help the audience

"ease" into the production, hopefully encouraging them to keep listen­

ing during the less simplistic stories that were to follow. Trurl

emerges from the encounter self-assured and still almost cocky,

although the machine has the last word.

The next selection chosen was "Trurl's Electronic Bard." In it,

the language becomes more sophisticated and less familiar, delving

into the sciences and mathematics. Action, however, can still be used

to help clarify these aspects, such as the Bard's flirtatious delivery

of the mathematical love poem. Trurl learns a little more from this

encounter, resolving never to create another cybernetic model of any

of the Arts.

38

The final story selected was "How the World Was Saved." Although

the language used is relatively simple in structure, some terms, such

as "pritons" and "worches," must be defined by the listener's imagina­

tion, calling forth perhaps the greatest mental involvement of the

entire production. Suggestions for movement are fairly limited,

reflecting the serious nature of the conflict within the story. At

the end, Trurl, and Klapaucius as well, have to face an important

truth: they are responsible for their acts and their creations, no

matter how unwittingly they may have behaved. The cocky Trurl of

"Trurl's Machine" has given way to a more thoughtful, and hopefully

wiser, constructor.

Director's Role: Assembling the Cast

With the selection of this general script, casting was the next

step necessary. Tryouts were held in conjunction with Linda Milam

Vancil, who was casting _I Remember Will, a production associated with

her thesis. The two shows would run in tandem over four days, each

with two afternoon and two evening performances, one performance of

each show each day. Since most of the anticipated audiences would be

students, this procedure was instituted to give more flexibility to

those who had work, class, or other commitments.

Notices about the tryouts were posted in prominent locations

around campus. In addition, announcements were made in all oral

interpretation classes, as well as in other speech classes. Since the

tryouts would be limited to one night, the two directors also indi­

cated that those who were unable to attend the tryouts should contact

either of the two directors or Dr. Vera Simpson for additional read­

ings.

At the tryouts, readers were asked to provide basic information

such as name, address, telephone number, previous experience, and hours

available for rehearsal. They were also asked to indicate their pref­

erence of script and whether they would be willing to work on the

other script, if chosen for it rather than the one they preferred.

Then the readers were given material from both _I Remember Will and

39

The Cyberiad, and a chance to look over the material. The two direc­

tors and Dr. Simpson listened to the readers singly and in varying

groups of two, three, and sometimes more. The readers were then

dismissed after being told where they could find the lists of those

chosen when they were posted the following day. The directors and

Dr. Simpson, who had been asked to observe the tryouts in an advisory

capacity, discussed what they had seen and heard. None of the readers

had indicated that they would be unwilling to work on either show.

(Most of the readers were familiar to the two directors, either from

past experience working together or from classes.) The directors had

very different directing styles, which were considered with respect

to the prospective cast members, since these productions were also

designed to be learning experiences for readers, as well as directors.

Readers were chosen who would be compatible with each director's

style. Some readers were "naturals" for one show or the other.

Vancil, for example, needed a reader who was not only comfortable in

western attire, but who also could do roping tricks for her Will

Rogers role, so she used the reader who demonstrated those qualities

most admirably at the tryouts. Considering these kinds of factors,

the two directors worked together to select their casts. Eventually,

three readers were chosen for I Remember Will and five for The

Cyberiad. Notices were posted giving the cast lists and information

regarding the first rehearsal.

The five readers initially chosen for The Cyberiad presented an

interesting group in terms of experience. One reader was a "veteran,"

in every sense of the word, in the field of readers theatre; another

had extensive experience with oral interpretation and with group work

for festivals, but had not appeared in a university production for

the general public; the third had worked throughout high school with

oral interpretation, had taken a college level class in the subject,

and had done some group work for festivals; the fourth had some

experience with acting, but was new to the field of readers theatre;

and the fifth had taken the introductory class in oral interpretation,

but was a complete novice in the area of public performance. Due to

40

university scheduling, the cast would have only five weeks for

rehearsal, with a week of holidays for Spring Break between weeks

three and four; the show would open on Thursday of week five. The

mixture of experience levels was seen as a definite advantage while

working with such an unusual and tight rehearsal schedule. Further,

the director was thoroughly familiar with most of the cast. She had

worked with the two most experienced readers in varying capacities

many times in the past, one since high school and the other since

both had become involved in oral interpretation at Texas Tech five

years previously. She had met the third reader soon after the reader

came to campus and had worked with her at various times during the

two years which had elapsed. The director had also been the labora­

tory instructor for the least experienced reader's section of the

introductory oral interpretation class. Thus, the director was a

stranger to only one member of the cast, the actor. Since this

director generally uses a group-oriented approach to directing,

feeling that cast members learn more from the experience when they

are actively involved in the decision-making processes involved as a

production takes shape, and that they may develop deeper insights into

their roles when participating in those processes, this familiarity

was seen as an advantage in the quick establishment of working rela­

tionships for this production, especially since rehearsal time would

be so short.

Once the readers had been chosen, schedules were examined to

determine the most convenient time for rehearsals. The rehearsal

schedule was also coordinated with Vancil, since both shows needed to

use the same facilities. At the first rehearsal, the hours were

cleared by the cast members, with adaptations made as necessary.

Having assembled a script and group of readers, the director was

ready at last to begin the task of meshing those materials into the

final production form through the process of group involvement in the

steps of qualitative problem-solving.

41

Group Process: Confrontation

The procedure of confrontation was allotted the first four

rehearsals. At first, the cast was given the script and allowed to

read through it, silently and then aloud, but no lines were assigned

for the first three rehearsals. Readers were allowed to read any line

they wished as they occurred for three basic reasons: since some of

the readers had not worked in readers theatre/group productions

before, this technique introduced the idea of anticipating and pick­

ing up cues from other readers, as well as encouraging the entire

cast to approach the reading with spontaneity; second, the different

types of characters and lines chosen by each reader gave the director

a better idea about physical and vocal quality and range; last, by the

third rehearsal, certain readers were tending to take specific lines

and/or characters in each read-through, which let the director know

which readers were developing the deepest empathic response to which

characters. This knowledge was useful in developing the final line

assignments.

At this point, a personnel problem arose. One of the more

experienced readers was forced to leave the cast due to a family

emergency which would prohibit her from approaching the production

with adequate time for rehearsal and with her complete concentration.

Given the work already done by the rest of the cast, the decision was

made to continue with the character assignments chosen based on the

first three rehearsals and to seek a replacement for the departing

reader, rather than proceeding with four readers.

During the fourth rehearsal, the readers were given their charac­

ter assignments and told to read any dialogue belonging to that char­

acter and any description which seemed to belong to that character,

based upon tone or attitude. If it was unclear which character might

say any particular phrase, the readers were to continue their previous

practice from the first three rehearsals. Until a fifth reader could

be found, the director read the lines of dialogue which would be

assigned to that reader, avoiding a characterization as much as pos­

sible. At this point, the group was experiencing their initial

42

confrontation with their roles, but they were also beginning to move

into the process of meditation and determination of controls within

the script as a whole.

The four readers were cast in the following manner. Trurl^

would be played by the actor, while Klapaucius would be read by the

most experienced reader. Physically and vocally, the two provided a

marked and potentially humorous contrast to each other. Trurl^ was

quite tall and slender, with very curly blond hair and fair coloring,

while Klapaucius was short and heavy-set, with very straight black

hair, and a continual heavy five-o'clock shadow. Vocally, Trurl^ had

a voice that was lighter in quality and tone compared to the deeper,

and darker, Klapaucius's. These contrasts were expected to enhance

the grotesque humor of the selections.

"Trurl's Machine" would be read by the most novice reader. His

voice and build seemed potentially best for suggesting both the

aggression and stubbornness of that machine. Although his initial

read-throughs tended to be somewhat inhibited, as novice readers often

are, he also showed the potential for growth which would enable him

to handle the role successfully in the director's opinion.

"The Electronic Bard" would be read by the remaining female. She

was experienced enough to handle the machine's development as Trurl

"tinkers," exhibiting a variety of characterizations through voice and

posture, while thoroughly enjoying herself.

This assignment left the role of the machine in "How the World Was

Saved" vacant. The director and Dr. Simpson set about recruiting a

suitable reader. This reader turned out to be a novice female who

joined the cast two rehearsals later. Although she had missed the

initial confrontation rehearsals and had very little experience, she

quickly immersed herself in her work and began trying to develop

empathy with her machine, working well with the director and other

readers.

Although the fifth reader had not yet joined the cast, the

director and four readers moved from the confrontation of the

43

literature into the phase of meditation concerning the literature and

the determination of literary controls.

Group Process: Meditation and Control

The cast was now becoming fairly familiar with the script as a

whole. The next task was to determine line assignments and to start

the group thinking about why the stories were told as they were and

why they were arranged in the order that they appeared. For the next

three rehearsals, the group spent the first 20-30 minutes discussing

the stories. Questions were answered about unfamiliar terminology

and procedures within the stories, about characterizations based on

other stories in The Cyberiad, and about production-related matters

in general; all cast members were strongly encouraged to read the

entire book. The group was questioned to encourage their own think­

ing and discussing the stories. Through this process of providing

extra information and asking pertinent questions, the cast members

gradually discovered for themselves the ever-widening scope of Trurl's

misadventures from personal to cosmic, as well as started to see a

number of parallels among the three stories.

The second part of each rehearsal, an hour to an hour-and-a-half,

was devoted to the process of developing line assignments. This

process was largely in the hands of the cast after general guidelines

had been presented at the fourth rehearsal, although that should not

be taken to mean that the director was uninvolved. She had set up

the guidelines and now moderated the discussions during the process,

suggested new directions when the proceedings became mired, helped

with particularly difficult sections, and arbitrated concerning

especially-coveted lines. In addition, she decided which lines would

use the chorus of machines and how they would be arranged, as well as

eventually re-assigning some lines which simply did not "work" as

originally assigned. At each of these stages, the director presented

her reasons for her decisions, encouraging the cast to ask questions

and to present opposing views if they felt they were valid.

44

One of the director's goals, as previously mentioned, was to

enable the cast members, particularly those with less experience, to

learn as much as possible about the internal processes involved in

oral interpretation and in readers theatre. This somewhat unorthodox

method of hashing out line assignments was seen as a means of immers­

ing the cast in the process of the literature and of helping the newer

readers learn that there should be a reason for everything that is

done in oral interpretation and readers theatre. Although the less-

experienced readers seemed somewhat quiet at first, they soon began

expressing their opinions and, after some encouragement from other

group members, the reasons for those opinions. The director felt

that she had been somewhat successful in her goals when she began to

hear coiranents from her less-experienced readers such as, "I don't

think my machine would say that—it's out of character. It seems more

like the Bard's line to me. What does that do to the interpretation?"

During these discussions, the following guidelines for line

assignment gradually emerged:

1. All dialogue would be read by the pertinent character.

2. All narration relating to thoughts and feelings would be

read by the character concerned.

3. Narration about overt actions might be read by either of

the narrators from the machine chorus or by the character

concerned, depending on the attitude involved and/or the

aurality of the line and the vocal qualities implied.

4. Choral lines would be assigned to add emphasis and to

enhance the psychological perception of the machine/

narrators and their relationship to the constructors.

5. Occasional variations from the above might be permitted,

in order to aid pacing and tone.

Group Process: Recognition of Structural Dynamics

During the rehearsals concerning line assignments, the idea of

structural dynamics was introduced. This concept had been mentioned

at one of the discussions preceding work on line assignments, when it

45

was explained to the cast that the stories were chosen for their simi­

larities and for the progression from personal danger to cosmic threat.

At that point the readers seemed to accept this concept on an intel­

lectual level.

Once lines were assigned and traditional rehearsals began, how­

ever, the readers tended to treat the three fables as three separate

entities rather than as segments of a larger whole. The director

tried to counteract this reaction by re-emphasizing the progression

of pace and tone within the stories and by helping the readers see

the similarities in structure within the stories. Although the actual

readings did not reflect any major changes immediately, the readers

began to demonstrate their awareness of these factors later when the

group began to design the set, costumes, and blocking. At that

point, suggestions from the readers were made in terms of "emphasiz­

ing the machines' relationships with each other," "showing Trurl's

loss of dominance," and "helping the audience understand how the

stories all fit together." Thus, the director felt that there was a

growing awareness of structural dynamics as the rehearsals progressed.

Summary

Chapter III has examined the search for suitable literature, as

well as the initial analysis of the literature. Then, the cast was

assembled and exposed to the literature and the process of literary

analysis. The next chapter will focus on the exploration phase of

rehearsals, as the readers worked on the areas of the set, charac­

terizations, blocking, and costuming. An explanation of the lighting

will also be presented.

46

1

2

1977).

Notes for Chapter III

Roloff, Perception and Evocation, pp. 23-24.

Frank Herbert, Dune (New York: Berkley Publishing Corporation,

3 a Two readers rehearsed the role of Trurl. Trurl will be used

to designate the reader originally assigned the role. Due to intense personal pressures, this reader left the role only a few days before the show opened. At this point, the director took over the role due to the short time available to prepare for the production, becoming Trurl°.

CHAPTER IV

EXPLORATION OF THE LITERATURE

All writing, all composition, is construction. We

do not imitate the world, we construct versions of

it. There is no mimesis, only poiesis. No record­

ing. Only constructing.

In this chapter, those elements, in conjunction with the litera­

ture itself, most immediately involved in helping the audience member

construct his own personal version of the world of Trurl and

Klapaucius will be scrutinized: the set, the characterizations, the

movement, the costuming, and the lighting.

Group Evolution of the Set

An early goal of this production was to establish some type of

set which could suggest any number of possible locales, while afford­

ing the cast a suitable area in which to work. Since most fables

convey a sense of occurring in a "generic" place at an indefinite

time, this same type of feeling was sought in designing the set.

The exploration began with the discovery of what pieces were

available for use: a number of readers stands and stools, two low

platforms, and several "cubes" of varying sizes. For the next three

nights, the readers were encouraged to try out various arrangements

of these pieces. Although the arrangements differed slightly each

night, the three narrator/machines tended to group themselves

together, with the two constructors, especially Trurl, moving freely

about the set. The final arrangement of pieces reflected this

grouping.

