Written with Joa Lazarus.
Synopsis
Joel and Eric are two 16-year-old best friends and promising athletes in the sport of fencing. Joel has created an elaborate fantasy world in which he imagines himself as a great French swordsman of the 18 th century. When Skelly, a school bully, insults the boys’ friend Louise, Joel challenges him to a duel. As he is about to seriously injure Skelly, Joel is stopped by the fencing teacher, Mrs. Thorpe, who then expels him from fencing class. This disaster leads the two boys through arguments and betrayals until they face each other, in the forest, at dawn, with sharpened blades.
Critical Responses
“I enjoyed Dreaming and Duelling very much. It had a lovely, pristine quality. It had a beautiful rise and fall.”
– Tennessee Williams in conversation, September, 1980
“ACTION AND ROMANCE IN JOHN LAZARUS PLAY… A script that promises and
delivers a touch of everything. Its fencing-class setting provides action aplenty. Romance abounds.”
– Bob Allan, Vancouver Province, September, 1980
“An intelligent, well-crafted, eminently theatrical treatment of some ideas worth dealing with… Complex and satisfying.”
– Max Wyman, CBC Radio, September, 1980
“A PLACE OF HONOUR… The play is spare and firmly aimed… beautifully observed
and consistently interesting … real and compelling… Joel and Eric have hardly been on stage for five minutes before they have excited our sympathy and concern.… Touching and disturbing.”
– Christopher Dafoe, Vancouver Sun, September, 1980
“A must-see production… Above all, you must see this play for the sheer pleasure of witnessing the finest effort to date from its author, John Lazarus… Hilarious and touching… Refreshing, vital, and frank… Open and charming… I highly recommend it to anyone who was ever an adolescent.”
– Richard Ager, Ottawa Review, February 1981.
“A strong and surprising vision of life, seen by two very different teen-age males. There is humour and tragedy and a touching, inarticulate struggle to understand the mysteries of sex and violence and the meaning of a grey existence. I like this play. Dreaming and Duelling grabs you on the immediate level of simple human drama, but behind its slangy dialogue and strange fantasy it raises many deeper questions about life.”
– Louise Bresky, CBC Radio, Calgary, January, 1983.
Production History
First produced by the New Play Centre and the Vancouver Playhouse in 1980. Numerous productions since then, including a co-production by Young People’s Theatre of Toronto and the Shaw Festival, and two productions in Tokyo, translated into Japanese by Yoshi Yoshihara.
Requirements
3 M, 2 F, multiple settings. A full-length play in two acts. Requires fencing skills on the part of the actors playing Joel and Eric.
Excerpt
JOEL has invented a fantasy character, an 18 th -century French swordsman, spy and great lover, whom he calls Valerian L’Estomber (a pun on “laisse-tomber”: valerian drops).
He has invented many stories about Valerian, but has never shared this fantasy with anyone before now. In his bedroom, he shows ERIC his secret collection of fake old documents, medals, costume jewelry, etc.
ERIC: When Valerian did his spying – he didn’t do it with anybody else?
JOEL: Nevaire.
ERIC: Wasn’t there ever one guy who was like a longtime connection? Like a sidekick?
JOEL: Ay sidekeek? Valerian does not deal wit’ ze sidekeek. ‘E works always alone.
Zere ees no one ‘e can trost.
ERIC: Not even a peasant?
JOEL: What are you getting at?
ERIC: You know, like Sancho Panza. Like Tonto. A faithful companion.
JOEL: He has a dog named Marcel.
ERIC: A guy, a guy! A guy he can trust! Why are you being so dense?
JOEL: It just isn’t his style.
ERIC: Aw, come on, Joel. What if somebody asked? To be his sidekick.
JOEL: Uh-uh.
ERIC: Some real smart peasant.
JOEL: He can fight off a hundred men singlehanded. What’s he need a sidekick for?
ERIC: Doesn’t he ever need somebody to talk to? Just to talk to? He has all these terrible secrets stuffed into his head. Doesn’t he ever get lonesome, Joel?
JOEL (beat): He would have to be a great swordsman.
ERIC: Yeah, of course.
JOEL: Don’t interrupt. Nerves of steel. Nerves of steel. And he would have to know the countryside like the back of his hand.
ERIC: He could be a, whaddaya call those guys. A highwayman! A highwayman! That’s how he meets Valerian: he robs him. They have this fantastic swordfight. And Valerian knows a fantastic swordsman when he sees one, so he hires the guy.
JOEL: Cullen, that is simplistic.
ERIC: Why? Where’s your imagination, Goldner? This is good! It’s night time on the
high road. And along comes Valerian on his horse, riding full throttle.
JOEL (pained): “Full throttle”?
ERIC: Suddenly this guy jumps down on him from a cliff and knocks him off his horse and Valerian falls on his ass.
JOEL: Hell, no! Valerian always lands on his feet! Like a cat.
ERIC: Okay, but so does the other guy.
JOEL: Well, okay, maybe.
