Full-length play

The (Abridged) Bronxville Trilogy,

or Marriages of Inconvenience

A Play by William Ivor Fowkes

Three married men pay the price for leading double lives in a time of social change.

This play condenses all 3 plays that form THE BRONXVILLE TRILOGY into one full-length play and presents the stories of three married couples in Bronxville, an affluent suburb of New York City. All three husbands are closeted gay men whose wives don't know the truth of their situation. THE (Abridged) BRONXVILLE TRILOGY spans 30 years of sweeping social changes for gay people.

Graham Walker and Dan Carlsen, two best friends and lovers since college, struggle with their desire to be together in a world where marriage to women is the unquestioned norm, and the AIDS epidemic makes living out of the closet a frightening option. Their solution is to marry women, start families, and live as next-door neighbors while continuing their relationship in private. This strategy works surprisingly well--until Dan dies in a plane crash. Meanwhile, neighbor Chip Miller secretly acts out in increasingly dangerous ways, ultimately almost dying after being attacked at a gay sex club. In the aftermath of their divorces, newly-out Graham and Chip embark on a relationship made all the more challenging by their very different histories and conflicting approaches to navigating their new gay lives.

Vignettes scattered throughout the play depict other couples in similar circumstances but different times.

Full script available at the National New Play Network's New Play Exchange (NPX). Click here.

Or see EXCERPT below.

LENGTH: 2 hours 50 minutes

CAST: 7 actors (4M, 3F) playing 21 roles.

SETTING

Sissinghurst Castle, England; New Haven, CT; Boothbay Harbor, ME; Manhattan; Bronxville, NY; The White House; Provincetown, MA.

TIME

1862-2000 and beyond

MAIN CHARACTERS

Graham Walker. Investment banker from Westport, CT. Articulate and intense. 19-48

Chip Miller. Senior executive at a packaged goods company. Ages from 28 to 42.

Dan Carlsen. Lawyer from Fargo, ND. Athletic and boyish. 19 to 44.

Kitty Walker. Book editor, then stay-at-home mom. Attractive and shy. 28 to 44.

Debbie Carlsen. Advertising account exec, then stay-at-home mom. 28 to 44.

Sally Miller. Chip's wife. Good at taking charge of things. 28 to 39.

+ 15 additional characters

EXCERPT:

PROLOGUE

The stage is bare except for a row of seven chairs forming a wide semicircle upstage. Throughout the play, all actors are on stage—either acting downstage or sitting in the semicircle upstage. Furniture and props are added or removed as indicated. Whenever possible, the actors function as stagehands. Actors making announcements may either stand or remain seated, at the director’s discretion.

The cast enters and takes its seats—except for ACTOR #4 and ACTOR #7, who step forward and sit in armchairs.

SET: Two armchairs.

Scene: VITA SACKVILLE-WEST (ACTOR#4), age 45, and HAROLD NICOLSON (ACTOR #7), age 51, sit in armchairs having afternoon tea. (English accents)

ACTOR #5

Sissinghurst Castle, England. Writer Vita Sackville-West and diplomat Harold Nicolson enjoy a spot of tea.

HAROLD NICOLSON (ACTOR #7)

I don’t understand why we’re here.

VITA SACKVILLE-WEST (ACTOR #4)

It’s because of that book Nigel wrote.

HAROLD

Our little Nigel wrote a book?

VITA

Well, not when he was little. Not until after we both died. It was a book about our marriage.

HAROLD

I’m glad I didn’t live long enough to see that! Imagine all our friends—not to mention the rabble—poring over all the intimate details of our lives. Imagine my own son publishing such a thing! It’s unseemly, if you ask me.

VITA

Well, it gets worse. Apparently, the BBC and PBS made a mini-series of Portrait of a Marriage some years later.

HAROLD

What’s a mini-series?

VITA

And apparently the book made enough of an impression on a certain playwright that he chose to give us these cameo roles in this play.

HAROLD

This play? How can we be in this play?

VITA

We’re not actually in it. We’re just commenting on it. Or introducing it. Or something.

HAROLD

But we don’t belong here at all—whether as commentators or characters or what have you! This is a play about “marriages of inconvenience.” Ours was not a “marriage of inconvenience.” I, for one, found it quite convenient. Quite jolly, really. It was . . . it was . . . well, the most important thing in my life! The very heart and soul of my being! And we went into it with our eyes wide open.

VITA

Well, not at first, perhaps. But, yes, our eyes were certainly opened all the way in good time.

HAROLD

You never questioned my love, did you?