The final setting consisted of a "laboratory"/machine area for

the readers characterizing the constructions, with a base area for

47

48

each of the constructors to either side of this grouping. The largest

box (36"x36"x30") was placed center stage atop the two platforms

(8'x4'x6"), with the platforms extending to either side. On top of

the box, a stool and stand were positioned. One stool and stand were

placed on each platform, also. When blocking showed the cube was too

high for the readers to move onto easily from the platforms, two

smaller cubes (33"x33"x24") were added, one to each side; the stools

and stands for the other two narrator/machines were placed on the

platforms far enough away from the cubes to facilitate easy movement

from platform to box, but close enough toward center stage to retain

a visual sense of unity among the three readers. The platforms were

angled slightly forward.* A small box, out of sight of the audience,

was set behind the large cube so that the readers could move easily

onto the cube during the opening choreography. Two stools, without

stands, were placed about a foot from the ends of the platforms, one

at either side, for the constructors to use.

One cast member designed a backdrop which combined aspects of

spools of computer tapes with a pastel rainbow effect, as if two

computerized eyes watched over the proceedings in a non-threatening

manner. This piece (9'x5') was hung directly behind the center cube

arrangement, allowing room to move behind the boxes and platforms.

The cubes and platforms were then painted to pick up colors from

the backdrop. The sides making up the front of the cube-and-platform

arrangement were painted brown, as were the tops and ends of the

platforms. This color seemed least likely to distract the audience

when used in a large area. The smaller cubes' sides and tops were

painted peach, while the larger cube's were blue to blend with the

overall decor of the room where the show was to be presented.

Although painting of the pieces was not finished until the week

before the show opened, the pieces themselves contributed to the

development of characters and of blocking. The following two sections

of this chapter will examine those areas more closely.

49

Group Evolution of Characters

The evolution of characters and their relationships began in the

initial discussions and read-throughs with emphasis on the cybernetic

nature of the characters. Some cast members thought this meant that

the characters should be played with stilted diction and movements

reminiscent of robots in science fiction movies of the 1950s. The

cast was then encouraged to go beyond such stereotypes and to think

of their roles from different perspectives:

In science fiction, the character need not be a

human being. Science fiction stories have been

written in which the protagonist was a robot, an

alien from another world, a supernatural being, an

animal, or even a plant. But in each case, the

story was successful only if the protagonist—no

matter what he/she/it looked like or was made of— 2

behaved like a human being.

Reminded that their characters had both cybernetic and human

aspects, the readers began to move away from the more rigid interpre­

tation and to think in terms of the entire range of production ele­

ments—set, costuming, lighting, music—as well as the interpretation

style.

The development of the choral relationship of the machines is one

example of this process. When rehearsals with assigned roles began,

the effect was simply that of three different readers occasionally

reading lines together. As the set was developed and those readers

were brought into closer physical proximity, they began to develop a

real relationship: the three tended to react to the proceedings as a

group, rather than as individual readers, although each of their reac­

tions reflected the attitudes of their individual machines. Perhaps

the most striking example of the three readers coming to think of

themselves as a unit was the development of the transitions, discussed

later in the section on blocking. The dance of the chorus was

50

basically the idea of the cast as a whole, but the chorus of machines

were the ones who devised the variations on the steps, which empha­

sized their unity.

Individually, each of the three readers involved with the

machines faced a challenge in developing his or her individual char­

acter. The primary problem for the reader involved with Trurl's

Machine was lack of experience. His efforts at characterization

tended to be somewhat tentative. He had to be encouraged to

strengthen and broaden his interpretation. Given the childish, bul­

lying nature of his machine, the reader seemed somewhat uncomfortable

at first, but quickly began to adapt as he discovered ways to use his

body and the set, such as using his cube to produce the "sound like

thunder," in covert rather than overt ways to depict the aggression

of his machine.

"Trurl's Electronic Bard" presented another type of problem for

the second reader, the most experienced of the three. Since this

machine's creation is described in more detail than either of the other

two, a wider range of characterization is needed as the machine goes

through its various phases. In addition, this machine is self-

programming and, once finished by Trurl, develops new capabilities

on its own. Thus, the reader has to develop early characters who

differ in many respects from Trurl's final product, and then to create

the impression of great independent growth and change by the machine

itself. The major areas of work here lay in strengthening those early

characters to make them as different as possible from the completed

Bard and in trying to portray the Bard's growing confidence in its

skills.

The final narrator/machine, the Machine That Could Do Anything in

N, had much the same problem as the male reader of Trurl's Machine:

inexperience. Her role, however, was of a more cerebral and less

physical machine, offering few opportunities for the type of physicali-

zation used by the male reader. Also, much of the story reads like a

tongue-twister, full of both familiar and unfamiliar terms, requiring

that the reader concentrate on the physical production of words, as

51

well as on the mental images conjured by the terms. This use of "n"

words interfered to some degree with her work on her character since

such concentration was required by the mechanics of pronunciation.

However, she was encouraged to realize her machine's power over the

thoughtless constructors and to work on ways of conveying that grow­

ing realization of power and its awesome implications.

The development of the constructors' personalities also presented

some problems. The male reading Klapaucius, the most experienced

reader in the cast, handled most of his own work in this area. Having

worked extensively with readers theatre, he knew the value of reading

the primary source in its entirety and of building his characteriza­

tion based on cues from that as well as on the script. He was adept

at adapting his characterization in response to the others' develop­

ing characterizations. Because of his experience, he required little

or no additional help in developing a very creditable Klapaucius.

Trurl was facing his first experience in readers theatre,

although he had worked in theatre. This quality may have created

some problems for him, since he had difficulty in working with the

differences between the two forms. He tended to think in literal

terms of the characterization of Trurl, trying early in rehearsals

to develop full make-up and costuming for the character, rather than

working on the suggestive internalization and covert physicalization

favored in oral interpretation. Trurl was also facing personal

problems which interfered with his concentration on the role and on

learning the subtleties involved in the form, causing his perform­

ance during rehearsals to be somewhat erratic, with the same line

rarely receiving the same interpretation twice. This lack of con­

sistency created problems for the other readers as they tried to

develop their own characterizations and relationships and reactions

to other characters.

This problem was resolved a few days before the show was to open

when, by mutual discussion and decision, Trurl replaced Trurl .

Since Trurl was also the director, she was thoroughly familiar with

the script, the cast, and the developing characterizations, as well

52

as such matters as blocking. This familiarity enabled her to step

into the role with a minimum of confusion, employing her own insights

adapted to mesh with those already under development. When she took

over the role, Trurl's performance became more consistent and the

other readers were able to let their responses develop more fully.

Group Evolution of Blocking

Once the set had been formulated and characterizations had begun

to develop, blocking more or less "happened": Trurl felt free to use

the stage area as his workshop, clambering up and down the cubes,

arranging and rearranging his machines as suggested by the script;

Klapaucius used his stool as a home base and refuge from his sallies

into Trurl's domain; and the three narrators/machines found unique

ways to use their area appropriate to their personae. In addition,

the focal area of each story moved slightly closer toward the narrator/

machines, clustering around center stage as things began to disappear

from the constructors' world.

The basic rationale behind the blocking was that it should sug­

gest, though not necessarily portray, the actions described in the

script. Thus, when Trurl is said to have climbed into a certain

story of the machine, he might climb the cubes or even get down to

crouch on his hands and knees on the cubes, but he would not actually

crawl into a cube. This type of reasoning was applied in all areas.

For instance, when Trurl and Klapaucius hide behind Trurl's stool as

if behind a rock in the cave opening, Trurl actually peeps over the

stool and puts out his hand to feel the machine; the machine, however,

is still on the cube where he has been since the beginning of the

story, his pursuit of the constructors simulated by various sound

effects produced by shaking the cube, and the focus of the scene

remains off-stage.

Perhaps the most difficult areas to block were the opening and

the transitions. These problems were solved with the addition of

music. The group had been looking for some type of electronic music

to use to help establish mood as the audience entered. One reader

53

brought in an album called "The Amazing New Electronic Sound of Jean

Jacques Perrey" (Vanguard VSD-79286), which contained an electronic

version of "Frere Jacques" entitled "Frere Jean Jacques." While other

cuts from the album were used to help establish mood as intended,

"Frere Jean Jacques" became the opening music for the production.

Light in mood, familiar-but-strange, the music established a jaunty

note appropriate to the beginning of the script, during which Trurl

brings in and arranges, and rearranges, his troublesome creations, who

will not quite behave as he wishes. Once things are arranged to his

liking, Trurl brings in Klapaucius, who sniffs in disdain; their

relationship is established with a lightness of touch and tone.

Transitions were eased by music also, this time a very brief

piece lasting only a few seconds from "Paul and" by Paul Stukey

(Warner Brothers Records WS 1912). This selection sounds somewhat

like a cart with square wheels trying to roll along. Since the center

cube had been established as the "machine spot," the three narrators

needed to change positions after each story. Asked to experiment with

the music, the cast devised a stylized dance, mimicking the stiff

movements usually associated with robots, which would move each nar­

rator/machine to the necessary spot. There were two versions: one

where the constructors attempt to join the machines' dance and are

ejected; another where the constructors do their own dance. These

dances became the transitions.

Blocking the ending was also enhanced by music. Originally, Trurl

was to have crossed to comfort Klapaucius and help him out, followed

by the other readers as a trio. This approach did not have the "fin­

ished" effect desired. On the same album with "Frere Jean Jacques"

was another song, "In the Heart of a Rose." Added to the ending, the

music created an envelope effect. The song also moved from a slow,

somewhat melancholy start to a sober, but slightly brighter, air.

This change, it was hoped, would help the audience understand that

the constructors would move from their despair eventually to a more

thoughtful attitude toward their creations.

54

Development of Costuming

Reflecting the colors of the backdrop, costumes were fairly

simple. Black was chosen as a unifying factor. Trurl dressed in

black top, pants, and shoes, with a blue apron combining a carpenter's

apron with a bib. The use of a black top and pants for Trurl was

intended to show his involvement with the other characters and his

own primary importance to the show, while the blue provided contrast

and tied Trurl to the environment of the production, since the decor

of the auditorium, including walls in the performing area, was pre­

dominantly blue, with touches of white. Klapaucius dressed similarly,

in black pants with a blue shirt and a black constructor's apron.

The machines also wore black: the male, pants; the females, long

skirts. The male, as Trurl's Machine, wore a brown shirt. Brown was

seen as appropriate both to his sex, since most of the colors used

were pastels, and to the mental dullness of his machine. Trurl's

Electronic Bard wore a pale yellow peasant blouse, with gathers

around the neck and bottoms of the elbow-length sleeves. The yellow

was seen as indicative of the romantic nature of the Bard and of its

eventual fate, composing poetry using super-novae. The Machine That

Could Do Anything in N wore a similar type of blouse, with cuffs

instead of gathers at the end of her elbow-length sleeves, in soft

peach. The modification in sleeve type was to indicate the no-nonsense

attitude of this machine, as opposed to the poetic nature of the Bard

and to the dullness of Trurl's Machine, while the color was neither

bright nor dull, showing that this machine was of itself neither

clever like the Bard nor stupid like Trurl's Machine, but rather only

an instrument of its creator and user, although a powerful instrument.

Rationale for Lighting

Lighting for The Cyberiad was simple, too. General lighting was

used for the stage area, with house lights dimmed to darkness as the

show began. After the cast's exit, stage lights were dimmed briefly,

then brought back up as the house lights were brought to normal levels.

55

This simple use of lighting was necessitated by the physical

arrangement of the room where the show was presented. Designed for

multi-media usage, the room was not completed at the time of this

production. One of the things still to be installed was a grid over

the stage area to facilitate lighting such productions. Only a very

small space to either side of the performing area was available for

use for hanging lights. This space was relatively inaccessible:

permanent ladders were yet to be installed, and most of the available

ladders were too short to be safe. Once lights were hung, using a

borrowed cherry-picker type ladder, they proved hard to focus to

eliminate shadows, due to their locations. Since The Cyberiad was

running with I Remember Will with only a few hours between performances

of the two shows, the decision was made to use only general lighting

for both shows; lighting levels acceptable to both shows were estab­

lished when the lights were originally hung. This procedure reduced

confusion between the different performances and also reduced the

likelihood that some member of the cast and/or technical crew would

be injured while working with the lights.

Summary

This chapter has focused primarily on the physical elements of

this readers theatre production, in terms of set, movement, costumes,

and lighting. The characterizations which developed around those

physical ingredients were also discussed. The next chapter will

examine the completion phase of the qualitative problem-solving method

employed, in terms of circumstances of the performances and of audi­

ence responses to a director-designed questionnaire.

56

Notes for Chapter IV

Scholes, Structural Fabulation, p. 7.

2 Ben Bova, Notes to a_ Science Fiction Writer (New York: Charles

Scribner's Sons, 1975), p. 9.

CHAPTER V

COMPLETION

This chapter will examine the completion phase in working with

the creative/qualitative problems presented by this scripting of The

Cyberiad. A report of the circumstances of the public performances

and a discussion of audience reactions to the literary metaworld will

form the focal points.

Public Performances

The Cyberiad: Fables for the Cybernetic Age was performed four

times on consecutive days, April 6-9, 1978, with two afternoon and two

evening performances. The production ran in conjunction with I

Remember Will, as explained in Chapter II. By the end of the run,

approximately 120 people had attended the performances.

Audience Reactions to the Metaworld

As audience members entered the auditorium, they were asked by

the ushers if they were enrolled in an oral interpretation class at

Texas Tech. Those who indicated they were, were asked to complete a

brief questionnaire concerning their perceptions of the metaworld pre­

sented during the performance. This response sheet consisted of ten

questions, eight focusing on the actual performance and two on prior

experience with Lem's writings and/or oral interpretation. Students

were to return the questionnaire to their laboratory instructors at

the next class meeting. Instructors would simply collect the sheet;

no grade was to be given for returning the answers, although some

instructors elected to give extra credit or check marks to those who

did return the sheet.

