The Eternal Curve

The Eternal Curve (or A Pound of Flesh) — the play

Characters: Lavinia Luce, Sally Simpson, Marcy Young, Betsy Treadway, Junie Nestor, and Grace Plankhurst

Act I

Announcer: (a woman, slim, chic, suave) Our scene opens in a middle-class home in a middle-class suburb of a middle-class state in the great age of the heavenly middle-classes. Six buxom middle-class, middle-aged women are holding what is obviously a meeting in a basement recreation room. Who would ever think that these six innocent women are about to change the course of history.

(Curtain opens on five housewives seated in a half-circle of chairs. A sixth chair is empty. The women are dressed in overly-tight, overly-short skirts, and their hair is combed in the upsweep fashion. The general expression on their faces is disgruntled.)

Lavinia Luce: (President) We’ll get started as soon as Grace gets here. She called to say she has a startling plan for us. Why don’t we have a carrot in the meantime. Sally, suppose you pass them around.

Sally Simpson: I can’t stand the sight of carrots. I’ve eaten so many, I’m beginning to chew like a rabbit. You pass them Marcy.

Marcy Young: Not me; I won’t even touch them. I noticed my skin seemed to be turning yellow the other day. This is the worst diet we’ve ever tried — ten carrots a day, washed down by tomato juice.

Betsy Treadway: I feel just like the Red Sea.

Lavinia: Well, you don’t all have to be so rude. It was given to me by my maid. And she lost fifteen pounds in two weeks on it. How about some tomato juice, Junie?

Junie Nestor: Heavens no. But if you have some nice gin or vodka, I’ll drink that with your tomato juice.

Lavinia: Don’t be sacrilegious. You will remember that we all had to give up on The Drinking Man’s Diet, also known as the “Airforce Diet,” with all those pilots drinking heavily and eating heartily before taking to flight. They lost weight but we didn’t and I am not sure what the diet did for their piloting skills!

Junie: At least it was fun. Don’t you think so, Betsy?

Betsy: Oh, I adored it. But with all the cocktails and steaks, I put on ten pounds.

Marcy: Well, I put on five with the carrots. Who ever heard of a skinny rabbit.

Sally: It’s just so discouraging. I think we’ve turned into epiphytes.

Lavinia: What are those?

Sally: Plants that survive on air or soul or something.

Junie: Even the Yoga exercises were fattening. All that breathing made me hungry.

Marcy: I think we are all wasting our time. Our flesh has petrified.

(Loud knocking on door and in rushes an effervescent plump woman. Everyone looks even more disgruntled at the sight of her bubbling energy.)

Grace Plankhurst: Darlings. I am so sorry to be late. I stopped off at Hilgen’s to get a good lunch so I’d have enough stamina to argue with you.

(A general found of exclamations: Hilgen’s! Lunch! Well! I must say! The nerve! etc.)

Lavinia: All right, all right. You can start fighting as soon as I open the meeting. And so it is, now, open. Betsy, will you read the minutes?

Betsy: The January 19th meeting of the Plumps Anonymous was held at the home of Sally Simpson. After the general weighing in it was found that not one member had lost one pound. In fact, according to the records, twelve extra pounds showed up in the score. The general tone of the meeting was discouragement. Our hostess served frilled carrots and gingered tomato juice. After a session of Yoga exercises conducted by Junie Nestor, a full round of complaints were voiced. Grace Plankhurst volunteered to do research and come up with a new idea. During the last half hour a form of mania overtook the group and the general membership raided Sally’s refrigerator.

(Much retrospective laughter)

Lavinia: I don’t see shy you have to write everything down, Betsy. However, let’s get on with this meeting. Shall we eliminate the treasurer’s report? You don’t mind, Sally, do you?

Sally: Of course not; it’s the same as last week: $50.00 from the proceeds of our December Diet Festival. And we haven’t spent a cent since.

Marcy: Or enjoyed ourselves.