VITA

Of course not! Our love was unalterable. You were my harbor. My best playmate. Nigel made it very clear that our love deepened with every passing year. Let me read you what he wrote.

VITA reads from a book.

VITA (CONT’D)

He said we had—quote—the strangest and most successful union that two gifted people have ever enjoyed—end quote.

HAROLD

“Gifted.” I like that. I was never sure what Nigel really thought of our work. Or what the rest of the world thought, for that matter.

VITA

Don’t be modest. The many books we gave the world are proof enough of all that.

HAROLD

But “strangest”? That’s going a bit far, don’t you think?

VITA

My dear, this may come as a surprise, but most couples do not give each other the freedom to be unfaithful—especially not with people of their own sex.

HAROLD

It wasn’t always people of our own sex! What about your affair with Geoffrey Scott?

VITA

An experiment, nothing more. And one that failed. You certainly never went off with other women during all our years together—so far as I know.

HAROLD

You know everything about me, dear! I would have considered that an act of treason.

VITA

But sleeping with men was not treasonous?

HAROLD

We were both drawn to our own sex. It’s just who we were. But my affairs meant little to me. To be honest, they were mostly just a way to keep myself occupied while you were off falling in love with your women friends.

VITA

You were away from home far more than I ever was!

HAROLD

That was the Foreign Office’s doing, not mine. My point is that I had to do something to fill the time. That’s all my little adventures ever were.

VITA

Then perhaps you should have spent your time doing something more edifying, like—I don’t know—visiting art galleries!

HAROLD

That’s precisely where some of my little adventures began! And that’s all they ever were. Fleeting incidents of no consequence with young men. You see, I was never physical with

the men I truly loved and admired. I was never a passionate lover.

VITA

Ah, that’s where we differed, then. All my affairs were passionate—and long-lasting. (remembering fondly)

Oh, Violet! The delight and pain we caused each other! The drama—and excitement! (remembering wistfully)

Ah, Rosamunde! You opened me like a flower and introduced me to a world I’d never even suspected

(amused)

Even Mary! What grief we caused your husband, poor thing.

HAROLD

And don’t forget to mention Virginia Woolf!

VITA

Name dropper! But she was different from all the others. Most people think she was the great love of my life. And maybe she was. But our relationship wasn’t physical. Well, barely. Only twice, at any rate. And she was something of a cold fish, truth be told. But I didn’t mind. I loved her deeply. And she returned the favor. What she and I shared was something more intellectual. Or spiritual, if you like. I make no apologies for any of that.

HAROLD

I must confess I never felt threatened by your affair with Virginia.

VITA

You never felt threatened by any of my affairs.

HAROLD

True, but I felt the Woolfs had a marriage that mirrored our own, so there was safety in that. Perhaps Leonard and I should have fallen in love, too. That would have provided more symmetry, don’t you think?

VITA

But he wasn’t homosexual.

HAROLD

Ah, quite true.

(beat)

Poor man.

(beat)

Well, let’s see how inconvenient things were for these people.

END OF PROLOGUE

ACT ONE: SCENE 1

ACTOR #6

1971, A faculty suite at Yale College.

Scene: GRAHAM WALKER (ACTOR #1), age 19, and RICHARD HAMLIN (ACTOR #2), age 30, enter passing a joint back and forth.

RICHARD HAMLIN (ACTOR #2)

How do you like it?

GRAHAM WALKER (ACTOR #1)

Mmm . . . Good . . . I’d say, “Groovy,” but I’m too stoned.

(looking around)

Hey, where’d everyone go?

RICHARD

The party’s over.

GRAHAM

Oh . . . All right, I’ll leave.

GRAHAM starts to exit. RICHARD pulls him back.

RICHARD

Not you, Graham. You can stay, can’t you?

GRAHAM

Uh . . . sure, Professor Hamlin.

RICHARD

And please call me Richard.

GRAHAM

Okay . . . “Richard.”

RICHARD

Hey, wait here a second!

RICHARD exits. GRAHAM looks around, blissfully stoned. RICHARD re-enters with a jar of blue paint and a towel.

RICHARD (CONT’D)

Sit down. We’re going to paint each other’s face.

RICHARD sits on the floor.

GRAHAM

I don’t get it.

RICHARD

C’mon—sit down! You’ll like it.

GRAHAM sits on the floor facing RICHARD. RICHARD puts the jar down. Does NOT put his fingers in the jar. Instead, starts touching GRAHAM’s face, pretending to paint it. Makes gentle circles with his fingers all around GRAHAM’s face.

GRAHAM

Ahh . . . That feels . . . so . . . good . . .