This means of easing collection was one of the primary reasons

for limiting distribution of the questionnaire to oral interpretation

57

58

students only. In addition, the beginning oral interpretation class at

Texas Tech may be used to fulfill the degree requirement for a humani­

ties course for many undergraduates; this class has the largest enroll­

ment of all the interpretation classes and would, therefore, provide

most of the responses. Since the course attracts a variety of people,

with wide-ranging backgrounds, interests, and goals, this sample of

responses was considered to be representative of the university popu­

lation as a whole.

Forty-three reaction papers were returned. In addition, twenty-

two students allowed the director to read and keep their written cri­

tiques of the performance, which had been a graded class assignment.

These critiques contained both positive and negative comments and were

used to supplement the material received on the questionnaire. Stu­

dents were not told that the director would see the critiques until

they had been handed in; the value of negative as well as positive

criticism was emphasized.

The director was able to divide the respondents into two basic

groups. Twenty-eight people indicated that they had no experience with

oral interpretation outside of their existing enrollment in the

beginning oral interpretation class. Thirteen others fell into the

some-to-moderate level of experience; nine of these indicated that

they had had some high school experience and/or had completed the

beginning course at Tech, while the other four claimed more than one

year of experience in high school, completion of the beginning course

at Tech, and enrollment in or completion of at least one advanced

interpretation class. Two people did not answer this question.

None of the forty-three were familiar with any of Lem's work

prior to this production. Two, however, indicated that they intended

to become familiar with his writings based on their enjoyment of this

production.

Regarding the time of the fables within the production, seventeen

people said they believed the stories took place 100-150 years in the

future, seven others mentioned the Twenty-second or Twenty-third Cen­

turies, and five more mentioned points in time beyond those. Two

59

people responded in an ambiguous fashion, focusing on elements of both

past and future, while one simply stated that he felt the stories were

"timeless," Two students did not respond.

At the opposite end of the spectrum from those who focused on

the future or timeless elements, eight people thought the stories

occurred in the past. Three people thought the stories took place

three thousand or more years ago; three more, at least a thousand

years ago. Two people indicated they felt the stories took place in

the 1950s during the beginning of the cybernetic explosion on Earth.

(These same two respondents also indicated that they saw Trurl and

Klapaucius as totally human, rather than as highly advanced machines.)

Given the futuristic set used for The Cyberiad, these responses

concerning the past were somewhat surprising, but may partially

reflect a fascination with the concurrently popular film Star Wars,

which supposedly happened, "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far nl away.

Concerning the location of the stories, most of those responding

stated that the action took place on Earth, with twenty-six express­

ing that opinion; two of these indicated that, although the setting

was Earth, a major disaster or social revolution had taken place

prior to the fables. Thirteen students felt the action occurred on

another planet, while two stated the setting was ambiguous, with

elements that were both earthly and alien. One person expressed the

idea that the stories took place in "another dimension." One offered

no response.

While these answers may seem confusing at first, the director's

intention of evoking mythic time is mirrored in them. Just as each

reader of one of Aesop's fables must construct his own mental image of

that story, so the viewers of Lem's fables imaged his world for them­

selves. What emerges as important is not the congruity between

literal place and time from viewer to viewer, but rather the shared

psychological experience of events within Lem's fables.

In terms of creating a sense of inevitability within the literary

experience by the arrangement of the stories, the response was

60

overwhelmingly favorable, with thirty-two believing the stories took

place in the order presented. Of those thirty-two, one felt that the

stories could take place only in that order; two felt that each story

led logically to the next; and two others felt that Trurl would never

wish to create again after "How the World Was Saved." This last

response was particularly interesting in light of the fact that Lem

begins The Cyberiad with that fable. Three people felt that, although

the stories did not necessarily happen in the order presented, that

order was logical and an aid to understanding the overall theme of the

readers theatre production. Only eight people thought the order was

random; of those eight, one mentioned that he had noticed several

similarities within the three fables, however. With so many favorable

responses, the director felt satisfied that she had accomplished the

goal of creating a sense of inevitability.

Four questions concerned Trurl, Klapaucius, and their society.

The first of these focused on the physical and personality traits of

the two constructors. Since there were almost as many different

answers as there were respondents, the results for this question will

be reported in terms of a composite sketch, rather than as individual

responses.

Trurl was seen in a basically positive light. The most common

comments focused on the fact that he was a hard and ambitious worker

with a great need for success, as well as a creator who worked mostly

for his own satisfaction, although social recognition and fame were

strong motivations. He was also perceived as mentally active and

intelligent, seeking answers to problems the society faced. The

audience also remarked on both his stubborn nature and his persever­

ance, noting his continuing efforts at creation as well as his refusal

to compromise his ideals. The responses also indicated that Trurl

was seen as dynamic and assertive, though not overbearing. Although

Trurl possessed a high degree of competitiveness, he was also thought

to be able to accept criticism. Three audience members stated that

they found Trurl particularly sympathetic, loving, and compassionate.

61

Among the few negative comments, Trurl was characterized as being a

bad-tempered, exploitative show-off.

Physically, the audience tended to favor the image of Trurl as

fairly short and thin, with the thinness resulting from overwork. His

age was variously given as young, "forty-ish," and old. His hair

color might have been either dark, gray, or non-existent (bald).

Several respondents felt that he would either be very energetic or

spry even though aged.

Klapaucius was seen much more negatively. The most common

descriptions of his character mentioned the impression that he was

extremely envious and scornful of the achievement of others. He was

often termed intelligent"but one viewer characterized him as only a

pseudo-intellectual and another called him stupid. He was also seen

as less creative and lazier than Trurl, as well as the weaker of the

two in general terms of strength of character. On a more positive

note, Klapaucius was also described as being a dynamic person who was

able to ask probing questions and who was proud of his own work.

Older than Trurl, short, and fat from inactivity were the terms

most often used to describe Klapaucius on a physical level. One

audience member thought that he was probably about forty, another that

he was fairly old. One person thought he had long, black, curly hair,

another that he was gray. Few audience members elaborated beyond the

comment that Klapaucius was fat.

The director was somewhat surprised by the negative response to

the character of Klapaucius. However, the cutting employed in this

particular production gave little emphasis to Klapaucius's own cre­

ative efforts, although some effort was made to show his side of the

friendship in a positive light, such as his refusal to abandon Trurl

to the first machine. The Cyberiad as a whole is more balanced in its

treatment of the two constructors; another selection of stories could

give a more sympathetic portrait of Klapaucius,

Most audience members clearly saw Trurl and Klapaucius as not

only rivals but also friends, with seventeen of those answering the

questionnaire using those terms to describe the constructors'

62

relationship. Ten others depicted them as colleagues; eight others,

partners and friends; and still eight more, as rivals. Three responses

also mentioned the complementary nature of the relationship, stating

that it seemed as though each needed the other in order to make sense

of his own life and work. Thus, although many audience members saw

numerous negative aspects of Klapaucius, they nonetheless felt that

friendship between Trurl and Klapaucius was plausible, especially

when that friendship was tinged with rivalry.

Most respondents seemed to feel that the society in which Trurl

and Klapaucius functioned was technologically advanced (thirteen

responses) and primarily cybernetic (fourteen answers, with four of

those indicating they felt the society was entirely made up of

machines, although those machines had human characteristics). Two

other students felt that humanity had been completely replaced by

technology. While six viewers felt the society was "futuristic,"

three others stated that it was remarkably similar to the present

world. Six people saw competition and pride as major elements;

three others termed it an essentially hostile society. One saw uncer­

tainty as an important factor. Three people felt that there was also

a gentle side to life, since the arts apparently flourished in "Trurl's

Electronic Bard." Two people said the society was permissive, while

one termed it conservative, and yet another, very conventional. Other

comments included the opinion that life was simple (one response);

that organized systems of living had disappeared (one); that existence

was "factory-like" (one) and that the society was essentially a lonely

one (two). Some students gave a combination of answers, yielding a

total of more than forty-three responses. These answers indicate that,

although there was general agreement about several major elements of

the social scheme, there was also some variance of feeling concerning

less clearly defined areas.

Seventeen people spoke of Trurl's and Klapaucius's relationships

to their society in terms of their roles as constructors and/or

scientists. Although some of the students did not elaborate beyond

that answer, others went on to say that the constructors try to

63

•s advance their society (eight people), especially mentioning Trurl

desire to create marvelous machines (two of the eight) and Klapaucius's

desire to prove Trurl wrong (one of the eight); to answer society's

questions or demands (two); and to make life easier (one). Six people

felt that Trurl and Klapaucius were a reflection of their society's

ways and mores, with two of these citing their yearning for recogni­

tion from society as a whole and one more noting their concern with

appearances. However, four people stated they believed that Trurl and

Klapaucius were "outside" society, being unable to function within

society and being unacceptable to their culture. A related response,

from two respondents, was that, while Klapaucius could be seen as a

representative of their society, fitting in well, Trurl could not be

deemed to fit in with others, since he continually tries to reform and

advance their world. Two others saw both the constructors as non­

conformists, but also part of the social system. Three people per­

ceived the pair as only minimally involved with the larger social

order, with an additional three citing their view that the constructors

worked primarily for their own amusement and self-satisfaction.

Another response focused on the fact that Trurl's inventions had a

great impact on their world, regardless of the constructors' personal

roles. Still other answers called them intellectual leaders (two),

workers (one), and "pawns" (one); the last response did not elaborate.

The final two questions concerned the production elements of set

and lighting. In both areas, some respondents gave a combination of

answers, so that answers cited total more than the number of students

answering the questionnaire.

In terms of relating the physical setting to the literary meta­

world, many people mentioned the modem but timeless feeling of the

set as related to those qualities within the fables (the mythic time

elements mentioned earlier in this chapter), with ten answers citing

this factor. Eight students related the set to the role of machines

in society, one specifically in terms of Trurl's creations and their

growing dominance over their creator; one, in terms of Trurl's uncer­

tainty regarding what he really wanted from his creations; and one,

64

in terms of the lack of emotions of machines in the traditional sense.

Three students mentioned a positive relationship between the size of

the platforms and the size of the machines. Four related the set to

Trurl's workshop, with three of those indicating that the set made it

easy to become involved with both the machines and the constructors,

although one specifically mentioned Trurl's freedom of movement as

making his position most powerful. Four felt the set helped establish

the mood without distracting. One person thought the simplicity of

the set enhanced the acoustics. One response mentioned that the

viewer had felt as if he were constantly "being watched," a quality

Steve Tolle had tried to incorporate in his design for the backdrop.

One of the more interesting ideas advanced concerned the sim­

plicity of the set in relation to the complexities of the production.

This respondent felt that the simplicity of the set served as a com­

plement to the dense and complex language of the selections. In

addition, the readers/characters introduced complexities into the

set/metaworld.

Of the remaining responses, one stated the set was neutral, one

gave an irrelevant answer unrelated to the set, and seven indicated

they either did not know, did not understand the question, or had no

response.

Given these comments, the director felt that the set had been

generally successful in terms of helping to establish overall mood and

of illustrating the relationships of the machines and the constructors.

Answers to the question concerning the significance of the light­

ing at the end of the show fell into basically four groups; again,

some students used a combination of answers, so that responses total

more than forty-three. The largest group of responses were those

concerning the lighting as a means of gently ending the show (eleven

responses) and/or as a means of reflecting the mood or state of the

environment after "How the World Was Saved" (nine responses).

The second category of answers were those delving into philo­

sophical implications. Six saw the lighting as suggestive of the end

of the world, regardless of the fact the machine had been stopped.

65

Two students focused on the duality suggested by the lighting and

music, citing their feeling of both an end and a beginning and/or the

lack of hope versus the capability of progress. One person saw the

ending with its lighting as paralleling the Exile from Paradise of

Adam and Eve, since the constructors must now live with the guilt of

their sin in misusing the creation of intelligence.

The third group of responses might be termed the more negative

comments. Three audience members found no significance to the end

lighting; five did not notice any changes in lighting at the end; and

one noticed the difference in lighting, but stated he did not under­

stand it.

The final category consisted of those responses that were too

general to be useful (such as, "The lighting was good," from one

viewer); those comments related to other aspects of the lighting than

the ending (three students); and those statements not related to

lighting elements at all (two participants). One questionnaire con­

tained no response.

The director felt that she had been fairly successful, based on

these responses, in terms of conveying the state of Trurl's and

Klapaucius's world following their encounter with the Machine That

Could Do Anything in N, and in terms of allowing the audience members

to disengage themselves from the metaworld gradually rather than

abruptly. The director also felt, however, that the ending was not

as successful as had been hoped in conveying the optimism of the

constructors as well as the sense of guilt the constructors must learn

to live with following their failures.

On the whole, the director felt that she had been reasonably

successful in accomplishing her major goals for the production,

although some elements needed strengthening. The critiques tended to

reinforce this feeling.

Twenty-two critiques were submitted. Of these, the majority

tended to focus on physical attributes of the individual readers such

as vocal qualities, posture, and gesture, which, while important to

the overall production, were not particularly germaine to the major

66

areas of research for this thesis. Several critiques were too general

to be of much use, except in rating the readers theatre on a broad

positive or negative level. Surprisingly, only two papers were thor­

oughly negative; the incidence of negative criticism was expected to

be much higher, given the slightly bizarre nature of the stories and

their highly complex language.

More common was the reaction of the student who wrote, "How

weird was this show!" He then admitted that he had not expected to

like the show, based on initial publicity and advance discussion, but

had found himself drawn into the characters and their situations

almost against his will and, surprising himself, had liked and cared

about what happened to the constructors and machines. This sense of

audience involvement was echoed by the young woman who wrote, "It was

easy to follow the literature because I did not feel like an observer;

now I have a greater appreciation and a better understanding of

listener involvement." A third person stated, "Though I've never seen

a show like this one before, I was able to recreate the scenes in my

mind. I did this without thinking!"

Not everyone was so positive. One student characterized the

choice of material as "very poor," while another found it "confusing."

Two students, in generally positive critiques, voiced concern that,

based on movement styles and script usage, the production bordered on

being "too dramatic," rather than being pure readers theatre; in con­

trast, two others felt the movement was too limited, while seven

others mentioned the limited use of scripts by the machine/narrators

in each segment as being very effective.

The element most often criticized was the costuming of the three

machines. Four people felt that the costumes for these machines were

not as helpful to visualizing the scenes as the constructors' costumes

were; one of these four wanted more literal costuming for the machines,

and one simply wanted the male reader out of "modern dress."

