THE ALLEATER
a play by Miroslav Christov
translated by Yana Punkina
The performance THE ALLEATER by Metheor premiered in November 2012, at the fridge, Sofia
director: Ani Vaseva
design and photography: Georgi Sharov
sound: DataTransporter
with Galia Kostadinova and DataTransporter
THE ALLEATER: A tooth fell from my mouth. (Pause) First, then second, third for the last week. There are one, two, three …, left for the next. (Sings) „Sharpest incisors, fastest molars, slickest wisdom teeth”… I can eat only asphalt crème soup… with a straw. Oil, petrol, gas. They effect me as caffeine and disturb my sleep. Petrol helps my digestive juices to do their job. They work at full speed. The entire organism functions at full speed. It grinds, digests and benumbs. It sends signals to every cell. All the cells open, and doves fly out of them, they fly high, high in the heights, to the ratings, the charts, the statistics, the stock markets. We’ve studied this in mechanical metaphysics class: (Talks like a teacher) “Dear students, my studious black stars, the mechanical metaphysics is the mother and the father of each of us. With it you study in order to achieve future success, or in other words, to achieve the all-devouring. Success, as you know, depends on how fast you attain the spagetization. Now open your textbooks and recall what spagetization means. Close to the centre of the horizon of events – the spherical surface that surrounds the entire mass of the black hole, the hunger of the alleater becomes big enough to tear atoms apart. When you finish your education, in your diploma will be inscribed: “Spagetization specialist”. (Pause) For that reason my dear alleaters, be good, study mechanical metaphysics, and don’t forget that your future lies on the vigour of your jaw. Chew carefully and digest your food well so that you’re always cutting edge. Ivan, spit the desk out, dear child, have you not eaten breakfast!? Didn’t they give you your favourite gravel pap this morning?”
Pause
THE ALLEATER: Are you here? (Pause) I would like to talk to you. I would like to-talk-to-you. For some time, I’ve been thinking, we need to talk about our relationship. My thoughts keep leading me towards you. They drag me… Are you here? You have grown up so much! You have grown up so much… Is this why you ignore me?
Pause
THE ALLEATER: (Talks like a pop star) I’m a star, everyone adores me and flatters me. They fondle me. They give me constellation necklaces. They give me flowers. I’m singing, my face shines. I grow bigger and bigger, bigger. I can’t. I can’t take it anymore. I will burst. I explode. I curl up like ball. Thick darkness falls. I can see only my navel string; I reach out for it… Now your star has no appetite. Will you suck the star? Will you kiss it? Will I disappear? Will you engulf me? Or… should I… like… leave?
Pause
THE ALLEATER: I wake up with colics. Holes in the stomach. Something is stuck in my throat. I am tortured by memories, thoughts, sensations. They whirl around… Where are you? You’re not here. I miss you. Sometimes I think I hear you growling. You’ve turned mean. Are you here? Hello! We need to talk. When did you become so… or have you always been like that? (Pause) We need to talk, one last time, really… Do you want me to sing something for you? Like the old times. Like only your star can sing. (Pause) (Sings) „My soul is robbed, my soul is eternally hungry”. (Talks like a pop star) Thank you. I heard this song for the first time when I ate my navel string. I lick my fingers, rub them against my lips. My tongue tingles. I hear the voice and I close my eyes. I get excited. It seems that the voice springs from the epicentre of the intimate, as if you are singing! I am dancing naked on the dance floor and around me in the thick dark matter glitters small star brocade. I feel free! There is no womb to hold me. No memories. Feeling of pure emptiness. The song ends, I open my eyes. There’s nobody here. Plates are served on the tables, full of stewed chakras, marinated in karma and servility. The silverware gleams desolately on the sides of the white plates. Nobody applauds. It is sad, in a way. Thank you. In my childhood I loved eating flowers. Oh, I adored eating flowers! When they saw that I had appetite, they brought me to the school. I am in the special class for burst superstars. The garden is ruined, swampy, full of maggots and worms, but during the breaks we play heavenly lights. The teachers call the sky „Star factory”. As long as you can control them, you can create whole new worlds. We imagine that we are creators. Mud seeps between our toes. One of our assignments is to imagine how we devour parts of the firmament, in order to enlarge the capacity of the school yard and to create new playgrounds for field games. Discipline and education are the most important things here. Requirements are very high. There is high fence, locked door which leads outside. Outside the whole world revolves around you, the teachers say, they are strict but fair. It revolves like a record, they say, but we can’t hear it. We only hear children’s songs. (Sings) „Come to me, come to me, together we will eat, come to me, come, come, come…” What else will we eat? We’ve eaten so many things. We learn to scrunch stones like crisps, to devour meteors like chocolates, to chew satellites like cotton candy, to sniff star dust for better health. They stuff us from dawn till dusk, with breaks for walks. Sometimes parents with permits come to visit my school mates. (Talks like an anxious mother) „Oh, mummy’s hungry boy! You look skinny! Do you eat all regularly? Don’t frown, mummy will buy you white doves when she gets paid, so that you can nibble in your spare time. Oh, sweetie, don’t snarl like that, it isn’t pretty!”