ERIC: Yeah, so he knocks Valerian off his horse and the horse runs away.
JOEL: Ze horse of Valerian does nevaire run away!
ERIC: Okay, so the horse sticks around. But his lantern goes out (Turns off light – a
home rheostat dial. Moonlight from the window.) Valerian’s lantern goes out! It’s pitch, pitch black, they can’t see each other at all!
JOEL: Okay – so – so they stand there on the highway. So?
ERIC (slow motion mime): They draw their blades. (They do so.) They salute. (They
salute: ERIC’s direct, JOEL’s a figure-eight.)
JOEL: So how are they gonna fence each other, it’s dark.
ERIC: Uh – There! Ha! I can hear your footsteps. The highwayman lunges at the sound of the footsteps – (Does so.)
JOEL: And Valerian parries him. (Does so.) He parries him. ‘Cause he heard the guy’s blade swooshing through the air – no, wait, a blade doesn’t swoosh on a forward lunge. Shit.
ERIC: Yes it does! It does to these guys. Super sensitive hearing. Super sensitive hearing. Both of us.
(They listen.)
JOEL: I can hear your breathing.
(They listen.)
ERIC: I can hear yours.
JOEL: So they fence.
(Slow motion mimed fencing.)
And then – Valerian the Cunning – holds his breath.
ERIC: So does the other guy.
JOEL: Ah shit, Eric. If they both hold their – (Stops, listens.)
ERIC: Wha?
JOEL: Sh!
ERIC: What?
JOEL: Sh! Sh sh sh. (They listen. In awe:) I can hear your heart beat. Eric, I can hear
your goddamn heart beat. (They listen.)
ERIC: Not from there.
JOEL: Yes. Yes.
ERIC: I can’t hear my –
JOEL: Sh!
(They listen.)
ERIC: Yeahh.
JOEL: Yeah.
ERIC: And yours. I can hear yours. Jesus.
JOEL: Two hearts beating as one. God damn.
ERIC: The two greatest swordsmen who ever lived on this whole planet.
JOEL: Yeah.
ERIC: Alone together.
JOEL: Yeah.
ERIC: In the pitch black night. On a road, somewhere in France.
JOEL: Destiny.
ERIC: So what do they do?
JOEL: They fence.
(Slow motion mimed fencing.)
They fence all night long –
ERIC: Yeah.
JOEL: Not a word is spoken.
ERIC: Excellent.
JOEL: Just ze two ‘earts beating – ze ‘eavy breathing in ‘armonee – ze boots scuffling on ze ground – ze slash and slice of ze blades.
ERIC: They miss each other by inches.
JOEL: Quarter of an inches.
ERIC: Eighth of an inches.
JOEL: Fantastique! All night long, peetch black, and nobody gets ze hit!
ERIC: And zen – wait a sec – (Goes and turns up the wall light.) Zen ze sky starts to get light in ze east.
JOEL: Yes. Yes. Ze sun starts comeeng op. We begin to see each othaire. Hold it, hold it.
Perfect. Just the outlines at first.
ERIC: We slowly stop fencing.
JOEL: But of course. Because now eet ees too easee for us.
ERIC: And we get ze good look at each othaire.
JOEL: What’s the highwayman look like?
ERIC: Uh – okay – he’s wearing brown soft leather. Like, uh, like whatsit, calfskin.
JOEL: And a linen shirt? A rough old yellow shirt? With the neck open.
ERIC: Yeah, yeah. And one of those sort of Australian cowboy hats where they stick up one side and put a feather on it, you know? And a flower on his sleeve.
JOEL: He’s sort of short and wiry. In his forties.
ERIC: Yeah, yeah, right, that’s great. Also he has a grey moustache and, um, a ragged purple velvet eye patch.
JOEL: An eye patch? Uh, the guy is blind in one eye and he’s a great swordsman?
ERIC: What the hell, why not?
JOEL: Well, depth perception, you need depth perception.
ERIC: Oh. Uh. Well. Uh, why’d ya think he had to develop super sensitive hearing!
JOEL (laughs): Touché!
ERIC: Okay! What does Valerian look like?
JOEL: Very tall. Slendaire. Pale skeen, but healthy, yes? Green eyes, ze incradible green eyes. Ze long straight nose, ze black beard. All dressed een black and white, and buckles of silvaire, wit’ lace on ze shirt.
ERIC: That’s great. So we just look at each othaire for a while. And ze sun ees comeeng op. (Turns light up further.)
JOEL (bows): Zees ees indeed an honaire. I am Le Conte Valerian l’Estomber.
ERIC (bows): Compôte des Eglantiers. ‘Ighwayman for ze Ravolution.
JOEL: Who des What?
ERIC: Compôte des Eglantiers. It’s French for rose hip jam.
JOEL (beat): Okay. Compôte – eef I may address you as, uh, Compôte – I greet you as a mastaire swordsman.
ERIC: Ah. Monsieur le Conte. Eet ees good to be appreciated.
(They shake hands. Lights fade.)