The most popular element by far was the music, with eleven people

noting its appropriateness; one person even felt that the music could

have been written especially for this production. The set garnered

67

approval from the students for its ability to enhance the underlying

feeling and tone of the stories and the overall understanding of the

entire production; only two people felt the set was too simple and

uninvolving. Other aspects mentioned as very effective included the

lighting, by seven students; the costuming of Trurl and Klapaucius,

six; the use of movement and gestures as enhancement of the relation­

ships among machines and creators, five; the stylized movement for the

transitions, six (although one of these characterized the transitions

as "good, but odd"); the use of a variety of focusing techniques, four

(one of these found the use of character placement rather than on­

stage focus by the machines confusing at times); and the overall

pacing of the pieces, four. The scene most often mentioned specif­

ically as excellent was the cave scene from "Trurl's Machine," by four

students; the use of the set pieces to produce the thunderous rumbling

of the advancing machine was singled out particularly.

Nine papers also discussed the theory behind the line assignment.

While one felt that the line assignment was simply in a regular order,

eight others discussed in detail the basic reasoning behind the

division of lines, citing reasoning close to that of the director and

cast. Of these eight, three noted minor inconsistencies.

In terms of realizing the dichotomy of the constructors and the

machines, i.e., their having both mechanical and human components,

most students seemed to have little trouble. The most usual reaction

was typified by one student's comment about Trurl: "He seemed very

human, even though he was a machine." One of the most elaborate com­

ments on this duality came from a young man who wrote, concerning the

Electronic Bard, "I would have expected (had I been told about it

beforehand) to have had a humorous reaction. The idea of a machine

reciting a love poem in mathematical terms seems a humorous one. Yet,

to my surprise, my reaction was emotional, and in the passion and

feeling of the poem I became infatuated with the machine." Clearly,

the audience was able to perceive both elements of the characters.

The director had some concern that her reading of Trurl's role

might create problems in terms of cognitive dissonance for the

68

audience, since Trurl is, of course, male. However, only one critique

indicated any problem with this, the writer choosing to discuss the

constructors' rivalry in terms of the battle of the sexes. Most stu­

dents tended to refer to Trurl as "he" and to the director-reader as

"she." Thus, this seems to have been a very minor problem.

Summary

This chapter has examined the circumstances of the four perform­

ances of The Cyberiad: Fables for the Cybernetic Age and the method of

data collection through questionnaires and written critiques. A dis­

cussion of the comments obtained from the questionnaires and critiques

followed.

Chapter VI will summarize the work done for this thesis and the

conclusions reached. Some recommendations for future studies will

also be presented.

69

Note for Chapter V_

itar Wars, A Lucasfilm Ltd. Production, Twentieth Century-Fox Release, 1977.

CHAPTER VI

SUMMARY, CONCLUSIONS, AND RECOMMENDATIONS FOR FUTURE STUDY

This final chapter will offer a summary of the major points of

this thesis. Some conclusions will be stated concerning Lem's work

in connection with its performance in readers theatre. Finally, some

recommendations for future study will be made.

Summary

In Chapter I of this thesis, a brief overview of readers theatre

as a means of literary study was presented, followed by a discussion

of the particular qualities of science fiction as a field, and of

Lem's work specifically, which lend themselves to the use of readers

theatre. Last, the problem was stated and a general method for its

approach was given.

Lem's life and work, as well as the difficulties in working with

translations, were the focus of Chapter II. Biographical data concern­

ing Lem was covered. An examination of his works available in English

translation at the time of the production ensued, leading into a pe­

rusal of Lem's major recurring themes and motifs. Then reasons for the

choice of stories from The Cyberiad were voiced.

Chapters III and IV centered on the evolution of the production

from the early stages of script selection to the final preparations.

Analysis of the literature and development of the interpretation were

handled in Chapter III, while Chapter IV looked at development of

characterizations and the physical aspects of the perceptual layering

process involved.

The circumstances of the performances and the responses of the

audience were reported in Chapter V.

70

71

Conclusions

Based on this experience, two major conclusions can be stated.

First, although Lem's work often contains unfamiliar terminology

and procedures, and may, at first glance, seem rather alien in its

metaworld, these works are in fact a mirror for the human/conscious

condition, whose cybernetic perspective gives an added richness to the

experience. As such, works such as The Cyberiad contain ample psy­

chological resonance to hold, entertain, and perhaps to educate a

typical audience for the length of an average readers theatre produc­

tion, and possibly for even longer.

Second, readers theatre is a prime vehicle for literature such

as The Cyberiad. The ability to retain the narrative element while

embodying the work in acoustical space gives an added depth to the

metaworld, allowing the author to present his views in his own unique

way: an element often lacking in the more conventional theatrical

dramatization or film. With Lem's fiction, this approach allows the

retention of many of his philosophical elements, as well as the pre­

sentation of many of his more spectacular scenes, in a way that

totally involves the imaginations of both readers and audience.

Given these two successful conclusions, a number of possibilities

open up for further study.

Recommendations for Future Study

Although the possibilities for more work with Lem's writings are

virtually limitless, three major areas for study will be recommended.

First, experimentation could be done using different types of

audiences to try to assess factors in audience response to the litera­

ture. For example. The Cyberiad might be performed for three audi­

ences: one from the general populace, one from the scientific

community, and one from literary circles. How will the different

backgrounds affect the perceptions of the literature? Which audience

experiences the strongest response? What adaptations can/should be

made to aid each audience? These are only a few of the questions that

might be considered.

72

Second, audience reaction to different types of formats for the

presentation of the more complex works, such as Solaris, could be

studied. Here a "marathon" production—necessitated by the material—

might be contrasted with a "two-nighter" presentation of the same

material. Which is more effective? What changes are required by the

different formats? Again, the possibilities are numerous.

Finally, the material itself can be combined in new ways. Selec­

tions from various works could be used to illustrate some of Lem's

recurring themes and motifs. Some of the books feature line drawings

by Lem and other artists which might be used as slides with the read­

ing. Other books suggest psychological scenes and visual effects which

might be enhanced by a multimedia approach. With this type of explor­

ation, only the director and cast could place the artistic boundaries,

based upon the literature itself.

These are only a few suggestions. With writing as complex and

varied as that of Lem, a rich lode remains for refinement and use by

other interpreters.

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Aggertt, Otis J. and Elbert R. Bowen. Communicative Reading (3rd ed.) New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1972.

Aldiss, Brian W. Billion Year Spree. New York: Doubleday, 1973.

. "Symbols of Transcience." Foundation, 4 (July 1973), pp. 69-73.

and Harry Harrison, eds. Hell's Cartographers. New York: Harper and Row, 1976.

Alterman, Peter Steven.- "A Study of Four Science Fiction Themes and Their Function in Two Contemporary Novels." Diss. University of Denver 1974.

Annan, David. Robot: The Mechanical Monster. New York: Bounty Books, 1976.

Ascher, M. "Computers in Science Fiction." Harvard Business Review, 41 (Nov.-Dec. 1963), pp. 40-42.

Ash, Brian, ed. The Visual Encyclopedia of Science Fiction. New York: Harmony Books, 1977.

Ashley, Mike, ed. Souls in Metal. New York: Jove Publications, Inc., 1977.

Asimov, Isaac. Eight Stories from The Rest of the Robots. New York: Jove Publications, Inc., 1978.

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. Of Time, Space, and Other Things. New York: Avon, 1975.

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73

74

Beloof, Robert. The Performing Voice in Literature. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1966.

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Bishop, Michael. Rev. of The Cyberiad, by Stanislaw Lem. Delap's Fantasy and Science Fiction Review, 2 (September 1976), pp. 20-21,

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Bova, Ben. Notes to a_ Science Fiction Writer. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1975.

, ed. The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Vol. IIA and Vol. IIB, New York: Avon, 1973.

Boyce, Sandra N. "A Readers Theatre Production Reflecting a Study of the 1884-85 Reading Tour of Mark Twain." Thesis University of North Carolina 1971.

Bretnor, Reginald, ed. The Craft of Science Fiction. New York: Harper and Row, 1976.

, ed. Science Fiction, Today and Tomorrow. Evanston: Harper and Row, 1974.

Brock, Eleanor Evelyn Huebner. "Projected Societies in American Science Fiction, 1945-1970." Diss. Ohio State University 1976.

Brooks, Keith; Eugene Bahn; and L. LaMont Okey. The Communicative Act of Oral Interpretation (2nd ed.). Boston: Allyn and Bacon, Inc., 1975.

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Capo, Larry G. '"Only Dead People Don't Cry,' A Creative Thesis (A Chamber Theatre Production of e. e. cummings)." Thesis Central Michigan University 1972.

75

Cerf, Christopher, ed. The Vintage Anthology of Science Fantasy. New York: Vintage Books, 1966.

Chauvin, Cy. Rev. of The Invincible, by Stanislaw Lem. Delap's Fantasy and Science Fiction Review, 1 (September 1975), p. 27.

• A Multitude of Visions. Baltimore: T-K Graphics, 1975.

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• Science Fiction Criticism: An Annotated Checklist. Kent State University Press, 1972.

, ed, ^ : The Other Side of Realism. Bowling Green: Bowling Green University Popular Press, 1971.

, ed. Voices for the Future. Bowling Green: Bowling Green University Popular Press, 1976.

Clarke, Arthur C. Profiles of the Future (rev. ed.). New York: Popular Library, 1977.

. 2001: A Space Odyssey. New York: New American Library, Inc., 1968.

Cleveland, Lynda Gail. "Approaches to Directing Of Readers Theatre: A Field Study." Thesis Texas Tech University 1973.

Coger, Leslie Irene and Melvin R. White. Readers Theatre Handbook (rev. ed.). Glenview: Scott, Foresman and Company, 1973.

Cook, Bruce Randall. "Science, Fiction, and Film: A Study of Science, Science Fiction Literature, and the Growth of Cinema." Diss. University of Southern California 1976.

Crouch, Harolyn W. "A Reader's Theatre Production of Selected Works of E. E. Cummings." Thesis University of Cincinnati 1972.

Dailey, Jennie Ora Marriott. "Modern Science Fiction." Diss. University of Utah 1974.

Diskin, Lahna Faga. "Teaching and Reading Science Fiction in College." Diss. University of Michigan 1975.

Dunbar, David Lincoln. "Unique Motifs in Brazilian Science Fiction." Diss, University of Arizona 1976.

76

Espinola, Judith C. "Oral Interpretation Performance: An Act of Pub­lication." Western Journal of Speech Communication, 41 (Spring 1977), pp. 90-97.

Florescu, Radu. In Search of Frankenstein. Boston: New York Graphic Society, 1975.

Friend, Beverly Oberfeld. "The Science Fiction Fan Cult." Diss. Northwestern University 1975.

• Science Fiction: The Classroom in Orbi^. Glassboro, New Jersey: Educational Impact, 1974.

Gardener, Martin. "Humorous Science Fiction." The Writer, 62 (1949), 148-151.

Garr, Alice Carol. "German Science Fiction: Variations on the Theme of Survival in the Space-Time Continuum." Diss. University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill 1973.

Geiger, Don. "Performing as the Act of Understanding Literature." Oral English, 1 (Winter 1972), pp. 3-6.

"• The Sound, Sense, and Performance of Literature. Glenview Scott, Foresman and Company, 1963.

Gillam, Barry. "Mr. Lem and the Clerks." Foundation, 4 (July 1973), pp. 92-95.

Greenway, Mary B. "The Wind in the Willows: A Chamber Theater Pro­duction for Children." Thesis University of Texas-Austin 1972.

Gunn, James. Alternate Worlds: The Illustrated History of Science Fiction. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1975.

, ed. The Road to Science Fiction: From Gilgamesh to Wells New York: New American Library, 1977.

Haas, Richard. "Oral Interpretation as Discovery Through Persona," Oral English, 1 (Spring 1972), pp. 13-14.

Herbert, Frank. Dune. New York: Berkley Publishing Corporation, 1977,

Heslop, Mary Lee. "Readers Theatre: Production of John Knowles' Novel: A Separate Peace." Thesis University of Utah 1972.

Highet, Gilbert. The Anatomy of Satire. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1962,

77

Hirschfield-Medalia, Adeline. "Stylized Movement in Interpreters Theatre." Communication Education, 25 (March 1976), pp. 111-120

Hoffmann, E. T. A. "The Sandman." The Best Tales of Hoffmann. New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1967, pp. 183-214.

Ish-Kishor, Judith. Tales from the Wise Men of Israel. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Company, 1962, pp. 143-159.

Jackson, Donald George. "The Changing Myth of Frankenstein: A Historical Analysis of a Myth, Technology, and Society." Diss. University of Texas-Austin 1974.

Kagarlitski, Julius. "Russian Translations of Foreign Science Fic­tion." Soviet Literature, 5 (1968), 159-165.

Kaplan, Stuart J. and G.-P. Mohrmann. "Reader, Text, Audience: Oral Interpretation and Cognitive Tuning." Quarterly Journal of Speech, 63 (February 1977), pp. 59-65.

Kern, Judy B. "A Readers Theatre Television Production Based on the Poetry of Robert Frost." Thesis Texas Technological College 1967.

Kerr, Barbara. "An Oral Interpretation Program of Selected Navaho Literature." Thesis North Texas State University 1974.

Kirlin, Thomas Michael. "H. G. Wells and the Geometric Imagination: A Study of Three Science Fiction Novels of the Nineties." Diss. University of Iowa 1974.

Knickerbocker, Kenneth Leslie and H. Willard Reninger, eds. Inter­preting Literature: Preliminaries to Literary Judgment (5th ed.). New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1974.

Knight, Damon, The Futurians. New York: John Day, 1977.

, ed. Turning Points: Essays on the Art of Science Fiction. New York: Harper and Row, 1977.

Kyle, David. A Pictorial History of Science Fiction. New York: Hamlyn Publishing Group Limited, 1976.

Le Guin, Ursula K. "European SF: Rottensteiner's Anthology, the Strugatskys, and Lem," Science-Fiction Studies, 1 (Spring 1974), pp. 181-185.

Lem, Stanislaw. The Chain of Chance. Trans. Louis Iribarne. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1979.