. They look concerned, preoccupied, worried, but tears of tenderness run out of their eyes. After all, most of them pay a lot of money. There is no tuition for our class but sometimes I think that we have paid the price with our explosion. Unfortunately after the explosion you forget your life of… supernova. I don’t remember anything. Nobody visits me. My tutors say that it is good. (Talks like an excited teacher) „Well done, well done, be an example for everyone else. Be an example! Become a successful student! Successful student! Ein erfolgreicher schüler! Earn A-s in digestion!” And I earned A-s. One of my favourite subjects is history. (Talks like a teacher) „For 2000 years the education of alleaters has not changed. Gradually the process has speeded up and mechanized. Today the multinational cuisine is in trend. The physical world now offers a variety of flavour options that satisfy one’s appetite to the fullest extent. Mechanization itself has reached such high levels, due precisely to the improvement in appetite, and its ultimate idealistic form is the all-devouring. As we like to say, your good appetite and your working saliva are enough to make you true culinary specialists. During break we like to visit the fast food chains at school. (Happily) They are like small chapels in which we seek privacy, with sandwich in hand. We add nails, rubber or larvae between the buns, and chew well – it is important for di-gest-ion, and we pray to you. (Prays) „It is important that everything that falls into you is well chewed and digested, that it does not stick to the teeth, nor in the throat, nor cause indigestion”. We are always obedient, we do not slurp, we move in formation, with bright faces that radiate courage and dignity. We are dedicated to the idea. We smile. Dentists take care that our teeth are always well lubricated. We are filled with admiration before the vast possibilities of ingestion. We are the students who gratuitously pursue the Hunger, we only ejaculate when Hunger has been satisfied. We are trained by the best methods of education and we follow the instructions and recipes that we are prescribed. We are an army of brave alleaters that enters with a bang in the kitchen of life to propagate the grandest bases of mechanical metaphysics. We chew, digest, process and provide for the creation of a better eaten world.
Pause
THE ALLEATER: Yes, yes, you need. You always need – to multiply, to tickle people with your tentacles… to scatter your tempting crumbs everywhere. Pi-pi-pi… Little chick, I’m going to eat you! Thank you. Yes, it is important to become imperturbable. In the afternoon: fixtures, aluminium, marble, cobalt and nickel in the evening, and silicone dessert with bits of granite. In second grade we started with… (Excitedly) the feelings. In the morning – something lighter – vanity soup, hope a’l anglaise or watery idealism for lunch, in the evening Shakespeare’s thoughts or humanism crushed with moral values. Neoliberalism, cataclysm and onanism were offered for dessert. I stick my spoon in the astral mush; I handle the fork deftly as a fencer. I skewer everything on it. Everything fries on slow fire. A calf has dropped its eye on my rapier’s point. Veal eyes, cow’s or buffalo’s eyes. Spanish, Icelandic, Norse eyes. Japanese, Greenlandic, Czech eyes. Eye jerky. Don’t moo! Skewer on the point of my rapier! I feel like a king with my fork. My mouth is throne and my teeth are soldiers lined for combat! Often For we were served carnal pleasures for dessert. Мmm… Delicious! It is so carnal that my legs go soft, I melt and fall asleep. (Sings) „But, here, Hunger arrives, summoning His alleaters!” First he arrives on a horse, then with steam engine, wearing patent shoes. We await him enthusiastically at the station. Then he jumps with parachute. We wave a greeting. Sometimes he comes with an airplane, and sometimes he surprises us, arriving by feet. He bows. He is so polite. He teleports. He brings us presents, the teachers are in rapture. We celebrate because he is here. (Excitedly) Garlands, fireworks, parades! (Talks like a strict teacher) „In spagetization and mechanical metaphysics you’ll find progress, children. Do not be afraid, your wishes will be fulfilled. Knock with your forks and Hunger shall be given to you”. We start knocking, stamping, howling and chattering our teeth. We eat everything we find. At the end we start knocking at the door that leads outside. We knock until it breaks before our eyes. See our bellies, swollen like larvae that will sneak out of their cocoons any minute now, and will fly towards you in the open space, in order to dismember it. And then we receive. I receive you, No-thing… We go out and stride in the wide world, mouths wide open. We devour, chew, digest. We glorify Hunger. „We are hungry! We are hungry! We are hungry!” I implement all that is needed for your unending roar to be heard… Now it gets difficult to play with you. You’ve grown, you’ve become so magnificent and… sexy. And it seems that I have shrunk and I don’t excite you anymore.
