Monologue

Stranger Monologue from To Damascus

From To Damascus by August Strindberg

male · anguished · 2:07 min

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Strangely enough, I should prefer to think of you like that. Impersonal, nameless--I only do know one of your names. I'd like to christen you myself--let me see, what ought you to be called? I've got it. Eve! (With a gesture towards the wings.) Trumpets! (The funeral march is heard again.) There it is again! Now I must invent your age, for I don't know how old you are. From now on you are thirty-four--so you were born in sixty-four. (Pause.) Now your character, for I don't know that either. I shall give you a good character, your voice reminds me of my mother--I mean the idea of a mother, for my mother never caressed me, though I can remember her striking me. You see, I was brought up in hate! An eye for an eye--a tooth for a tooth. You see this scar on my forehead? That comes from a blow my brother gave me with an axe, after I'd struck him with a stone. I never went to my father's funeral, because he turned me out of the house when my sister married. I was born out of wedlock, when my family were bankrupt and in mourning for an uncle who had taken his life. Now you know my family! That's the stock I come from. Once I narrowly escaped fourteen years' hard labour--so I've every reason to thank the elves, though I can't be altogether pleased with what they've done.

About this piece

The Stranger reflects on his troubled past and the impact of his family dynamics, revealing deep emotional scars and a longing for connection.

30s · sadness · family · identity · betrayal · isolation

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