78

• The Cosmic Carnival of Stanislaw Lem. Trans, and ed. Michael Kandel. New York: Continuum Publishing Corporation, 1981.

• The Cyberiad: Fables for the Cybernetic Age. Trans. Michael Kandel. New York: Avon, 1976.

• The Futurological Congress. Trans. Michael Kandel. New York: Avon, 1976.

• The Investigation. Trans. Adele Milch. New York: Avon, 1976.

. The Invincible. New York: The Seabury Press, 1973.

. Memoirs Found in a Bathtub. Trans. Michael Kandel and Christine Rose, New York: Avon, 1976.

. Memoirs of a_ Space Traveller. Trans. Joel Stern and Maria Swiecicka-Zielmianek. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1982.

. More Tales of Pirx the Pilot. Trans. Louis Iribarne. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1981.

Mortal Engines. Trans. Michael Kandel. New York: The Seabury Press, 1977.

"On the Structural Analysis of Science Fiction." Trans. Franz Rottensteiner and Bruce Gillespie. Science-Fiction Studies, 1 (Spring 1973), pp. 26-33.

, A Perfect Vacuum, Trans. Michael Kandel. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1979.

"Philip K. Dick: A Visionary Among the Charlatans." Science-Fiction Studies, 2 (March 1975), pp. 54-67,

"Remarks Occasioned by 'Quixote's Mills.'" Science-Fiction Studies, 1 (Fall 1973), pp. 78-83.

. Return from the Stars. Trans. Barbara Marszal and Frank Simpson. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1980.

. Solaris, Trans, Joanna Kilmartin and Steve Cox. New York: Berkley Publishing Corporation, 1971.

. Star Diaries. Trans. Michael Kandel. New York: Avon, 1977

. Tales of Pirx the Pilot. Trans. Louis Iribarne. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1979.

79

• "Todorov's Fantastic Theory of Literature." Science-Fiction Studies, 1 (Fall 1974), pp. 121-231.

Lewis, Nancy Whyte. "Lawrence Durrell's Alexandria Quartet and the Rendering of Post-Einsteinian Space." Diss. University of Wisconsin-Madison 1976.

Long, Beverly Whitaker; Lee Hudson; and Phillis Reinstra Jeffrey. Group Performance of Literature. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1977.

Long, Chester Clayton. The Liberal Art of Interpretation. Evanston Harper and Row, 1974.

Lundwall, Sam J. Science Fiction: What It's All About. New York: Ace, 1971.

Maclay, Joanna Hawkins. Readers Theatre: Toward a_ Grammar of Prac­tice. New York: Random House, 1971.

Maher, Mary Z. "Fantasy and the Fantastic." Address, Baylor Uni­versity, Waco, Texas, November 11, 1977.

Malone, Robert. The Robot Book. New York: Jove Publications, Inc., 1978.

Mammarella, James. "Vonnegut: So It Goes; An Adaptation of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.'s, Philosophy and Selected Novels for Chamber Theatre." Thesis Texas Tech University 1974.

"The Mind Machines." NOVA. Broadcast, PBS, March 22, 1978.

Moskowitz, Sam. Explorers of the Infinite: Shapers of Science Fic­tion. Cleveland: World Publishing Company, 1963.

. The Immortal Storm: A History of Science Fiction Fandom. 1954; rpt, Westport: Hyperion Press, 1974.

Nicholls, Peter, ed. Science Fiction at Large. New York: Harper and Row, 1976,

Parrella, Gilda, "Through the 'I' of the Beholder: A Elationale for the Physicalization of Narrative." Central States Speech Journal, 25, 296-302.

Philmus, Robert M. Into the Unknown: The Evolution of Science Fiction from Francis Godwin to H. G_. Wells. Berkley: University of California Press, 1970.

80

Pickering, Jerry V. Readers Theatre. Encino: Dickinson Publishing Company, Inc., 1975.

Plank, Robert. "The Golem and the Robot." Literature and Psychology, 13-15 (1963-65), 12-27.

Post, Robert M, "Readers Theatre as a Method of Teaching Literature." Educational Journal, 63, 69-72.

"Promethean Fire (an interview with Stanislaw Lem)." Soviet Litera­ture, 11 (1968), 166-170.

Rambo, James R. "A Readers Theatre Production Evolved From E. E. Cummings: A Creative-Critical Study." Thesis Texas Tech Uni­versity 1974.

Roloff, Leland H. "Living in Poetic Space." Address, Midwestern State University, Wichita Falls, Texas, April 1, 1977.

. The Perception and Evocation of Literature. Glenview: Scott, Foresman and Company, 1973.

. "Readers Theatre: Spatio-Temporal Interpenetration." Readers Theatre News, 6 (Fall-Winter 1978), pp. 5, 46-47.

Rose, Mark, ed. Science Fiction: A Collection of Critical Essays. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1976.

Rothfork, John. "New Wave Science Fiction as a Popular Religious Phenomenon: A Definition and an Example." Diss. University of New Mexico 1973.

Rottensteiner, Franz. The Science Fiction Book. New York: The Seabury Press, 1975.

, ed. View From Another Shore, New York: Jove Publications, Inc, 1978,

Sadoul, Jacques, 2000 A.D.: Illustrations from the Golden Age of Science Fiction Pulps, Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1975.

Schillaci, Peter. "Star Wars: Nostalgia in Hyper-Drive." Media and Methods, 14 (November 1977), pp. 18-21.

Schmidt, Paul. "Literature in Translation." Address, University of Texas, Austin, June 11, 1974.

Schneider, Raymond. "The Visible Metaphor." Communication Educa­tion, 25 (March 1976), pp. 121-126.

81

Scholes, Robert. Structural Fabulation: An Essay on Fiction of the Future. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1975.

and Eric S. Rabkin. Science Fiction: History, Science Vision. New York: Oxford University Press, 1977.

Sheppard, R. Z. "Of Microchips and Men." Time, 113 (January 29, 1979), pp. 70-71.

Shipman, Irene K. "Chamber Theatre Production of Ken Kesey's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." Thesis University of Maryland-College Park 1972.

Siciliano, Sam Joseph. "The Fictional Universe in Four Science Fic­tion Novels: Anthony Burgess's A Clockwork Orange, Ursula Le Guin's The Word for World is Forest, Walter Miller's A Canticle for Leibowitz. and Roger Zelazny's Creatures of Light and Darkness." Diss. University of Iowa 1975.

Silverberg, Robert, ed. The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Vol. I. New York: Avon, 1970.

Simpson, Vera L. "A Readers Theatre Production of Sophocles' Electra." Thesis Texas Technological College 1965.

Snyder, Gene. "Caution! Science Fiction Causes Heat!" Media and Methods, 14 (November 1977), pp. 28-29.

Spadacine, Karen. "An Analysis of a Screenplay for a Chamber Theatre Adaptation and Presentation: Ingmar Bergman's Smiles of a_ Summer Night." Thesis University of South Florida 1972.

Spinrad, Norman, ed. Modern Science Fiction. Garden City: Anchor Press/Doubleday, 1974.

Stapledon, Olaf. Star Maker. New York: Penguin Books, 1972.

Star Wars. A Lucasfilm Ltd. Production. Twentieth Century-Fox Release, 1977,

Summers, Ian, ed. Tomorrow and Beyond: Masterpieces of Science Fic­tion Art, New York: Workman Publishing Company, Inc., 1978.

Suvin, Darko, ed. Other Worlds, Other Seas, New York: Berkley Medallion Books, 1970, pp. 11-106.

Tobias, Donna R. "A Pluralistic Approach to Walt Whitman's 'Song of the Open Road' for the Oral Interpreter: Explicative, Archetypal, and Rhetorical Analyses." Thesis University of Houston 1972.

82

Vasbinder, Samuel Holmes. "Scientific Attitudes in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein: Newtonian Monism as a Basis for the Novel." Diss. Kent State University 1976.

von Harbou, Thea. Metropolis. New York: Ace, 1963.

Watkins, William Jon. "How a Science Fiction Writer Teaches Science Fiction." Media and Methods, 14 (November 1977), pp. 22-24.

Weinkauf, Mary S. Rev, of The Futurological Congress, by Stanislaw Lem, Delap's Fantasy and Science Fiction Review, 2 (November 1976), p. 32.

Wendt, Ted A. "Literary Criteria in the Evaluation of Oral Interpre­tation." Kentucky Journal of Communication Arts, 5, 16-17.

Williamson, Jack. "The Next Century of Science Fiction." Analog, 98 (February 1978), pp. 5-8, 10-12, 14-15.

Wollheim, Donald A. The Universe Makers: Science Fiction Today. Evanston: Harper and Row, 1971.

Zamyatin, Yevgeny. We. Trans. Mirra Ginsburg. New York: Bantam Books, Inc., 1972.

APPENDIX A: CORRESPONDENCE

83

84

Texas Tech University PO Box 4209

Lubbock, Texas 79409

Division of Speech Communicailon Phone M06( r-tj 2152

2619 19th Street, #2 Lubboclc, Texas 79^10 January 6, 1978

The Seabury Press, Inc. 815 Second Avenue New York, New York 10017

Dear Sir or Madamet

I wish to request permission to use selections from Stsmislaw Lem's The Cyberiad as the basis for a readers theatre production later this springs production dates are not definite at this time.

I aun currently a graduate student here at Texas Tech. in the Division of Speech Communication. This productior.' will be a part of my master's thesis; thus, I alone will be responsible for production expenses.

Current plans call for three performances. Past experience with readers theatre here at Tech indicates that we can expect a total audience of I50-2OO people during the run. We intend to sell tickets at one dollar for adults and fifty cents for students. This money will be used to pay production expenses in pajrt, although it will not be enough to cover all the costs of doing the show.

I would be glad to submit my script for your approval, or to provide any other information you might need. Thank you for your time and consideration in this matter.

Sincerely,

Connie Tapp *andy

85

I n c DC/-ADUM TKui : ) THE SEABURY PRESS THE SEABURY PRESS

_ J l i t J L / X D U K Y r K t j ^ aiSSecondAvenue/NewYork. NY 10017/(212)557 0500

Crossroad bo'jks , Conf inuum 8'joxs •<_:.j'-->n 9(i • "•

January 11, 1978

Ms. Connie Tapp Bandy 2619 19th Street, »2 Lubbock, Texas 79410

Dear Ms. Bandy:

Thank you very much for your letter of January 6, concerning per­mission to use selections from THE CYBERIAD by Stanislaw Lem as the basis for a readers theater production this spring.

We consider this excellent promotion for the author and his work, and we are pleased to grant you permission, free-of-charge, to use these selections. Our permission is, of course, restricted to the readers theater production at Texas Tech University this spring; permission for performances other than in conjuction with the Division of Speech Communication at Texas Tech roust be obtain­ed separately. We would appreciate receiving a copy of your script for our files, and we must also ask you to credit the selections as follows:

From THE CYBERIAD: Fables for the Cybernetic Age by Stan.islaw Lem, English translation (c) 1974 by the Seabury Press, Inc. Used by permission of the publisher.

With best wishes for a successful production.

Yours sincerely,

Ulla Schnell

APPENDIX B: SCRIPT

86

THE CYBERIAD: FABLES FOR THE CYBERNETIC AGE*

By Stanislaw Lem

Translated by Michael Kandel

Cast of Characters

TRURL, a constructor MALE 1

KLAPAUCIUS, his friend and rival MALE 2

NARRATOR 1, narrator and'Trurl's Electronic Bard FEMALE 1

NARRATOR 2, narrator and the Machine That Could Do

Anything in N FEMALE 2

NARRATOR 3, narrator and Trurl's Machine MALE 3

(This script uses the abbreviations "M" for male and "F" for female.)

* From THE CYBERIAD: Fables for the Cybernetic Age by Stanislaw Lem.

English translation (c) 1974 by the Seabury Press, Inc. Used by

permission of the publisher.

87

88

(A jaunty electronic version of "Frere Jacques" is heard

as M 1 enters and "straightens" the set. After looking it

all over, M 1 exits and returns with F 1, placing her at the

far right stool and stand in an artistic pose. He then

exits again, returning with F 2. He places her at the other

stool and stand carefully arranging her arms and hands. By

this time, F 1 has slipped out of her pose, and M 1 rearr­

anges her. M 1 leaves one more time and brings back M 3,

who will be the machine in the first segment, placing him

on the center box in his pose. F 1 is again out of position,

but snaps back as M 1 glares at her. M 2 saunters in, look­

ing over the set-up with a smug and superior air. As M 1

goes to the stool closest to F 2 and sits, indicating his

pride and pleasure in his creations to the audience, M 2

moves to the stool closest to F 1 and sits, showing just as

clearly that he_ is not overly impressed. M 1 gives him a

dirty look. The music ends, and M 1 switches his attention

to beginning the production. As each character speaks his

or her first line, he or she drops the pose.)

M 1: When the Universe was not so out of whack as it is today

M 2: and all the stars were lined up in their proper places

F 2: so you could easily count them from left to right, or top

to bottom,

M 1: when there was not a speck of dust to be found in outer

space,

M 2: nor any nebular debris—

M 3: In those good old days it was the custom for constructors.

89

F 1: once they had received their Diploma of Perpetual Omnipo­

tence with distinction,

M 3: to sally forth ofttimes and bring to all the land the bene­

fit of their expertise.

M 1: (Crossing toward machine and clambering up boxes) Once upon

a time (indicating self) Trurl the constructor built an

eight-story thinking machine. (Standing in back of M 3 and

suggesting actions as described) When it was finished, he

gave it a coat of white paint, trimmed the edges in laven-

dar, stepped back, squinted, then added a curlicue on the

front and, where one might imagine the forehead to be, a

few pale orange polka-dots. (Dusting his hands) Extremely

pleased with himself, he whistled an air and, as is always

done on such occasions, asked it the ritual question of how

much is two plus two.

M 3: The machine stirred.

F 2 Its tubes began to glow,

F 1: its coils warmed up,

F 2: current coursed through all its circuits

like a waterfall,

F 1: transformers hummed and throbbed,

F 2: there was a clanging,

F 1 and

F 2: and a chugging.

90

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: and such an ungodly racket

M 1: that Trurl began to think of adding a special mentation

muffler.