GRAHAM is transported and confused by what’s happening. RICHARD stops suddenly.

RICHARD

Okay, your turn.

GRAHAM

(snapping out of it)

What?

RICHARD

Paint my face.

GRAHAM

Huh?

RICHARD

Like I was just doing to you.

GRAHAM hesitates. Finally does as instructed. (Unlike RICHARD, he does use the paint.) Draws a ring around RICHARD’s face. Pauses. Evaluates. Starts a second circle. Lingers over his work, caressing RICHARD’s face with his fingers. Suddenly lunges at him. Kisses him on the mouth. Hugs him. RICHARD reciprocates, then breaks it off and stands up. He uses the towel to wipe the paint off his face.

RICHARD (CONT’D)

Hey, stand up.

RICHARD helps GRAHAM up.

RICHARD (CONT’D)

Come with me.

RICHARD takes GRAHAM by the hand and leads him out.

END OF SCENE

SCENE 2

SET: a kitchen table and two chairs.

ACTOR #2

25 years later—1996. A kitchen in Bronxville, New York, an affluent suburb in Westchester County.

Scene: GRAHAM, age 44, sits at the table. Settles in to read the New York Times. KITTY WALKER (ACTOR #4), age 41, sneaks up behind him. Starts to massage his shoulders.

GRAHAM

Mm, that’s nice!

GRAHAM enjoys the massage for a moment, then finally turns and looks up.

GRAHAM (CONT’D)

(surprised)

Oh! Hi, Kitty!

KITTY WALKER (ACTOR #4)

Sorry to disappoint you—it’s just your wife. Were you hoping for Madonna?

GRAHAM

Madonna? No way! I much prefer my wife.

KITTY bends down for a quick kiss.

KITTY

Right answer, darling!

GRAHAM

Especially after that great birthday party last night! You’re too good to me.

KITTY

I know.

GRAHAM

(indicating the newspaper)

Hey, did you read what Dan Quayle said yesterday? Almost makes me ashamed to be a Republican.

KITTY.

Oh, that reminds me—don’t forget about brunch with Dan.

GRAHAM

(joking)

I don’t remember inviting the Vice President!

KITTY

Not that Dan. Dan Carlsen. Your best friend. Debbie’s husband. They’re both on their way over. You might want to go clean up—well, too late now!

DAN CARLSEN (ACTOR #3), age 44, and DEBBIE CARLSEN (ACTOR #5), age 41, enter.

DEBBIE CARLSEN (ACTOR #5)

So, how’s the birthday boy?

GRAHAM

Still recovering from last night.

DEBBIE

Well, happy birthday, birthday boy!

GRAHAM

My birthday’s over!

(to Dan)

Dan, please ask your wife to stop reminding me that I’m aging.

DEBBIE

You’re not aging! You’re maturing—like a fine wine or cheese.

GRAHAM

I keep forgetting you used to work in advertising.

DAN CARLSEN

What’s with that new car in your driveway, Graham?

KITTY

Dan, don’t!

GRAHAM

It’s here? Don’t worry, Dan—I knew all about this.

DEBBIE

What’s going on?

KITTY

Just a little birthday present one day late.

DAN

Little? It’s a Mercedes convertible, man! That’s always been your fantasy!

KITTY

And it’s my job to fulfill all his fantasies—well, some at least.

DEBBIE

So, our little college radical has finally sold out.

(singing)

Oh, Lord won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz!

GRAHAM

I was never a radical, Debbie!

DEBBIE

That’s not what Dan says.

GRAHAM

Dan was a jock. He thought anyone who asked for seconds at dinner was a radical.

DEBBIE

How can you afford to buy him a Mercedes? You don’t have that kind of money.

KITTY

He paid for it!

DEBBIE

You paid for your own birthday present?

GRAHAM

Kitty doesn’t have that kind of money. You want a ride?

DAN

Absolutely!

DEBBIE

I’ll come, too!

KITTY

OK, fine—the Eggs Benedict can wait. Can I drop Bobby off with your sitter?

DEBBIE

Sure.

DEBBIE and KITTY exit. DAN makes sure they’re gone before speaking.

DAN

That was some party last night, Graham! Do you realize that makes twenty-five birthdays in a row we’ve celebrated together?

GRAHAM

I think we missed a couple during grad school.

DAN

That’s still a lot of birthdays. And to think—none of this ever would have happened if it hadn’t been for Richard Hamlin.

GRAHAM

What are you talking about? We met freshman year! Prof. Hamlin didn’t come along until sophomore year.

DAN

You know what I mean.

GRAHAM

(contemplating)

Oh. I guess you’re right.

