first year - Feb. 13, 2014 - Feb. 12, 2015 second year - Feb. 13, 2015 - Feb. 12, 2016 third year - Feb. 13, 2016 - today!
I've continued with a monologue a day until the spirit moves me to stop - if you have any ideas for a monologue you want me to write, please let me know at tigerteam1@gmail.com.
I've continued with a monologue a day until the spirit moves me to stop - if you have any ideas for a monologue you want me to write, please let me know at tigerteam1@gmail.com.
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues- for a list of the titles and blurbs from each day, click here There are now over 1130!
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Monologue Mania Day #1137 Grave Site by Janet S. Tiger (c) Mar. 25, 2017
Grave Sight
(from the one-man show BEN)
A monologue by Janet S. Tiger © all rights reserved 2014
tigerteam1@gmail.com
(Benjamin Franklin comes onstage. He is not happy, holding his hand in a handkerchief, he picks up his finger, looks at it, wraps it again in the handkerchief and shakes his head.)
A paper cut....some things never change!
(He holds the finger up)
And in a few days, this will be healed, as if the cut never happened. This never ceases to amaze me!
(He looks at the audience)
Most people have no idea how their body works. Even today, in your time, do you know?
(He looks into the audience, points at a person)
Are you a doctor? If you are, then maybe you know why the blood pours out of one place, but drips from another.
Why one person gets sick, and then heals, where another gets the same illness, and dies.
(The lights change, and it is dark and damp looking)
Where are we now? In the home of a dear friend in London. Not in the pleasant section, with the wide windows for the odd ray of sunshine, or the beautiful brocade couches and paintings from France......
No we are below. Three stories to be exact. There is the main floor, then underneath is the kitchen, where the servants prepare the food, below that is the storage level......and then, where we are now. The basement.
(He walks around touching the 'walls' and pulling a hand back - it's slimy here.)
The basement in these old buildings is not a place to be sick......but it is the only place deep enough, and far away from prying eyes......and, most important......cold enough where one can be sure the smell of the dead bodies we have stolen from the grave can be hidden until we dissect and examine and learn all that can be learned before .......returning the remains to the earth. Sometimes, we do not have the chance to take the bodies up, so they remain here, for you to discover them in a few hundred years. And wonder what happened in this place.
Not many of you know that I was involved in these experiments. Some of you will still villify those of us who did these things.
But....I have been punished enough........the death of a friend is never easy, but when you fear that it was your own involvement which created the situation leading to that death, the guilt that engulfs your brain, your heart, this guilt is not easily calmed let alone extinguished.
In your day, a cut like he had would probably not have killed him, but in our time, the sight of the swelling, the dark lines on the skin, the......I won't go into the final stages of blood poisoning, but suffice it to say, it is not pleasant to endure, nor to watch.
The helplessness is the worst.....to watch a young man, a brilliant young man, married to a young woman who you love like a daughter,.....to watch this, is like going through a hell that Dante could not envision.
William Hewson, Bill to his friends, was very much the man who wanted to learn, despite the societal restrictions of our time. His mistake was a scalpel too sharp, or perhaps he was tired, or the lamp not bright enough......who knows why the blade cut him, and the putrid decaying flesh spread into his healthy body, killing him in just weeks.
I had warned him, we had all warned him, of the dangers. Being caught robbing a grave, or doing these experiments, could result in serious consequence - ostracization of polite society being the least problematical.
(Franklin shakes his head, he is truly affected)
There are those among you today doing the same - hiding in laboratories, disguising their results and concepts until such time as they are more acceptable to the public.
But they all share a common problem - what to do when what you do catches up with you. And hurts you - how do you tell? Who do you tell?
I never liked when he did the cuts on young ones, even though the expression 'dead is dead' does come to mind. There is something extraordinarily sad about a young person who has died - the promise never coming to fruition.......
(He stares off)
Like my son. I chose that he not be innoculated against the smallpox. I felt he was too young. Unfortunately, he was not too young to die. He was four years old. I did not want to take the chance and have the thread with the smallpox……(hard for him to say)……go into him. Perhaps if I had thought it out with more logic, perhaps if I had heeded what some said to do…..perhaps…he would have lived. There was no guarantee……life rarely has. And my choice has haunted me all the days of my life, and affected my every decision.
(He takes the handkerchief off his hand, looks at the wound.)
I told William that it was dangerous to do what he did – but for the sake of all humanity, he should continue if he felt it best.
And so he did, and his discoveries, even though he died young, helped others live.
Did my son’s death help me make decisions in a better way? To choose life, to take a chance to save lives, to save a country that was just young and needed to live past four years…….I would like to think so.
(He puts the handkerchief into his pocket)
I doubt I will remember to wash this handkerchief properly, it is here for memory sake. In this time, you have many ways of removing stains….perhaps one day, you will find a way of washing away the pain of ……mistakes……
(He exits. End of scene)
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This monologue is based on some facts from Franklin's life - http://mentalfloss.com/article/30448/time-they-found-those-bodies-ben-franklins-basement
and http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2653186/
Originally posted Day # 153 July 14, 2014--------------------------------------------------
* Note: A few words about 'free' - all these monologues are protected under copyright law and are free to read, free to perform and video as long as no money is charged. Once you charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me for royalty
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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
2016-17 San Diego Foundation Creative Catalyst Fellowship Grant
2016-17 San Diego Foundation Creative Catalyst Fellowship Grant
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