M 3: Meanwhile the machine labored on, as if it had been given

the most difficult problem in the Universe to solve;

F 2: the ground shook,

F 1: the sand slid underfoot from the vibration,

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: valves popped like champagne corks,

F 1: the relays nearly gave way under the strain.

M 1: (Tapping his foot) At last, when Trurl had grown

extremely impatient,

M 3: the machine ground to a halt

F 1 and

F 2: and said in a voice like thunder:

M 3: "SEVEN!"

M 1: (Not too upset by this turn of events) "Nonsense, the

answer is four. Now be a good machine and adjust yourself!

What's two and two?"

91

M 3: (Snappishly) "SEVEN!"

M 1: (Again, Trurl's actions suit the words as he clambers

around on the boxes, crawling, pounding, etc., as necessary

to suggest—though not actually mime—the actions

described) Trurl sighed and put his coveralls back on,

rolled up his sleeves, opened the bottom trapdoor and

crawled in. For the longest time, he hammered away inside,

tightened, soldered, ran clattering up and down the metal

stairs, now on the sixth floor, now on the eighth, then

pounded back down to the bottom and threw a switch,

F 1: but something sizzled in the middle,

F 2: and the spark plugs grew blue whiskers.

M 1: After two hours of this he came out, covered with soot but

satisfied, put all his tools away, took off his coveralls,

wiped his face and hands. As he was leaving, he turned and

asked, just so there would be no doubt about it: "And

now what's two and two?"

M 3: "SEVEN!"

M 1: Trurl uttered a terrible oath and collapsed in despair at

the foot of the machine; he sat there until Klapaucius

(M 2 turns stool slightly in, toward center) found him.

M 2: (Crosses to Trurl) Klapaucius inquired what was wrong, for

Trurl looked as if he had just returned from a funeral.

M 1: Trurl explained the problem.

92

M 2: (Again, Klapaucius's actions suggest the words) Klapaucius

crawled into the machine himself a couple of times, tried

to fix this and that, then asked it for the sum of one plus

two,

M 3: which turned out to be six.

F 1: One plus one,

F 2: according to the machine,

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: equaled zero.

M 2: Klapaucius scratched his head, cleared his throat and said:

"My friend, you'll just have to face it. That isn't the

machine you wished to make. However, there's a good side

to everything, including this."

M 1: "What good side?" (Kicks base of machine, where he is

sitting)

M 3: "Stop that."

M 2: "H'm, it's sensitive too. But where was I? Oh yes . . .

there's no question but that we have here a stupid machine,

and not merely stupid in the usual, normal way, oh no! This

is, as far as I can determine—and you know that I am some­

thing of an expert—this is the stupidest thinking machine

in the entire world, and that's nothing to sneeze at! To

construct deliberately, such a machine would be far from

easy; in fact, I would say that no one could manage it. For

93

the thing is not only stupid, but stubborn as a mule, that

is, it has a personality in common to idiots!"

M 1: (Stands) "What earthly use do I have for such a machine?!"

(M 1 kicks it again)

M 3: "I'm warning you, you better stop!"

M 2: "A warning, if you please. Not only is it sensitive, dense

and stubborn, but quick to take offense, and believe me,

with such an abundance of qualities there are all sorts of

things you might do!"

M 1: (Moving closer to M 2) "What, for example?"

M 2: "Well, it's hard to say offhand. You might put it on

exhibit and charge admission; people would flock to see the

stupidest thinking machine that ever was. And the exhibi­

tion would not only cover your costs, but—"

M 1: (Turning away in irritation) "Enough, I'm not holding an

exhibition!" Trurl, unable to restrain himself, (Does it)

kicked the machine once more.

M 3: "This is your third warning,"

M 1: "What? You , . . you . . . You're only good for kicking,

you know that?"

M 3: "You have insulted me for the fourth, fifth, sixth, and

eighth times. Therefore I refuse to answer all further

questions of a mathematical nature."

94

M 1: "It refuses! Do you hear that? After six comes eight—did

you notice, Klapaucius?—not seven, but eight! And that's

the kind of mathematics His Highness refuses to perform!

(Kicking machine a few more times) Take that! And that!

And that! Or perhaps you'd like some more?"

F 2: The machine shuddered, shook, and without another word

started to lift itself from its foundations.

F 1: It bore down on Trurl and Klapaucius like a moving fortress.

M 1: Trurl was so dumbfounded that he didn't even try to hide

from the machine,

M 1 and

F 1: which to all appearances intended to crush him to a pulp.

M 2: But Klapaucius grabbed his arm and yanked him away,

M 1 and

M 2: and the two of them took to their heels.

(M 1 and M 2 begin to move slightly away from the machine

in the direction of M I's stool, their manner suggesting

haste. They stop about halfway there.)

M 2: When they finally looked back,

M 1 and

M 2: they saw the machine

M 1, M

2, and

F 1: swaying like a high tower,

95

M 1, M

2, F 1,

and F 2: advancing slowly,

ALL: and heading straight for them.

M 1: ("Huddling" with M 2) "Whoever heard of such a thing?

Why, this is mutiny! What do we do now?"

M 2: "Wait and watch. We may learn something."

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: But there was nothing to be learned just then.

F 2: The machine was gathering momentum,

F 1: clearly bent on running them down,

M 1 and

M 2: so they fled just as fast as they could,

M 2: the fearful rhythm of crunching steps in their ears.

M 1: They ran and ran—

M 2: what else could they do?

M 1: They tried to make it back to their native district,

M 3: but the machine outflanked them, cut them off, forced them

deeper and deeper into a wild uninhabited region.

F 1: Mountains, dismal and craggy, slowly rose out of the mist.

96

M 1* Listen! Let's turn into some narrow canyon . . . where it

won't be able to follow us. . . ."

(M 1 and M 2 finish the cross to M I's stool during the

following description. They use the stool as the cave,

hiding behind it.)

M 2: So they raced uphill,

M 1: stumbling and waving their arms to keep their balance,

M 3: but the machine still gained on them.

M 1: Scrambling up over the gravel of a dried out riverbed,

M 2: they reached a crevice in the perpendicular rock

M 1: and, seeing high above them the murky mouth of a cave,

began to climb frantically toward it,

M 2: no longer caring about the loose stones that flew from

under their feet,

M 1: The opening in the rock breathed chill and darkness,

M 2: As quickly as they could, they leaped inside, ran a few

extra steps, then stopped.

M 1: "Well, here at least we're safe. I'll just take a look,

to see where it got stuck. . . . "

M 2: "Be careful,"

97

M 1: (Inching around to peep over top of stool) Trurl inched his

way to the edge of the cave, leaned out, and (Does it)

immediately jumped back in fright. "It's coming up the

mountain!!"

M 2: "Don't worry, it'll never be able to get in here. But

what's that? Is it getting dark? Oh no!"

F 1= At that moment a great shadow blotted out the bit of sky

visible through the mouth of the cave,

F 2: and in its place appeared a smooth steel wall with rows of

rivets.

M 3: It was the machine slowly closing with the rock,

M 1, M

2, and

M 3: thereby sealing up the cave as if with a mighty metal lid.

M 1: "We're trapped. . . . "

M 2: "That was idiotic on our part! To jump into a cave it

could barricade! How could we have done such a thing?"

M 1: "What do you think it's waiting for now?"

M 2: "For us to give up—that doesn't take any great brains."

M 1: (Creeps around stool again, using his hand to grope toward

"machine" with M 2 close behind) Trurl crept into the

darkness, hands outstretched, in the direction of the

opening, running his fingers along the stone until he

98

touched the smooth steel, which was warm, as if heated

from within. . ."

M 3: "I feel Trurl . . . "

M 1: (Jumps back, almost knocking M 2 over) Trurl hastily

retreated, took a seat alongside his friend, and for some

time they sat there, motionless.

M 2: "There's no sense our just sitting here. I'll try to

reason with it. . . . "

M 1: "That's hopeless. But go ahead. Perhaps it will at least

let you go free. . . . "

M 2: (Patting M I's shoulder) "Now, now, none of that!" And

Klapaucius groped his way toward the mouth of the cave and

called: "Hello out there, can you hear us?"

ll-tT H M 3: "Yes,

M 2: "Listen, we'd like to apologize. You see . . . well,

there was a little misunderstanding, true, but it was

nothing, really. Trurl had no intention of . . ."

M 3: "I'll pulverize Trurl! But first he'll tell me how much

two and two makes."

M 2: "Of course he will, of course he will, and you'll be happy

with his answer, and make it up with him for sure: isn't

that right, Trurl?"

M 1: "Yes, of course , , ."

99

M 3: "Really? Then how much is two and two?"

M 1: "Fo . . , that is, seven . . . "

M 3: "Ha! Not four, but seven, eh? There, I told you so!"

M 2: "Seven, yes, seven, we always knew it was seven! Now

will you, eh, let us go?"

M 3: "No. Let Trurl say how sorry he is and tell me how much

is two times two . . . "

M 1: "And you'll let us go if I do?"

M 3: "I don't know. I'll think about it. I'm not making any

deals. What's two times two?"

M 1: "But you probably will let us go, won't you?"

M 2: (Aside to M 1) "The thing's an imbecile, don't argue

with it, for heaven's sake!"

M 3: "I won't let you go, if I don't want to. You just tell

me how much two times two is."

M 1: (In a sudden rage) "I'll tell you, I'll tell you all

right. Two and two is four and two times two is four,

even if you stand on your head, pound these mountains all

to dust, drink the ocean dry and swallow the sky—do you

hear? Two and two is four!!"

M 2: "Trurl! What are you saying? Have you taken leave of your

senses? Two and two is seven, nice machine! Seven, seven!!"

100

M 1: "No! It's four! Four and only four, four from the

beginning to the end of time—FOUR!!"

F 1: The rock beneath their feet was seized with a feverish

tremor.

F 2: The machine moved away from the cave, letting in a little

pale light.

M 3: "That's not true. It's seven. Say it's seven or I'll

hit you!"

M 1: "Never!"

M 1 and

M 2: Pebbles and dirt rained down on their heads,

M 3: for the machine had begun to ram its eight-story hulk

again and again into the wall of stone, hurling itself

against the mountainside

F 2: until huge boulders broke away and went tumbling down into

the valley.

F 1: Thunder and sulferous fumes filled the cave, and sparks

flew from the blows of steel on rock. , . .

M 1: "Two and two is four! Two and two is four!!"

M 2: (Tries to put his hand over M I's mouth, but is bitten and

then shaken off) Klapaucius attempted to shut his friend's

mouth by force, but, violently thrown off, he gave up, sat

and covered his head with his arms.

101

F 1: Not for a moment did the machine's mad efforts flag, and it

seemed that any moment now the ceiling would collapse,

crush the prisoners and bury them forever.

M 2: But when they had lost all hope,

F 2: and the air was thick with acrid smoke and choking dust,

F 1: there was suddenly a horrible scraping,

F 2: and a sound like a slow explosion,

F 1: louder than all the maniacal banging and battering,

F 2: and the air whooshed,

F 1: and the black wall that blocked the cave was whisked away,

F 2: as if by a hurricane,

F 1: and monstrous chunks of rocks came crashing down after it.

(Pause) The echoes of that avalanche still rumbled and

reverberated in the valley below when the two friends (M 1

and M 2 peep over stool) peered out of their cave.

(M 1 and M 2 cautiously emerge from behind the stool.)

M 1 and

M 2: They saw the machine.

M l : It lay smashed and flattened, nearly broken in half by an

enormous boulder that had landed in the middle of its

eight floors.

102

M 2: With the greatest care they picked their way down through

the smoking rubble. (They carefully cross toward center

during the descriptive passage) In order to reach the

riverbed, it was necessary to pass the remains of the

machine, which resembled the wreck of some mighty vessel

thrown up upon a beach.

M 1: Without a word, the two stopped (They do, just shy of

center) together in the shadow of its twisted hull.

M 3: The machine quivered slightly. . . .

M 1: (Gloating) "Yes, this is the bad end you've come to, and

two and two is—as it always was—"

M 3: "SEVEN."

M 1: Then something snapped inside, and now before them lay

nothing but a lifeless mass of scrap.

F 2: The two constructors exchanged a look

F 1: and walked back the way they came.

(During the preceding, M 1 and M 2 do exchange a look; M 2

puts his hand on M I's shoulder, and they take one more

step toward center. Everyone freezes for a count of two.

Then we hear another electronic tune, one that sounds like

a little cart with one square wheel going along. M 3

stands, offers one hand to F 1, and she takes it, all

matched to the musical beat. The process is repeated for

F 2, The three then go through a series of stylized move­

ments which result in moving F 1 to the center position,

F 2 to F I's original place, and M 3 to F 2's original

103

place. While this happens, M 1 tries to join in, but is

repulsed by the three, who push him back toward M 2. M 2

catches M 1 as he staggers back, leads him into a turn, and

sends him back to his own stool; M 2 returns to his stool.

We are now ready for "Trurl's Electronic Bard." The music

ends just as everyone is in place.)

M 1: Later it happened that in keeping with that ancient custom

of sallying forth, Trurl and Klapaucius,

M 2: who could kindle or extinguish suns as easily as shelling

peas,

M 1: attempted another such sally.

M 3: To avoid any possible misunderstanding, we should state

that this was, strictly speaking, a sally to nowhere. In

fact,

M 1: Trurl never left his house throughout it—except for a few

trips to the hospital and an unimportant excursion to some

asteroid.

F 2: Yet in a deeper and/or higher sense this was one of the

furthest sallies ever attempted by the famed constructor,

M 3: for it very nearly took him beyond the realm of possi­

bility,

M 1: Trurl had once had the misfortune to build an enormous

calculating machine that was capable of only one operation,

namely the addition of two and two, and that it did incor­

rectly.

104

M 2: From that time on Klapaucius teased Trurl unmercifully,

M 1: until Trurl decided to silence him once and for all by

building a machine that could write poetry.

F 2: First Trurl collected eight hundred and twenty tons of

books on cybernetics and twelve thousand tons of the finest

poetry,

M 1: then sat down to read it all. Whenever he felt he just

couldn't take another chart or equation, he would switch

over to verse,"and vice versa. After a while it became

clear to him that the construction of the machine itself

was child's play in comparison with the writing of the

program.