Junie: Why don’t we have another one.

Lavinia: One was enough. Shall we hear from our research delegate next?

Grace: Oh dolls, this is so exciting. I hardly know where to begin. It all started with Einstein.

Sally: I’m not going to like it.

Junie: Are we going in for physics now?

Grace: No, nothing so drastic — just relativity.

Marcy: Oh no, I knew I should have stayed home.

Grace: If I may go on — last week it suddenly came to me — the idea that fat is just simply relative to the society, to the environment, to the time. See how elementary: We just happen to be in the wrong place in the wrong time.

Betsy: Just how do you plan to get us out, Mr. Wells. Have you a little Time Machine in that handbag of yours?

Grace: (Gazing absently at her large carry-all bag.) Keep it up and I’ll leave you with your carrots. No, no time machine. Now, look around the world.

Marcy: I’ve looked.

Lavinia: Order!

Grace: Look at the women — what do you see: in practically three-quarters of the world, the most desirable women are plump. And if I might use the word — just downright fat.

Junie: So what good does that do us?

Grace: If you’ll stop interrupting, you’ll see. Now in three-quarters of the world food is not so plentiful, so people with flesh are symbols of wealth and happiness. Why even in this country eighty years ago, we would have been competing with Lillian Russell.

Sally: In what — eating?

Marcy: What do you propose, Grace, to bring back the Great Depression?

Grace: You are all so dense. All we have to do is change public opinion and our environment.

Betsy: Oh simple — you and Lenin. However, anything would be better than a life of carrots.

Lavinia: Let her talk. Maybe she has something. Alter all, didn’t women start most of the reforms in the world ? I’d list them all for you but you know how bad I am with names.

Grace: Thank you Lavinia. Well, today will see the birth of a nation-wide organization. And you the mothers of it.

Marcy: I don’t remember having conceived this idea.

Lavinia: Shush.

June: Now that we’re new mothers, what do we do first?

Grace: First we get new members — thousands of them — from all over the country.

Sally: Oh, easy.

Grace: Of course — you yourself know that women are tired of dieting and it is in woman’s nature to be plump. We are the mothers, the comforters; we need full breasts, curves, warmth.

Marcy: Why Grace!

Sally: What eloquence!

Grace: Our husbands need wives interested in food; they need gourmets. They need something sustaining.

Marcy: Especially in winter. (Much general giggling.)

Grace: Let’s not bring sex into this. That has been the battle cry of the thin rulers for years. We are going back to the mother image.

Betsy: The men are not going to like this.

Grace: They are just yearning for curves. Why do you think they buy Playboy Magazine? It’s just they’re not used to curves with clothes on and that’s why we have to re-educate them.

March: And how, may I ask? Pose for Playboy?

Grace: Be your age. On second thought don’t. Now all we need is publicity. We need the newspapers as allies.

Betsy: So does Goldwater.

Lavinia: No politics please. Go on.

Sally: And just how are we going to convince our allies?

Grace: By getting into trouble.

Junie: What kind of trouble?

Grace: All we do is picket.

Lavinia: I don’t think I like this idea, Grace. Couldn’t we just send out nice sweet letters?

Grace: Did the suffragettes send out letters? No, they marched.

Betsy: Not with my feet.

Sally: And the parade grounds — where pray tell?

Grace: On fifth Avenue — right in front of Saks. There you have the heart of the city –tourists, natives, and plenty of police.

June: Why must there be police?

Grace: You’ll see.

Lavinia: I can’t do it. My husband’s office is right around there.

Grace: You can. We will wait until he goes out of town. Now who will design the signs? How about you, Junie?

Junie: What signs?

Betsy: Now just one second, Grace — how does Saks come into this?

Grace: Well, if we want to change the figure — we want clothes that flatter. Aren’t you sick of these miniskirt outfits on girls like pipestems? We want something Rubenesque.

Marcy: Grace, if you will recall, the women of Rubens never wore clothing.