GRAHAM goes back to reading the paper.

END OF SCENE

SCENE 3

SET: two armchairs.

ACTOR #7

Flashback to 1971.

ACTOR #6

In June, protest marchers in New York and Los Angeles commemorate the second anniversary of the Stonewall Riots.

ACTOR #7

A college dorm suite at Yale.

Scene: DAN, age 19, takes his place in one of the armchairs. Hung over, he tries to read the Sunday New York Times. GRAHAM, age 19, enters sheepishly.

DAN

Whoa—someone’s been out all night! Who was she?

GRAHAM

(like a deer caught in a headlight)

Oh, hey, Dan! No—I, uh . . . I was at Richard Hamlin’s.

(a little forced)

After you all left, we got stoned some more. I felt so honored to be singled out. I kept thinking—wow, I’m actually smoking dope with a professor!

DAN

He’s no big deal.

GRAHAM

Are you kidding? Only the best professors get to be resident faculty fellows. He’s very impressive! And very generous—he keeps inviting us to those parties. I’ve learned a lot there—about the arts and other things.

DAN

“Other things.” I bet! He’s trying to indoctrinate all you guys—mold you into pretentious aesthetes just like him. Sorry—it’s not my scene, man.

GRAHAM

Yet you willingly go to his parties, too.

DAN

Just as an observer.

GRAHAM

Well, anyway, I woke up on the floor this morning.

DAN

(not quite believing)

Really?

GRAHAM sits.

GRAHAM

Yeah—really. I’ll probably have a sore back all day.

DAN

(noticing)

Speaking of the devil—

RICHARD HAMLIN (30) enters dramatically.

RICHARD

Good morning, gentlemen! I’m so relieved to see you alive and kicking this beautiful Sunday morning. I’d never forgive myself if I thought my little soirees prevented you from fulfilling your academic obligations.

DAN

Last night’s little soiree left me with a pounding headache, Richard! I may have to report you to Dean Porter for corrupting a student.

RICHARD

(joking)

If that’s the thanks I get for throwing a marvelous party, go have a little talk with the Dean. But then I might have to identify the mastermind behind the whoopee cushion incident at last week’s faculty dinner.

DAN

On second thought—

DAN gets up.

DAN (CONT’D)

I’d love to stay and hold a consciousness-raising session with you guys, but I better get my things and head out to the library.

(conspiratorially)

And between you and me, I love your little soirees. Peace!

DAN exits to the bedroom.

RICHARD

I guess I’ll take my leave, too. I just wanted to make sure you got home safe and sound, Graham.

GRAHAM picks up the paper.

RICHARD (CONT’D)

Graham? Look, I know you probably feel awkward this morning.

GRAHAM

(without looking up)

I don’t feel awkward.

RICHARD

Oh . . . good! In that case, would you like to get together again tonight?

GRAHAM

(quietly—looking up at Richard)

Maybe.

RICHARD

No pressure. Okay, maybe I’ll see you later.

RICHARD exits. DAN returns with books.

DAN

Take my advice, Graham—stay away from that guy.

GRAHAM

Boy, you’ve really got it in for him, don’t you!

DAN puts down the books. Picks up a football.

DAN

So, tell me what happened after I left?

GRAHAM

I told you. We smoked some more grass, and I crashed on his floor.

DAN

But you’re not the druggie type.

DAN tosses the football to GRAHAM, who catches it clumsily and walks it back over to DAN.

GRAHAM

It just seemed like . . . I don’t know . . . The thing to do.

DAN

Back up! You can do better than that.

DAN motions to throw the ball again. GRAHAM takes the ball away from him and puts it down.

GRAHAM

You know I don’t like football.

DAN

You’re such a fairy!

GRAHAM

Dan, you’re not in North Dakota anymore. We don’t use words like that at Yale.

DAN

Yeah, yeah! Just tell me—did Richard do anything to you after you got stoned? He’s not who you think he is. You ever notice he hardly ever invites the women to his parties?

GRAHAM

No, man. Nothing about you could possibly disgust me.

(after a reflective pause)

Look, I lied. I didn’t leave either. I spent the night with him, too.

GRAHAM

Well, well, well . . . wow!

DAN

And I slept with him two more times after that.

GRAHAM

So, does that mean you’re a “faggot”?

DAN

What about you?

GRAHAM

I’d never done that before.

DAN

I sleep with women, too. You know that.

GRAHAM

I’ve never slept with a woman.

DAN

We’ve double dated!

GRAHAM

Trust me—nothing’s ever happened.

(a quick laugh—just realizing)

Wow—did Richard Hamlin just rob me of my virginity?