M 3: The program found in the head of an average poet, after

all, was written by the poet's civilization,

F 2: and that civilization was, in turn, programmed by the

civilization that preceded it, and so on to the very Dawn

of Time,

M 3: when those bits of information that concerned the poet-to-

be were still swirling about in the primordial chaos of

the cosmic deep.

F 2: Hence in order to program a poetry machine, one would have

to repeat the entire Universe from the beginning—

M 3: or at least a good piece of it.

F 2: Anyone else in Trurl's place would have given up then and

there.

105

M 1: (Standing and crossing toward the center box) but our

intrepid constructor was nothing daunted. He built a

machine and fashioned a digital model of the Void,

M 3: an Electrostatic Spirit to move upon the face of the

electrolytic waters,

M 1: (Steps onto lower level of platform) and he introduced the

parameter of light, (Steps onto next level) a protogalactic

cloud or two, (Steps onto top level) and by degrees worked

his way up to the first ice age—

F 2: Trurl could move at this rate because his machine was able,

in one five-billionth of a second, to simulate one hundred

septillion events at forty octillion different locations

simultaneously.

M 3: And if anyone questions these figures, let him work it out

for himself.

M 1: Next Trurl began to model Civilization,

F 2: the striking of fires with flints

M 3: and the tanning of hides,

F 2: and he provided for dinosaurs and floods,

M 1: then made the paleopaleface, which begat the paleface,

which begat the gadget,

M 3: and so it went, from eon to millenium, the endless hum of

electrical currents and eddies.

106

^ 2: Often the machine turned out to be too small for the com­

puter simulation of a new epoch,

M 3: and Trurl would have to tack on an auxiliary unit—

M 3: until he ended up with a veritable metropolis of tubes and

terminals, circuits and shunts,

F 2: all so tangled and involved that the devil himself

couldn't have made head or tail of it.

M 1: But Trurl managed somehow, he only had to go back twice—

once, almost to the beginning when he discovered that

Abel had murdered Cain and not Cain Abel (the result,

apparently, of a defective fuse) and once, only three

hundred million years back to the middle of the Mesozoic,

when after going from fish to amphibian to reptile to

mammal, something odd took place among the primates, and

instead of great apes he came out with gray drapes.

Otherwise everything went like a dream.

F 2: Spool after spool of computerized history was filled and

ejected into storage bins; soon there were so many spools,

that even if you stood at the top of the machine with

binoculars, you wouldn't see the end of them.

M 3: And all to construct some versifier!

F 2: But then such is the way of scientific fanaticism.

M 3: At least the programs were ready; all that remained was to

pick the most applicable—else the electropoet's education

would take several million years at the very least.

107

M 1: During the next two weeks Trurl fed general instructions

into his future electropoet, then set up all the necessary

logic circuits, emotive elements, semantic centers.

(Starts to climb down from behind F 1, but then comes

back) He was about to invite Klapaucius to attend a trial

run, but thought better of it and started the machine him­

self.

F 1: It immediately began to deliver a lecture on the grinding

of crystallographical surfaces as an introduction to the

study of submolecular magnetic anomalies.

M 1: (Works on machine as appropriate during following section)

Trurl bypassed half the logic circuits and made the emotive

more electromotive;

F 1: the machine sobbed, went into hysterics, then finally said,

blubbering terribly, what cruel, cruel world this was.

M 1: Trurl intensified the semantic fields and added a strength

of character component;

F 1: the machine informed him that from now on he would carry

out its every wish and to begin with add six floors to the

nine it already had, so it could better meditate upon the

meaning of existence.

M 1: Trurl installed a philosophical throttle instead;

F 1: the machine fell silent and sulked.

M 1: Only after endless cajoling was he able to get it to recite

something:

108

F 1: "I had a little froggy."

F 2: That appeared to exhaust its repertoire.

M 1: (Moving from level to level) Trurl adjusted, modulated,

expostulated, disconnected, ran checks, reconnected, reset,

did everything he could think of.

F 1: and the machine presented him with a poem

M 1: that made him thank heaven Klapaucius wasn't there to

laugh—imaginei simulating the Universe from scratch, not

to mention Civilization in every particular, and to end up

with such dreadful doggeral! Trurl put in six cliche

filters,

F 2: but they snapped like matches;

M l : he had to make them out of pure corundum steel.

M 3: This seemed to work.

M l : so he jacked the semanticity up all the way, plugged in an

alternating rhyme generator—

M 3: which nearly destroyed everything,

F 1: since the machine resolved to become a missionary among

destitute tribes on far-flung planets.

M 1: But at the very last minute, just as he was ready to give

up and take a hammer to it, Trurl was struck by an

inspiration; tossing out all the logic circuits, he

109

replaced them with self-regulating egocentripetal narcis-

sators.

F 1: The machine simpered a little, whimpered a little, laughed

bitterly, complained of an awful pain on its third floor,

said that in general it was fed up, through, life was

beautiful but men were such beasts and how sorry they'd

all be when it was dead and gone. Then it asked for pen

and paper.

M 1: Trurl sighed with relief, switched it off (Crosses to M 2)

and went to see Klapaucius.

M 2: (As he and M 1 come toward the machine) Klapaucius, hearing

that he was invited to attend the debut of Trurl's elec­

tronic bard, dropped everything and followed—so eager was

he to be an eyewitness to his friend's humiliation.

M 1: (Climbs onto center boxes, tinkers, and stands behind F 1

as appropriate during the following) Trurl let the machine

warm up first, kept the power low, ran up the metal stairs

several times to take readings—till finally satisfied all

the decimal places were where they ought to be, he said,

yes, it was ready now, and why not start with something

simple. Later, of course, when the machine had gotten the

feel of it, Klapaucius could ask it to produce poetry on

absolutely whatever topic he liked,

F 2: Now the potentiometers indicated the machine's lyrical

capacity was charged to maximum,

M 1: and Trurl, so nervous his hands were shaking, threw the

master switch.

110

F 1: "Phlogisticosh. Rhomothriglyph. Floof."

M 2: "Am I missing something?"

M 1: (Again "tinkers" with machine as suggested by description)

Trurl waved his arms in despair, dashed clattering several

flights up the metal stairs, got down on all fours and

crawled into the machine through a trapdoor; he hammered

away inside, swearing like a maniac, tightened something,

pried at something, crawled out again and ran frantically

to another tier. At long last he let out a cry of triumph,

threw a burnt tube over his shoulder—

M 3: it bounced off the railing and fell to the floor, shattering

at the feet of Klapaucius.

(M 2 reacts to the tube's shattering.)

M 1: But Trurl didn't bother to apologize, he quickly put in a

new tube, wiped his hands on a chammy cloth and hollered

down for Klapaucius to try it now.

(M 2 switches the machine on.)

F 1: "Mockles! Fent on silpen tree,

Blockards three a-feening,

Mockles, what silps came to thee

In thy pantry dreaming?"

M 1: "Well, that's an improvement! The last line particularly,

did you notice?"

M 2: "If this is all you have to show me . . ."

Ill

M 1: "Damn!" Trurl yanked out a few cables in a fury,

F 2: something rattled and wheezed,

F 1: the machine fell silent.

M 2: (Reacting and sitting) Klapaucius laughed so hard he had

to sit on the floor.

M 3: Then suddenly,

M l : as Trurl was rushing back and forth,

M 3: there was a crackle and a clack. . . .

F 1: "The Petty and the Small

Are overcome with gall

When Genius, having faltered, fails to fall.

"Klapaucius too, I ween.

Will turn the deepest green

To hear such flawless verse from Trurl's

machine,"

M 1: (Having reacted to this with delight, starts down from

boxes to floor) "There you are, an epigram! And

wonderfully apropos!"

M 2: Klapaucius, quite taken aback, was no longer laughing.

"What, that? That's nothing. Besides, you had it all set

up beforehand."

M 1: "Set up?"

112

M 2: (Rising) "Oh, it's quite obvious . . . the ill-disguised

hostility, the poverty of thought, the crudeness of

execution."

M 1: "All right, then ask it something else! Whatever you like!

Go on! What are you waiting for? Afraid?!

M 2: "Just a minute." Klapaucius was trying to think of a

request as difficult as possible. "Have it compose a

poem—a poem about a haircut! But lofty, noble, tragic,

timeless, full of love, treachery, retribution, quiet heroism

in the face of certain doom! Six lines, cleverly rhymed,

and every word beginning with the letter s^l !"

M 1: "And why not throw in a full exposition of the general

theory of nonlinear automata while you're at it? How dare

you waste a great talent on such drivel? (Turns back on

Klapaucius and goes to sit down on first level beside

machine) Either give it decent poems to write or I call

the whole thing off!"

M 2: "What, that isn't a decent poem?"

M 1: "Certainly not? I didn't build a machine to solve

ridiculous crossword puzzles! That's hack work, not Great

Art! Just give it a topic, any topic, as difficult as you

like . II

M 2: Klapaucius thought and thought some more. Finally he

nodded and said: "Very well. Let's have a love poem,

lyrical, pastoral, and expressed in the language of pure

mathematics. Tensor algebra mainly, with a little topology

and higher calculus, if need be. But with feeling, you

understand, and in the cybernetic spirit."

113

M 1: (Stands and strides toward M 2) "Love and tensor angebra?

Have you taken leave of your senses?"

(As F 1 recites, the tension drains from M I's body to be

replaced with wonder and pride; M 2, however, is definitely

not pleased with the turn of events.)

F 1: "Come, let us hasten to a higher plane.

Where dyads tread the fairy fields of Venn,

Their indices bedecked from one to n_.

Commingled in an endless Markov chain!

"Come, every frustum longs to be a cone.

And every vector dreams of matrices . . .

Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze:

It whispers of a more ergodic zone.

"In Riemann, Hilbert, or in Banach space

Let superscripts and subscripts go their ways.

Our as3nnptotes no longer out of phase.

We shall encounter, counting, face to face.

"I'll grant thee random access to my heart.

Thou'It tell me all the constants of thy love;

And so we two shall all love's lemmas prove.

And in our bound partition never part.

"I see the eigenvalue in thine eye,

I hear the tender tensor of thy sigh.

Bernoulli would have been content to die, 2

Had he but known such a cos 2$!"

M 3: This concluded the poetic competition,

114

M 2: (Crossing to stool and sitting) since Klapaucius suddenly

had to leave, saying he would return shortly with more

topics for the machine;

F 2: but he never did.

M 1: (Strolls casually and smugly to his stool) Trurl of course

let it be known that Klapaucius fled in order to hide his

envy and chagrin.

M 2: (Swivels slightly on stool, with an air of disdain, so his

back is toward"F 1) Klapaucius meanwhile spread the word

that Trurl had more than one screw loose on the subject of

that so-called mechanical versifier.

M 3: Not much time went by before news of Trurl's computer

laureate reached the genuine—that is, the ordinary—poets.

F 2: Deeply offended, they resolved to ignore the machine's

existence.

M 3: A few, however, were curious enough to visit Trurl's

electronic bard in secret.

F 1: It received them courteously, in a hall piled high with

closely written paper (for it worked night and day).

F 2: Now these poets were all avant-garde

F 1: and Trurl's machine wrote only in the traditional manner;

M 1: Trurl,

115

F 1: no connoisseur of poetry,

M 1: had relied heavily on the classics in setting up the program.

F 2: The machine's guests jeered and left in triumph.

F 1: The machine was self-programming however, and in addition

had a special ambition-amplifying mechanism with glory-

seeking circuits, and very soon a great change took place.

M 3: Its poems became difficult, ambiguous, so intricate and

charged with meaning that they were totally incompre­

hensible.

F 2: When the next group of poets came to mock and laugh,

F 1: the machine replied with an improvisation that was so

modern, it took their breath away,

F 2: and the second poem seriously weakened a certain sonneteer

who had two State awards to his name, not to mention a

statue in the city park.

M 3: After that, no poet could resist the fatal urge to cross

lyrical swords with Trurl's electronic bard. They came

from far and wide, carrying trunks and suitcases full of

manuscripts.

F 1: The machine would let each challenger recite, instantly

grasp the algorithm of his verse, and use it to compose

an answer in exactly the same style,

F 2: only two hundred and twenty to three hundred and forty-

seven times better.

116

F 1: The machine quickly grew so adept at this, that it could cut

down a first-class rhapsodist with no more than one or two

quatrains.

M 3: But the worst of it was, all the third-rate poets emerged

unscathed; being third-rate, they didn't know good poetry

from bad and consequently had no inkling of their crushing

defeat,

F 2: One of them, true, broke his leg when, on the way out, he

tripped over an epic poem the machine had just completed,

a prodigious work beginning with the words:

F 1: "Arms and machines I sing . II

M 3: The true poets, on the other hand, were decimated by

Trurl's electronic bard, though it never laid a finger in

them.

F 2: First an aged elegiast, then two modernists committed

suicide, leaping off a cliff that unfortunately happened

to lie hard by the road leading from Trurl's place to the

nearest train station.

M 3: There were many poet protests staged, demonstrations,

demands that the machine be served an injunction to cease

and desist.

F 2: But no one else seemed to care. In fact, magazine editors

generally approved.

F 1: Trurl's electronic bard writing under several thousand dif­

ferent pseudonyms at once, had a poem for every occasion,

to fit whatever length might be required, and of such high

117

quality that the magazine would be torn from hand to hand by

eager readers.

M 3: On the street one could see enraptured faces, bemused

smiles, sometimes even hear a quiet sob.

F 2: Everyone knew the poem's of Trurl's electronic bard, the

air rang with its delightful rhymes.

M 3: Not infrequently, those citizens of a greater sensitivity,

F 2: struck by a particularly marvelous metaphor or assonace,

M 3: would actually fall into a faint.

M 1: Trurl himself had no little trouble in connection with his

invention. The classicists, generally elderly, were

fairly harmless; they confined themselves to throwing stones

through his window and smearing the sides of his house with

an unmentionable substance. But it was much worse with the

younger poets. One, for example, as powerful in body as

his verse was in imagery, beat Trurl to a pulp.

F 2: And while the constructor lay in the hospital, events

marched on. Not a day passed without a suicide or a

funeral; picket lines formed around the hospital; one could

hear gunfire in the distance—

M 3: instead of manuscripts in their suitcases, more and more

poets were bringing rifles to defeat Trurl's electronic

bard.

