Part 85: Elizabeth

While a naive reading of MeghanRose’s The Problems With Our Mothers might lead one to assume that the piece is an exploration of that oft-neglected and richest relationship within the traditional nuclear family structure, the mother-daughter, deeper engagement with the text reveals that its subject is, indeed, drama itself. The play is ingeniously constructed around the conceit of a “group therapy” session, in which each performer takes her (the cast is all female) “turn” to expound upon one particular “problem” she has identified with her mother. The other cast members, in turn, play the role of the “audience,” and their behavior is allegory for the behavior of all audiences, prompting the individual watching the performance to turn his or her (the audience is diverse) attention inward. Indeed, "audience," one is reminded, is a social construct, and "audience member" but a single role one can play, just as are the roles assumed by the performers, just as are "mother" and "daughter."

Indeed, the foremost question that runs through one’s mind while participating in (not watching - it is not a passive experience, but active co-construction of meaning) a performance of The Problems With Our Mothers is a simple one: “Is this part of it?” MeghanRose titillatingly refuses to answer our question definitively. Everything is at once “part of it” and “not part of it.” Indeed, the very act of questioning whether something is “part of it” is itself part of it. It is part of one’s experience of the play, and therefore, since there is nothing outside of experience, it is part of the play.

Yet, at the same time, it is not part of the play, for “the play” is merely a gestalt imposed by the audience upon a holistic experience (which cannot be defined, for to define is to limit. Indeed, even to call an experience "an experience" is to limit in, in a sense.) The play itself reminds us of this fact by highlighting the artificial nature of the “group therapy” session, which is framed as an “open and honest space” in which one can “speak freely.” This is, however, soon revealed to be a fiction, as there are, as there always are in any socially-constructed situation, unspoken “rules” that must be followed. At one moment, one performer violates the unwritten contract by identifying the “problem with her mother” as “brain cancer,” and the group reacts violently, casting her out, shunning.

A less sophisticated playwright would have stopped there. But MeghanRose takes the concept further, expelling not only the “speaker” from the “group,” but also the “performer” from the “cast.” She effects a transformation from her role as ersatz-leader of the (officially leaderless) therapy group to that of "director of the play," and tells the actress that she is “no longer part of the cast.” Indeed, we even watch this performer leave the stage and join the audience, a reminder of how fragile all our socially-constructed roles are; one even wonders whether one oneself might be equally expelled from the audience (or whether, in thinking along these lines, one has already forsaken one’s role as “audience member” . . .

“Alright, I feel as though I have read enough,” Elizabeth said to her partner. They had been encouraged to read only as much as was necessary to reach an understanding of the essence of the piece (and admonished against feeling that they must begin at the beginning, but Elizabeth had done that anyway.)

“I invite you to share your thoughts with me,” her partner, the writer of the paper, said in response.

They were in their Sociology of Situations class, participating in a peer-review session of papers they had written for other classes, with the Objective of analyzing how the Situation of Writing a Paper for Class was different from and similar to other Situations they had explored. This, however, was only a pretext. After they had fully explored their respective Situations (or hit the fifteen-minute mark, whichever came first), the professor would spring today’s real Objective on them: to analyze the Situation of the Peer-Review Session. What rules, what guidelines, what norms must one follow to participate? Then, if there was time, the Professor would invite them to go deeper, and explore the Situation of the classroom discussion (using their discussion of peer-review sessions as a model.) Again: what rules, what norms, etc. You never had to worry about running out of content when you taught Sociology of Situations.

“So I feel that I have grasped your central thesis,” Elizabeth began. “But I also feel as though I am in a privileged position to comment on the subject.”

“Oh, yeah?” the writer said.

“Yeah. You see, I was that performer who was cast out in the middle of the performance.”

“Yes. We all were.”

“No, I mean I literally, actually was her.”

The writer nodded, considering this. All around them, similar thoughtful nods were taking place.

Elizabeth felt unheard, but plowed on anyway: “And you’ve mischaracterized the experience, I feel. It wasn’t a reminder about the fragility of our roles; it was personal.”

“All experience is personal,” the writer said.

“Of course. But this one was particularly personal.”

“And why do you think you feel that way?”

“Well. Because I was there. I experienced it directly. Meghan Rose disliked me, for some reason, on a personal level, so she used her power to kick me out of the cast. It didn’t have anything to do with what I said.”

“Hmm. That is an interesting interpretation.”

“It’s not an interpretation,” Elizabeth snapped.

“Everything is interpretation.”

“Sure, yeah, of course. But some things are more interpretation than others.”

The writer made a note. The paper was placed between them to encourage looking-together, but the writer had brought two copies just in case they were expected to Read Separately and join together to Discuss. The second copy was sitting on top of a small pile of books, on her lap. The upshot was that Elizabeth couldn’t see what she wrote and felt intensely curious.

“My partner made a judgment that I overuse the word indeed,” the writer said. “Do you agree with his assessment?”

“I do,” Elizabeth said. “But I also feel that that is a rather superficial defect, and there are deeper discussions to be had concerning the paper's content.”

“Is that relevant to the Situation of Writing a Paper?” the writer asked, looking puzzled.

“Everything is relevant to everything,” Elizabeth responded, shutting her down. “But, for instance, I feel that this paper manifests an over-reliance on auteur theory, even while it purports to deconstruct the roles of the theatre.”

“Huh?”

“You make it sound like MeghanRose did all of this--” she gestured at the paper -- “intentionally. She’s just some girl, though.”

“Aren’t we all just some girls?” the writer said, looking rattled. She was glancing down at her own copy of the paper more and more often as the Situation went on. “I’m starting to feel as though you’re giving my paper an unfair reading and allowing your personal biases against MeghanRose to color your interpretation, and while of course it is impossible to fully extricate oneself from one’s own conceptual schema, I still feel like . . .”

“This interruption is merely to inform you,” the professor’s voice cut through, “that, as we have now passed the halfway point of our peer-review session, it would be in the interest of equitability to turn your attention to the second partner’s paper. However, if you feel that you would prefer to allow your discussions to unfold organically, that is an equally valid option.”

“Equal,” Elizabeth muttered. “He means equal, not equitable.”

“What’s the difference?” her partner asked.

“Well, equal means everyone get the same thing, whereas equitable . . .”