DAN

Depends on what you did.

GRAHAM

Did you like it?

DAN

Yeah, I did. You?

GRAHAM

I’m afraid I did. I didn’t know what to expect, but it felt so natural—so good! And he’s asked me to come back tonight.

DAN

(disappointed)

Oh . . . Are you going to?

GRAHAM

I think I might.

DAN

Do you like him?

GRAHAM

Well, I said he’s impressive, but I guess I admire him more than like him. He’s actually an asshole.

DAN

Exactly! So, here’s what I think—we like each other, right?

GRAHAM

Sure! I love you—I mean . . . You know what I mean.

DAN

And now we’ve both been with Richard Hamlin, right?

(pausing for dramatic effect)

So, why don’t we just eliminate the middleman?

DAN approaches GRAHAM. Touches him gingerly. GRAHAM touches him back. They stare at each other and then kiss. After a while, DAN breaks it off briefly.

DAN (CONT’D)

But no one can know about this, right?

GRAHAM

I don’t know. I guess not.

DAN

Think about it! What kind of life could we have at Yale if people knew? Or outside Yale, too? You know what they do to gay people in some places? You ever hear about the shock therapy they use in California? And forget about getting a good job!

GRAHAM

I don’t know anything about all that. This is all so new. So sudden. Are you sure we should do this, then?

DAN

Absolutely! I’m not trying to freak you out. I’m just saying we’re gonna have to be very discreet. Will you promise me you’ll keep this a secret?

GRAHAM

If that’s what you want—sure.

DAN grabs GRAHAM. They resume their kissing until DAN once again breaks it off briefly.

DAN

But we’ll still date women, right?

GRAHAM

Why?

DAN

We still have to live in the world—be part of everything. Be successful!

GRAHAM

disappointed)

Do we really have to?

DAN

Hey, don’t worry about all that right now.

DAN grabs GRAHAM again. They kiss more intensely.

END OF SCENE

SCENE 4

SET: bare stage.

ACTOR #5

1939. Boothbay Harbor, Maine. Mrs. Jenny North.

JENNY NORTH (ACTOR #6), age 45, stands.

Scene: Jenny North is rehearsing a eulogy, practicing in front of an imaginary audience.

JENNY NORTH (ACTOR #6)

(in a Maine accent)

“Good afternoon. I’m Jenny North—Paul’s wife.”

“Thank you all for comin’.”

Should I say that? Why not? People do. Okay, here we go—

“Thank you all for comin’. Paul would be gratified to see so many of you here today. Ayuh—he would. My husband was a good man. A really good man. His passing is—"

Uh, let’s see—

“Sad.” Yes, that’s a good word.

“His passing is sad. I won’t pretend otherwise. I’m sad. I guess we all are. He was only 50, for gosh sakes! Died way too soon. Way too soon. Ayuh—sad.”

JENNY stops rehearsing and starts thinking out loud.

JENNY

But on the other hand, . . . Nah, there shouldn’t be no “but”!

JENNY resumes practicing.

JENNY

“He was a good man. Period . . . But . . .”

JENNY thinks out loud again.

JENNY

There’s that “but” again. I guess cuz everything’s different now. Now I’ve gotta face the inevitable. Like what do I do about the house? He left me a good house. Right in town. Nice neighbors on both sides. But what do I do about Becky? By rights, this should be our time now. I should move her right in. Why not, right?

JENNY returns to rehearsing her speech.

JENNY

“You all know about me and Becky, right?”

No, no—I’m not saying that! I don’t know if they know about us or not. No one ever mentions it. Paul never did either. But he knew, right? He had to! But maybe not.

I like to think I never deceived him, but we just never discussed it.

I could say this—“You all know Becky Wiggins, right? She’s my best friend. She’s been very helpful this week, and I just want to acknowledge how much I appreciate that.”

No, I can’t! I’d break down before I got through the first sentence.

Oh, Becky, Becky, Becky! What am I gonna do? This is our time! Just the thought of you sends me soaring! Still, after all these years! What’s so difficult? Best friends always come first. Period. People know that, so I’ll just say it.

“Becky’s gonna be staying with me for a while to help me get through this difficult period.” No! Can’t say that! And if I move her into the house, what are we? Two Down East spinsters sharin’ living quarters? Well, I been married, so I guess technically I’d never be a spinster.

And what do we do—keep separate bedrooms for the sake o’ the neighbors? Ha!

I’m telling you—I’m just not sure I’m ready for any of this. A man dies—and everything changes.

Ayuh—sad.

END OF SCENE

END OF EXCERPT