Pause
THE ALLEATER: In hunger history class they never stop talking about you: (Talks as a strict teacher) „Praise the Nothing! Praise the Nothing!” They carry banners, sing songs, handout honours, medals and awards to the best ones. In logic and psychology classes – strong teeth, tough jaw and slick tongue sneak in and gut the matter. During break the megaphones advertise you. (Sounds like a TV ad) „Have you eaten your own navel string, do you shamble while walking, then it’s time to acquire a universal helper: a little black whole in your centre. Follow the game – for better metabolism! (Sings) I’m little black whole, children’s best friend. I wake up early to suck from you”.
Pause
THE ALLEATER: My teeth get sharper. They nurture me like their firstborn son. They measure the length of the throat. They say to me: „How deep this cave is”. Ha-ha… Some can’t bear the ordeals. They die of indigestion. They burst into pieces. Our mentors urge us to overcome our weaknesses. If I can’t digest a piece of steel, stuck in my throat, or a rusty nail obstructing my stomach, they don’t feed me for days and I get wild. I start shaking. I start quaking. Something in me begins to rattle… Pe-ris-tal-tic!… We hear the megaphones howling more and more – (Sounds like a siren) Hungeeeeer! Hungeeeeeer! I felt proud that I was one of the hungriest, and that my jaw was one of the strongest. The truth is that I was hungry for you! I thought I was destined to be one of your closest alleaters. A real valedictorian of the class!
Pause
THE ALLEATER: (This whole monologue sounds like an “administrative” prayer) When they set me free they tell me that from now on you will take care of me. You’ll be my mentor and guardian. Your voice will guide me. You’ll carry me in your arms through the kitchen portals, where with your floury seed you will knead from me the bread of mechanical metaphysics. Squish me, knead me, enter all my cavities, tickle my senses with your cutlery, convert me into a follower of your cult style of eating, use me to propagandize the supreme ecstasy of the all-devouring, the conversion of matter to soup, when we will merge into one. I eat your flesh and drink your blood, but I do not speak to you with my mouth full, because I am educated and I have a diploma in my pocket. Suffocate me with hugs! Speak to me, speak to me! I want to hear you, because yours is the kingdom of Hunger, and from your mouth run the slobbers that cure the defects of the matter, and attract the lowly in spirit. Don’t turn your back to me and, even if I am imperfect and my teeth ache, take me for a walk in the gardens of the world, so that we could dung the ground and discuss the business marketing strategy of harvest. Call me on the phone when I’m lonely, and extract from me what is most useful for your performance. When your potency requires skilful hand, do not hesitate to contact me to help you in the most venerated way, and on my knees I’ll prove you that your most loyal subject is not a random lickspittle, but a priceless workaholic and experienced office assistant. Only by your majesty and most magnificent marauding I succeed to be someone with a glorious destiny and to be purposeful in my acts. And while to you I’m just nobody, I ask you to be clement and merciful to me, because only with the thought of your power I manage to cause the chaos needed to fill the jars of ideology. I will fulfil all the clauses, paragraphs and subparagraphs, only do not forget to call me, to speak to me when you wish, because I’m anguishing. Please, call me at least once, do not neglect me in this low and outrageous way. You provoke me to declare hunger strike in the name of your neglect. Let your funds swell and multiply, and I, your loyal bee, be complacent and serve you even when you’re gone. Even when you’re missing… I miss you. Speak to me! Tell me that you are the comfort for us – alleaters – and show us the way to your sacred chambers, so that we are not lonely in the evenings. Tell me that one day I’ll live in you, I’ll feed from you, and I, myself, will be your food, and we will cross the threshold of universal unity. Is it soon, this moment when we’ll connect in a common mass without form or limit? In an infinite quark-gluon soup, back in the paradise of matter. Can you hear me? Can you hear, Nothing?
