When the title of the play is the worst line to say…
When well written and carefully placed, monologues function as beats of narrative catharsis by employing tactics to express the speaker’s want. In other words, a monologue projecting the character’s final attempt to achieve their want at the climax of their arc allows for a release that changes everything for the character. As the story progresses, the air inflates (conflict), preventing them from getting what they want. When it is about to pop, they break (monologue) and either pop in the process (ending) or deflate and go through the resolution through the end of the play.
Specifically, in this analysis, a monologue is spoken by a single character to someone or a group. There are no restrictions on the length of a monologue, although typically, it ranges from twenty to thirty lines—some may even span several pages. The purpose of the monologue is to push forward the overall arc of the play. Monologues are crucial for playwriting and various platforms, including television, film, video games, sermons, and speech debates. Generally, the monologue illuminates the characters' motives and internal struggles and evokes a change in the listener, eventually earning them their want. However, they not only serve the speaker. When carefully placed in the grand scheme of a character’s arc and point of narrative, the release a character feels evokes the same feeling in the audience. This research explores why monologues make people feel something when they hear one and offers insight into how to know when it’s the perfect time to give one.
There is an old saying in the theater; if there is a gun shown in act one, it must go off in act two. Some argue it defeats the element of surprise, and others appreciate the small warning it gives the audience. However, in a play like Night Mother, the purpose of the gun is deemed more frightening than revealing the gun itself. Playwright Marsha Norman carefully constructs the suspense throughout ‘Night Mother when the audience discovers our main character Jessie intends to commit suicide with it—which puts pressure on the characters from start to end.
At the top of the play, Norman creates a specific routine for our main characters, Mama and Jessie. Mama demands Jessie’s full attention on her, but she realizes it is much harder to get when Jessie consumes her time with tasks to check off her to-do list. Rather than sharing what’s on her list, Jessie attempts to distract Mama with mundane conversation causing the first bit of tension between the two. Norman escalates the conflict by adding the father's pistol to the list of items Jessie tries to find. Finally, Jessie admits, “I’m going to kill myself, Mama.” (Norman 13) To which Mama responds, “Very funny. Very funny.” (Norman 14) At this point in the play, Mama does not need to monologue, she does not even take Jessie’s comment seriously. If we imagine the conflict inflating like a balloon, this first comment blows the first huff of air. The more Mama pushes, the more air increases; we want the monologue to happen right before or as that balloon pops.
Of course, Mama wants to know why. Instead of directly answering Mama, Jessie moves through her list meant to prepare Mama for departure. Jessie shares a few things on it, including how the washer works, who to call for groceries, and where the extra candies she bought are. Within the first fifteen minutes of the play, each character’s wants are apparent. Jessie wants to kill herself, while Mama wants to save Jessie’s life. The remainder of the play revolves around Jessie’s goal to kill herself at night’s end. Mama employs many tactics to find out why Jessie wants to kill herself. From nagging to begging, then promising she can do whatever it takes to fix it—but nothing seems to work. The constant power struggle inevitably creates tension and pressure between the two parties.
Jessie admits that her mother has influenced her decision, even if unconsciously. They both agree that Mama’s words will not sway Jessie’s choice. The playwright forces the audience into ambiguous moral territory when Mama finally relents. They discuss the final steps of the plan, including whom Mama will contact first and what gifts she will give Jessie’s loved ones.At this point, the conflict causes the balloon to inflate so much that it is on the verge of bursting. Then, for the first time in the play, we hear Jessie say, “Night Mother,” go into the bedroom and lock the door. Finally, Mama delivers the monologue that ends the play.
“MAMA: (Screams) Jessie! (And Pounds on the door,) Jessie, you let me in there. Don’t you do this, Jessie. I’m not going to stop screaming until you open this door, Jessie. Jessie! Jessie! What if I don’t do any of the things you told me to do! I’ll tell Cecil what a miserable man he was to make you feel the way he did and I’ll give Ricky’s watch to Dawson if I feel like it and the only way you can make sure I do what you want is to come out here and make me, Jessie! (Pounding again.) Jessie! Stop this! I didn’t know! I was here with you all this time. How could I know you were so alone? (And Mama stops for a moment, breathless and frantic, putting her ear to the door and when she doesn’t hear anything, she stands back up straight again and screams once more.) Jessie! Please! ( And we hear the shot, and it sounds like an answer, and it sounds like No. And Mama collapses against the door, tears streaming down her face, but not screaming anymore. In shock now.) Jessie, Jessie, child . . . Forgive me. (A pause.) I thought you were mine. (And she leaves the door and makes her way through the living room, around the furniture, as though she didn’t know where it was, not knowing what to do. Finally, she goes to the stove in the kitchen and picks up the hot chocolate pan and carries it with her to the telephone and holds onto it while she dials the number. She looks down at the pan, holding it tight like her life depended on it. She hears Loretta answer.) Loretta, let me talk to Dawson, honey.” (Norman 57-58)
The final monologue, spanning around fifteen lines, is dominated by stage directions rather than actual dialogue. It is not likely that an actor chooses this monologue for an audition, yet I constantly revisit it because of its artistry. This monologue fills with as much of Jessie as it does with Mama through the stage direction. The audience, Mama and Jessie feel the same release of the balloon popping as the bullet goes off. The worst possible thing that could happen has happened—we don’t have anything left to wait for. That moment holds a gripping sensation of tension and relief for everyone. There is a distinct moment of catharsis in the dialogue and stage direction.
Monologues are effective mechanisms that drive the movement of a scene forward and devise a sense of urgency in the narrative. By permitting a character to speak uninterrupted, their dialogue can convey their thoughts and emotions in a way that shifts the audience’s perspective and excitingly moves the story. Are they necessary to propel the story? Not exactly. When successful, a character is under immense pressure, pushed to their limits, and has exhausted all other options to achieve their desires. These monologues are explosive and occur at the perfect moment, causing a shift in the story. As mentioned earlier, the first time we hear about Jessie’s plan, a monologue would have been out of place. However, at this exact moment there resides no other option but to explode. Mama does not achieve her goal, but the monologue achieves its desired effect on the audience, and gives Mama a cathartic moment and a huge hit of (maybe temporary) self-awareness when she says, “I thought you were mine.” (Norman 58)
The play’s conflict revolves around two characters who constantly switch positions of power. By the end, Jessie takes that power into the bedroom and controls the outcome of the story. After she says, “Night Mother,” Mama has lost all power. It shows as she begins to switch tactics with every line. Resentment turns into anger, as Mama will say anything to save her daughter. The story takes a tragic turn as indicated by stage directions. “(And we hear the shot, and it sounds like an answer, and it sounds like No. And Mama collapses against the door, tears streaming down her face, but not screaming anymore. In shock now.)” (Norman 58) Norman intentionally crafts this monologue with more stage direction than lines to emphasize the importance of the narrative. Mama spends all her time talking and not enough time listening. Monologues play a crucial role in fulfilling wants, especially when a character feels trapped and has no other option.
The purpose of the play is not to raise awareness about mental health. The reason the audience sympathizes with Jessie is because Mama uses her dependency to maintain control. Jessie sacrifices her own life to care for Mama. The sound of the gunshot in the stage directions symbolizes the end of Jessie’s life, the end of this horrible codependency, yet the start of change for Mama. During the final monologue, the characters and audience experience a moment of release. This moment is only possible due to the extreme pressure built from start to finish with this final release at the end.