Grace: Oh well — we want something to drape the figure — like a Sari — to fall over the curves — like a Roman toga or a Japanese kimono — to hide the bumps.

Marcy: To make a few bumps, too, with that great big sash on the kimono. Wonderful for subway crushes.

Grace: Don’t worry — the style will grow as we convince the designers and as we get new members.

Sally: Will there be dues?

Grace: From zero up — you’ll see contributions increase with the fervency of the women. As soon as our treasury grows, we advertise. Perhaps even the French women will want to be liberated.

Lavinia: I doubt it.

Grace: Then they’ll have to be left behind.

Lavinia: Why don’t we take a vote on this.

June: Why don’t we forget about this.

Lavinia: No interruptions. All in favor — wave hands; all against — sit tight.

(There is a half-hearted waving of hands by all except Junie who hugs her seat. Then the others grab her hands and raise them.)

Grace: We’ve won, we’ve won.

Sally: What?

Lavinia: A good snack. Before we go any further girls, let’s eat.

(All squeal and rush to the kitchen.)

Act II

Announcer: We are about to watch a Queen Bee spreading her honey. The next scene takes place, one year later, on a national TV station. We find Martha Cracker — what woman does not know that name — about to smile her way into homes across the nation.

(Studio — Martha Cracker is seated at a large table facing the light in front of the set. On one side of her are seated Sally and Lavinia; on the other is Grace.)

Martha: Ladies and Gentlemen, today we are most fortunate. We have with us three members of Proud Plumps, that phenomenal group of women who have, in twelve months, taken the country by storm. Already their organization has a membership of several million. Already dress lengths have fallen ten inches. Already national statistics for the average figure have gone up twelve pounds. May I introduce first, Lavinia Luce, vice-president of this crusading club. At her side is the group’s treasurer, Sally Simpson. And here to my left is Grace Plankhurst, who first conceived the idea for this fabulous revolution, and who is now campaign manager. Mrs. Luce, the entire country is astounded by the great success of your organization. What do you consider the reason for it?

Lavinia: Well, frankly, I think it was because the women of America were just hungry.

Martha: But how about the men? I understand you have several thousand male members. Why is this movement so popular with them?

Lavinia: Oh, they are mainly grateful husbands. I guess they were hungry too. Some confided to us that they were simply bored listening to their wives talk about dieting all the time.

Martha: Thank you Mrs. Luce. And you, Mrs. Simpson. What are the requirements for active membership in your association?

Sally: Very few. Just that they must eat well, convert others, and propagate.

Martha: Propagate? You mean children? Oh, no. Just ideas.

Martha: Would you tell our audience how your organization is financed?

Sally: We are supported entirely by membership donations. No amount is too small. For instance we have received ten-cent donations from small children who said they were tired of diet cakes and cookies in the refrigerator. Then of course we have members who send in substantial amounts out of sheer thankfulness.

Martha: Mrs. Simpson, one research author in a recent article claimed that in general the women of the United States seem happier since your philosophy came into vogue.

Sally: Naturally. Now they are not having to starve themselves, they’re not having to squeeze into child-like clothes, and they’re not having to compete with the minority group.

Martha: What do you mean by the minority group?

Sally: The thin ones.

Martha: Do your members object to being called fat, although you still use the word plump in your official name?

Sally: Of course not — it’s all a matter of semantics — now that we have been getting our public accustomed to the words “fashionably fat” and “fetchingly fat, the word fat is now gaining an alluring quality.

Martha: Thank you, Mrs. Simpson. And now you, Mrs. Plankhurst. I understand you are responsible for having originated this new ideal.

Grace: Oh, not really. The country was starving for it. If I hadn’t thought of it, someone else would have. However, I will accept credit, along with my colleagues, for pushing it.

Martha: I understand you had a difficult time at first.

Grace: Oh yes, but we expected that. However, you have to have the strength of a Ghandi to feel calm in jail.