F 1: But the bullets merely bounced off its calm exterior.

118

M 1: After his return from the hospital, Trurl, weak and desper­

ate, finally decided one night to (Rises, crosses to

machine) dismantle the homeostatic Homer he had created.

But when he approached the machine, limping slightly,

M 1 and

F 1: it noticed the pliers in his hand and the grim glitter in

his eye,

F 1: and delivered such an eloquent, impassioned plea for mercy,

M 1: (Distraught, returns to stool) that the constructor burst

into tears, threw down his tools and hurried back to his

room, wading through new piles of genius. (Sits) The

following month Trurl received a bill for the electricity

consiimed by the machine and almost fell off his chair. If

only he could consult his old friend Klapaucius!

M 2: (Very smug) But Klapaucius was nowhere to be found.

M 1: (Standing and moving down toward audience) So Trurl had

to come up with something himself. One dark night he

unplugged the machine, took it apart, loaded it onto a

ship, flew to a certain small asteroid, and there

assembled it again, giving it an atomic pile for its

source of creative energy. ("Sneaks" back to stool, sits)

Then he sneaked home.

F 1: The electronic bard deprived now of the possibility of

having its masterpieces published, began to broadcast them

on all wavelengths,

119

F 2: which soon sent the passengers and crews of passing rockets

into states of stanzaic stupefaction, and those more deli­

cate souls were seized with severe attacks of esthetic

ecstasy besides.

M 3: Having determined the cause of this disturbance, the Cosmic

Fleet Command issued Trurl an official request for the

immediate termination of his device.

M l : At that point Trurl went into hiding, (Swivels on stool so

back is toward audience, huddles down)

M 3: so they dropped a team of technicians on the asteroid to

gag the machine's output unit.

F 1: It overwhelmed them with a few ballads, however,

F 2: and the mission had to be abandoned.

M 3: Deaf technicians were sent next,

F 1: but the machine employed pantomime.

F 2: After that there began to be talk of an eventual punitive

expedition, of bombing the electropoet into submission.

M 3: But just then some ruler from a neighboring star system

came, bought the machine and hauled it off, asteroid and

all, to his kingdom.

M 1: (Swivels on stool to rejoin scene) Now Trurl could appear

in public again and breathe easy.

120

F 2: True, lately there had been supernovae exploding on the

southern horizon, and there were some rumors that this had

something to do with poetry.

M 3: According to one report, that same ruler, moved by some

strange whim, had ordered his astroengineers to connect the

electronic bard to a constellation of white super-giants,

thereby transforming each line of verse into a stupendous

solar prominence.

M 1: But even if there were any truth to this, it was all too

far away to bother Trurl, who vowed by everything that was

ever held sacred never, never again to make a cybernetic

model of the Muse.

(Once again, we have a freeze of 2 counts, then hear the

little cart music again. The narrators perform basically

the same steps as before, so that F 2 winds up in the

center position with F 1 to her right and M 3 to her left.

M 1 and M 2, meanwhile, approach each other warily at first,

but then with their friendly feelings winning through as

they meet at center stage and do a little dance step or two

of their own before returning to their stools. Everyone

sits as the music ends. We are ready for "How the World

Was Saved,")

M 1: One day Trurl the constructor put together a machine that

could create anything starting with n. When it was ready,

(Stands, crosses to machine) he tried it out, ordering it

to make needles, then nankeens and negligees,

F 2: which it did.

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M 1: Still not completely sure of its abilities, (Climbs boxes

to stand behind F 2) he had it produce, one after the other,

nimbuses, noodles, nuclei, neutrons, maptha, noses, nymphs,

naiads, and natrium.

F 2: This last it could not do,

M 1: and Trurl, considerably irritated, demanded an explanation.

F 2: "Never heard of it."

M 1: "What? It's only sodium. You know, the metal, the element II

• • •

F 2: "Sodium starts with an s, and I only work in ii. "

M 1: "But in Latin it's natrium."

F 2: "Look, old boy, if I could do everything starting with ri in

every possible language, I'd be a Machine That Could Do

Everything in the Whole Alphabet, since any item you care

to mention undoubtedly starts with n. in one foreign

language or another. It's not that easy. I can't go

beyond what you programmed. So no sodium."

M 1: "Very well." Then Trurl ordered it to make Night,

F 2: which it made at once—

F 1: small perhaps,

M 3: but perfectly nocturnal.

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M 1: (Goes down, crosses to M 2 and brings him back to center

stage) Only then did Trurl invite over his friend

Klapaucius the constructor, and introduced him to the

machine, praising its extraordinary skill at such length,

M 2: that Klapaucius grew annoyed and inquired whether he too

might not test the machine.

M 1: (Sitting on first level, slightly to F 2's right) "Be ray

guest. But it has to start with n_."

M 2: "N? All right,' let it make Nature."

M 3: In a trice Trurl's front yard was packed with naturalists

F 1: They argued,

M 3: each publishing heavy volumes,

F 1: which the others tore to pieces;

M 3: in the distance one could see flaming pyres,

F 1: on which martyrs to nature were sizzling;

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: there was thunder,

F 1 and

M 3: and strange mushroom-shaped columns of smoke rose up;

123

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: (Overlapping each other) everyone talked at once,

M 3: no one listened,

F 1: and there were all sorts of memoranda, appeals, subpoenas,

and other documents,

M 3: while off to the side sat a few old men, feverishly

scribbling on scraps of paper,

M 1: "Not bad, eh? Nature to a T, admit it!"

M 2: "What, that mob? Surely you're not going to tell me that's

Nature?"

M 1: "Then give the machine something else. Whatever you like."

M 2: For a moment Klapaucius was at a loss for what to ask. But

after a little thought he declared that he would put two

more tasks to the machine; if it could fulfill them, he

would admit that it was all Trurl said it was.

M 1: Trurl agreed to this,

M 2: whereupon Kalpaucius requested Negative.

M 1: "Negative?! What on earth is Negative?"

M 2: "The opposite of positive, of course. Negative attitudes,

the negative of a picture, for example. Now don't try to

pretend you never heard of Negative. All right, machine,

get to work!"

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F 2: The machine, however, had already begun. First it manufac­

tured antiprotons, then antielectrons, antineutrons, anti-

neutrinos, and labored on, until from out of all this

antimatter an antiworld took shape,

M 1, M

2, and

F 2: glowing like a ghostly cloud above their heads.

M 2: "H'm, that's supposed to be Negative? Well . . . let's

say it is, for the sake of peace. . . . But now here's the

third command:' Machine, do Nothing!"

M 3: The machine sat still.

M 1: "Well, what did you expect? You asked it to do nothing,

and it's doing nothing."

M 2: "Correction, I asked it to do Nothing and it's doing

nothing,"

M 1: "Nothing is nothing."

M 2: "Come, come. It was supposed to do Nothing, but it hasn't

done anything and therefore I've won. For Nothing, my dear

and clever colleague, is not your run-of-the-mill nothing,

the result of idleness and inactivity, but dynamic, aggres­

sive Nothingness, that is to say, perfect, unique, ubiqui­

tous, in other words Nonexistence!"

M 1: (Striding angrily toward M 2) "You're confusing the

machine!"

125

F 2: "Really how can you two bicker at a time like this? Oh yes,

I know what Nothing is, and Nothingness, Nonexistence, Non­

entity, Negation, Nullity and Nihility, since all these

come under the heading of n, n as in Nil. Look then upon

your world for the last time, gentlemen! Soon it shall no

longer be . . ."

M 1 and

M 2: The constructors froze, forgetting their quarrel,

F 2: for the machine was in actual fact doing Nothing,

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: and it did it in this fashion:

F 2: one by one, various things were removed from the world,

M 3: and the things, thus removed, ceased to exist,

ALL: as if they had never been.

F 2: The machine had already disposed of nolars, nightzebs,

noes, necs, nallyrakers, neotremes, and nonmalrigers.

F 1: At moments, though, it seemed that instead of reducing,

diminishing, and subtracting, the machine was increasing,

enhancing, and adding,

F 2: since it liquidated, in turn: nonconformists, nonentities,

nonsense, nonsupport, nearsightedness, narrow-mindedness,

naughtiness, neglect, nausea, necrophilia and nepotism.

126

M 3: But after a while the world very definitely began to thin out

around Trurl and Klapaucius.

M 1: Ohmigosh! If only nothing bad comes out of all of

this . . . "

M 2: "Don't worry. You can see it's not producing Universal

Nothingness, but only causing the absence of whatever

starts with n. Which is really nothing in the way of

nothing, and nothing, dear Trurl, is what your machine is

worth!"

F 2: "Do not be deceived. I've begun, it's true, with everything

in ri, but only out of familiarity. To create however is one

thing, to destroy another thing entirely. I can blot out

the world for the simple reason that I'm able to do anything

and everything—and everything means everything—in ri, and

consequently Nothingness is child's play for me. In less

than a minute now you will cease to have existence, along

with everything else, so tell me now, Klapaucius, and

quickly that I am really and truly everything I was pro­

grammed to be, before it is too late."

M 2: "But—" Klapaucius was about to protest, but noticed, just

then, that a number of things were indeed disappearing,

M 1 and

M 2: and not merely those that started with ri.

ALL: The constructors were no longer surrounded by the gruncheons,

M 1, M

2, F 1,

and F 2: the targalisks.

127

M 1, M

2, and

F 2:

M 1 and

M 2:

the thirsts.

worches.

M 1: and pritons.

M 2: "Stop! I take it all back! Desist! Whoa! Don't do

Nothing!"

F 2: But before the machine could come to a full stop,

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: all the brashations,

F 2 and

M 3: pulsters,

F 2: laries

M 2: and zits had vanished away.

F 2: Now the machine stood motionless.

F 1: The world was a dreadful sight.

M 3: The sky had particularly suffered:

M 1: (Backing up slowly to sit on first level to F 2's right,

stunned) there were only a few, isolated points of light

in the heavens—

128

M 2: no trace of the glorious worches and zits

M 1 and

M 2: that had, till now, graced the horizon!

M 2: "Great Gauss! And where are the gruncheons? Where now the

gentle zits?"

F 2: "They no longer are, nor ever will exist again. I executed,

or rather only began to execute, your order . . . "

M 2: "I tell you to'do Nothing, and you . . . you . . . "

F 2: "Klapaucius, don't pretend to be a greater idiot than you

are. Had I made Nothing outright, in one fell swoop,

everything would have ceased to exist, and that includes

Trurl, the sky, the Universe, and you—and even myself. In

which case who could say and to whom could it be said that

the order was carried out and I am an efficient and capable

machine?"

M 2: "Yes, fine, let's drop the subject. I have nothing more

to ask of you, only please, dear machine, please return the

zits, for without them life loses all its charm . . . "

F 2: "But I can't, they're in z. Of course, I can restore

nonsense, narrow-mindedness, nausea, necrophilia, neuralgia,

nefariousness, and noxiousness. As for the other letters,

however, I can't help you."

M 2: "I want my zits!"

129

F 2: "Sorry, no zits. Take a good look at this world, how

riddled it is with huge gaping holes, how full of Nothing­

ness. This is your work, envious one! And I hardly think

future generations will bless you for it . . ."

M 2: "Perhaps . . . they won't find out, perhaps they won't

notice."

M 1: Leaving Trurl beside the machine that could do everything

in II,

M 2: (Crossing miserably to his stool and sitting) Klapaucius

skulked home—

F 1: and to this day the world has remained honeycombed with

nothingness,

M 3: exactly as it was when halted in the course of its liquida­

tion.

F 1: And as all subsequent attempts to build a machine on any

other letter met with failure,

M 3: it is to be feared that never again will we have such

marvelous phenomena as the worches and the zits—

F 1, F

2, and

M 3: no, never again.

(Once more, a freeze and a count of two. Different music

is heard this time. There is a definite strain of melan­

choly to it, but it is more thoughtful than depressing.

During the introduction, M 1 looks up and then over to M 2,

130

who is obviously miserable, grieving for his zits and the

other destruction he has caused. As the music moves into

the main theme of the piece, M 1 rises and crosses to M 2

and comforts him. M 2 rises, too, and they cross the stage

arm in arm to exit, comforting each other. As the con­

structors cross center stage, the narrators rise in unison.

M 3 helps F 2 down from the upper level, leading her around

so she is on his left. They cross together to reach F 1;

M 3 offers her his hand to help her get down from the lower

level, and she joins the other two on M 3's right. They

also exit arm in arm, but they are cool and collected, just

a few steps behind the constructors. After everyone is

gone, the music continues while the stage lights dim

slightly and then are gradually brought up with the house

lights to normal levels.)

APPENDIX C. FIGURES

1. Ground Plan

2. Elevation of Center Arrangement

131

132

if} o

o Figure 1. Ground Plan

O

i

UJ CD 3 U UJ o Q: <

UJ m 3 O

d <

2 CO

^

133

Figure 2. Elevation of Center Arrangement

APPENDIX D: AUDIENCE QUESTIONNAIRE

134

135

REACTIONS TO THE CYBERIAD

As you write your critique of The Cyberiad, please answer the

following questions on a separate sheet of paper. There are no right

or wrong answers to these questions, only the impression the show made

upon you. These answers will not be graded, but please answer in

detail, as these answers are vital to the research based on this pro­

duction.

1. What are Trurl and Klapaucius like, both in terms of personality

and physical presence?

2. What is their relationship to each other?

3. In what kind of society do they live? (Please provide as much

detail as you can based on the production.)

4. How do Trurl and Klapaucius relate to that society?

5. Please give an estimate of how many years in the future or the

past the stories take place. Do you think these stories take place

on this planet or on another one?

6. Do you think these stories necessarily take place in the order in

which they were presented? Why or why not?

7. What is the relationship between the physical setting used in this

production and the metaworld of the literature?

8. Discuss the possible significance of the lighting used during the

exit of the readers.

9. Are you familiar with any of Stanislaw Lem's writings? If so,

please list those books you have read.

136

10. Please list your experiences in the field of oral interpretation

(classes, performances, high school work, etc.).

Thank you for your cooperation in answering these questions!

Connie Tapp Bandy