Pause
THE ALLEATER: You taught me to eat everything on my way. Sometimes they even threatened to sue me because I feed with people’s belongings. Мe?! Ha-ha. An alleater in court?! (Sounds like a judge) „Mr. Alleater, you are accused of having eaten the property of such and such …” I myself am court. Vessel without a bottom… See how I skewer everything on my rapier. From what is eaten they start to produce all kinds of products, even food… People feed on my excrements, on whatever I vomit. Everything goes through the conveyor. You’re the only thing left… Only you… you become bigger and bigger. Heavier. Gradually I begin to understand that I am involved in some kind of production process. You keep growing, yet the objects multiply. Thus more things to eat are accumulated. I don’t understand, are these presents for me or is it… a real circle! After each greater absorption even more mass production occurs. Marriage proposals to my stomach rain from the Most Important Persons. They write that my mechanical degradation is the sexiest, especially when my stomach is on the verge of bursting. The value of my saliva’s shares rises with every passing minute. The level of my gastric acids breaks records and hits the top of the charts. My teeth are a cult. I look to all of this as to an investment in your future, as a necessary sacrifice for the sake of my love for you and for the sake of a future paradise. Entire cities, states and civilizations start coming out of me. My belly becomes vast as a desert.
Pause
ТHE ALLEATER: Me they nurtured like their firstborn…. so that I could love you and satisfy you…Fill the jars… The conveyors…. Only-you… Only-you… Now… your star… has sung her song…. The Hungriest in the World… All is… Eaten, boned, wrenched from the womb…. Why are you furious? … Do you want my bones? … Can I resurrect in you? … Forgive me, don’t leave me… I, promise you I’ll find strength for more appetite. Tell me, will you forgive me? (Angrily) You‘re silent. Tell me, my dear, my darling, you probably do not have a form… The sun has a form, but you are not the sun. You must be the end of the sun.
Pause
ТHE ALLEATER: (Confused) Who have brought me here?… Despite the hunger… It doesn’t matter… I’ve got hangover from my satiation… There’s no way back… Back… (Pause) Ah, you turned the sirens on! Ha-ha. Aren’t you a wag? Is it my turn to leave the game? Don’t you want to play with me anymore? Have I grown old? Am I old, really? I am a superstar! (Victoriously) Ha, ha. Superstar! Little black star!
Pause
ТHE ALLEATER: Damn you! You and your wrapping goods! You never really cared for me! I was the pillar of our relationship. And now, now… Yes, this is your game, one-two-three, set the rules, sharpen the knives… hit the target with a prompt bite, take the valuables… One-two-three… Don’t be shy! Take the valuables, then swallow. Come on, play with me!… You don’t even have a voice… Only some stupid rumble, like stomach spasms… Come on, high five… Salvation from you is a reaching hand… Through your guts, I curl up like ball in your stomach, full, mischievous…Shhh!… All who fell into you deserved it, if falling was allowed in the game you didn’t break the rules… Am I in?
Pause
THE ALLEATER: Here I am – a toothless superstar… A real king! Doomed to be swallowed or saved by a heavenly miracle, a law, article, ordinance or other heavenly provision… In the last round… Who am I boxing against? Am I boxing against you?
Pause
THE ALLEATER: I’m sick of listening to your rumbling, your ruckling, your muffled voices… Eat this burden, eat this load, this hunch… It’s time for monstrous hug, isn’t it… Sleep, sleep… Be an alleater… Blinded by the darkness… I knew nothing… I knew nothing of the things they taught me… You stayed… Only you did… You’ve grown so big… Did I make you so big?
Pause
ТHE ALLEATER: Did my life pass in your mouth? Have you been feeding on me all this time? How do I taste? Did the taste of your graduate student bring you pleasure, the taste of your valedictorian? Tell me, have I helped you to do your job better? Have I helped you in the production of the new, better eaten world? Has the day of all-devouring come? Will you grace me with the paradise of the eternal satiation, of the superabundance of elementary particles, atoms and molecules, floating in an infinite, amorphous soup, dancing and disintegrating into components, matter and antimatter, colliding and mutually annihilating in a gastronomic trance? Has everything been devoured? … So now we can gaze lovingly into the infinitude and drift on the surface of the chaotic broth of minerals, plants, animals and creatures, disintegrated to their smallest parts? … To drift carefreely on the still surface of the heavenly soup with our little white boat named „Frost”, until we find our island. Our little island, built from the remains of the former world. There you and I will live in each other, in our own house with a big yard, a swimming pool and a dog house. I’ll take care of the garden and tell you about the times when all was food, and we’ll laugh like mute interlocutors, unable to distinguish each other. At night we’ll go out with the boat to fish in the endless ocean. At the end heavenly boredom will override us, and we will open small fish restaurant, and even though we’ll never have customers, since Hunger will be dead for a long time, we will write with our common hand the menu for the day, while the cosmic night licks the waves of the new world. It’s coming! The new world! It’s here!
THE END