Martha: How long were you kept there?

Grace: Oh, only over night. To tell you the truth, we could have been bailed out right away, but we were too frightened to call our husbands.

Martha: How did you manage to bring your husbands around to your way of thinking?

Grace: We didn’t do it. The public did. Papers throughout the nation printed the story and the public took us into their hearts.

Martha: I thought you were permitted to picket if you did it in a quiet fashion.

Grace: Oh, you are, but Lavinia accidentally dropped her sign on a policeman’s head when he asked us to move on after a crowd gathered. We were sorry about that incident because the police were heavenly to us. You see, actually they are in favor of the idea. It’s a theory of theirs that plumper people commit fewer crimes. Just a theory.

Martha: Surely you don’t believe that; there have been some heavy gangland figures.

Grace: Of course, but in general, one is more content to sit and be quiet when one is well-fed.

Martha: You may have something there. But how about the health angle? After all, doesn’t the medical profession favor slenderness for health?

Grace: We have gone to a higher source than the medical profession. We have gone back to Mother Nature herself. Flesh is simply a reserve for times of stress and illness. Take the African bushman, for instance, who, in times of plenty stores the fat on his rump that sustains him in the season of starvation. We are not advocating fatness that descends into obesity. That’s why we like the name “Proud Plumps.”

Martha: Thank you, Mrs. Plankhurst. Mrs Luce, may I bother you again to tell us how your movement spread so fast.

Lavinia: Through women’s clubs, publicity, nation-wide marches and picketing; by a united effort in threatening to boycott magazines, department stores, motion pictures, etc., unless the female image changed.

Martha: Well, you certainly succeeded. Of course you know I am a member of your organization. And what a joy it is to eat Lobster Newberg again! And, as long as my cholesterol is fine, I can do so with impunity. Tell me about these dresses you are wearing. Are they of your own design?

Lavinia: We put our heads together and came up with these. Part Grecian and part Indian.

Sally: (interrupting) We hope to make this the country’s national dress. We’ve never had one, you know.

Grace: You see, the drape at the same time covers yet yet subtly enhances the curve. Girdles are entirely unnecessary. The skin can breathe.

Martha: I wonder if I could have one made.

Sally: Of course. Mollie Garnish has agreed to put it on the market. It will be in all the department stores in a few months.

Martha: This has been a fascinating interview. It is too bad that our time is up. I wonder if you will all come back another day.

Lavinia: We’d love to.

Martha: Now we will have a lovely little message from our sponsor, Hosties Desserts, who were kind enough to let us hold our interview today without interruption, in recognition of our guests.

Act III

(Same recreation room as in Act I. However, there are stacks and stacks of envelopes, file cabinets, desks covered with papers. The original members are on stage.)

Lavinia: To think this is the fifth anniversary of our club.

Marcy: It seems like the fiftieth to me, I exhausted. Besides I’ve lost ten pounds.

Sally: You too — I’ve lost twelve.

Betsy: I think I have lost my mind — if I have to eat another dinner in our honor, I am going to go on a diet.

Junie: All I do is answer the telephone and direct that secretarial staff stuck in my cellar. Frankly, I am sick of women.

Grace: You traitors. How can you talk like this. You are just going through the success doldrums. You’ll soon perk up when you hear my news.

Betsy: Oh no, don’t tell me we’re opening a Russian branch.

Grace: Don’t be silly — they are already claiming that the idea began in Moscow. No, hold onto your saris — it finally came, our crowning success. Here it is (waves a letter around): we have all been invited to be the judges in the 1971 Miss America Contest.

(Chorus of no’sand squeals of delight.)

Junie: Let me see.

Lavinia: Wonderful.

Marcy: This is it — now we can retire. Our work is finished.

Chorus of all: Finished.

Announcer: And so we have seen how in the course of human events discontent can topple empires and almost come full circle.

Peggy Stebbins Nelson

Circa 1964