DEAD SOUL: A TRIBUTE AND HOMAGE TO the work of Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol

DEAD SOUL: A Tribute to Nicholai Gogol  A PLAY (Please mind the lack of a format it's my first play and was written in the voice or style of Gogol. Written in one sitting Christmas day 2009). Its a nightmare to dream and not remember it. You know I recall forgetting once, I think it was in a dream. Still I can not be sure. Quite possible I was forgetting what you remembered I ought to forget, and are not telling me. So mean of you. I think you are a bad influence on me and have stolen my dream. And so, you will notice that since your last visit our very political structure here has changed. It took lots of work, but being unable to dream, I decided to waste no time and avoided sleep all together. It was no easy task I will let you know. For twenty years now, I have worked diligently. Sleep I found makes people lazy. You wouldn't notice it if you were dreaming I suppose along with them. I wondered for a time if I wasn't assigned the task of making sure we are all still alive. It COULD be the case that if everyone on the planet fell asleep at the same time we would all cease to exist, and so I was of course quite honored with the designation of keeper of the night's winds. IF you pay attention, you can see the wind, how it flows over people's body and brings them their dream. I was alarmed the first time I saw it. I was petrified. I didn't know if I was dead or not, but people in the village the next day spoke to me. I mean you have to admit, many a people talk to the dead. Why I know of a lady who argued with her husband for three years after his death. He kept complaining that the food was cold, and she naturally in keeping and without I assure you any kind jest, would scoff at the man, lock him out of the house and chastise him, much to his humiliation and to the disdain of the neighbours who on the grounds of a grudge some years before, just despise the man. Oh and the other times that he would show up drunk, and you would hear them fight, how they would fight. The whole village I think at best napped a few minutes here and there between the sounds of her smashing dishes. She locked him out and that was it. He never returned and she cried and cried. Everyone in the village chipped in to buy her a spare dish. But it was a magnificent dish, drawn upon by the finest draftsmen in the Ukraine. Rumour has it was the very last dish made at a porcelain shop that was closing due to a death in the family. These finest of craftsman heard of the poor lady's plight and drew angels and all of the most holy of scenes on it. And how it was more a platter or no a bowl, a magical thing really, it could have filled up if one person then the whole village, I assure you. Such love in that, the loss of love. And you think this a strange story? Stranger still is that the husband of course had to find a place to live and what with the death in the family of the people who made the fine china bowl, and need of a new income, why the man's rumoured showing there was legendary. A drunkard he was. But the family at least had some income from it but HAD they known that it was the husband of the woman that had been left upon the beaten path, there in her home making her nightly dish, the same each night, of halushka, with a small shot-glass of Vodka, for her dear Ivan. Tragic you see, is love, for love is like that a dream one cannot remember, when it's lost. A dream that never finds its way home. Now, you are asking indeed how it could be that I know that this man at the house turned in of once a great foundry found its convert in such misfortune that took place just as I say. While you may not believe it, over the last many years, I have watched dreams, the way they move, and how they affect the person the next day. A dream is never a static thing so you must train the eyes, you know, and just as one learns a language or no, no, perhaps the best way to put it is a vernacular of sorts, yes that... When one trains the eyes as one trains the ears one can say with great or I am told even the profoundest of mastery even the very village of origin lets say that a person is from, and so from the same feverish calculus I too would witness and by acquaintance and custom, and a sometimes
unpleasant habit, find myself knowing most every dream in the village and how it affected most everyone. Did you know that there are TYPES of dreams, I mean some that are like photographs, moving and static, a type of dream you see that has a type of effect. This is why its important to pray, for I notice as well when people don't pray the dreams rush faster into that static place, that place that leads to a meandering and wandering day. But they deserve it, they're quite lazy. I had of course I must admit, developed an ever so much slighter amount of jealousy about the dreams, that people would have them. And the succubi you might see, would at times make me regret indeed that my work took me so far from the normal graces of being amongst the finest of women as I was when I was, well, one might say able to dream and recall. I recalled nothing after a month of trying and so decided I would thwart your game this time, you demon. I know you well, stealer of dreams, taker of the fine pleasures that the flesh is heir to. So you will notice that the rules of this village have changed. I am not a baker any more, you may have noticed the small sign above the door. No? Well, I left the ovens there and other people use it but yes, if you'll notice this desk here, which was not there some twenty years ago. Notice how its made of the finest imported woods, inlaid with ebony and various dense woods from the most exotic parts of the world. I decided to resist your snare, and worked most diligently for this moment of victory you see. That right there as attested to by the sign, is now the very office of myself the regent mayor and regional titular representative of this AND the adjacent region. I have indeed been well at work. As you know idle hands do the devils work. So, I found myself at this place, a place of power, and by way of my pristine work ethic and good character (for I did not chase women as I did in my youth, why the women at church would even go so far as to chastise me and call me the very reincarnation of St. Augustine himself! You see with all this great repute was drawn to me as if by destiny this role and now this victory against you. And I know you well. I know how you hide in the wind, and send the dreams to that silent place, and how you replace them with nightmares. I have now made it, by the powers vested by me, from the state...Illegal to dream. I am afraid your terrible taint and lack of restraint will not be met with much resistance here from the locals were it merely the case that you could claim any such vetoing authority by appealing to the adjacent district... for as you can see by way of my popularity I have quite well and most diligently planned for this day. The only way you could appeal is by means of appeal directly to the King himself. A very good friend of mine. Do you see that jade paperweight there, with that marvellous pattern and design of oriental charm, why that was given to me by the king himself, a very close and good friend of mine. AND should you ever attempt to even draw near the king, you would be driven from this very region for all time. I don't know why the king would tolerate you so long, I have it on good authority that the king can replace nightmares for dreams, or nightmares for worse ones, and have seen once on a visit to a pilgrimage to a sepulture of a saint there in St. Petersburgh, the very same evil dreams and nightmares flowing from the king's castle, why from his very room, so as you will indeed see and know, its not at all possible that you might be able to veto such a powerful king, whom I will have you know is a close and personal friend of mine. So with this fair demon, and I know you well, I see what you do to the young ladies here, and have by all my power driven you out on this day, did you not pass the new gates? did you not notice the craft-work of our blacksmith and woodworkers on the gate, why its the finest in all of the Ukraine, and Russia for that matter. Few towns have it, but in all honesty few towns till now would need it I would guess, for certainly no one in any of them had been without sleep for 20 years. It has been a most daunting of tasks for me to accomplish this and I am quite disappointed that you would not even have the courtesy to read the signs, or the craft-work. Hell is indeed an artless place, demon. An artless place indeed. How foolish of me to expect you I would suppose to appreciate the fine craftmanship. All of this region is to be cleared of your ever entering back, its the law, sanctioned by the king himself, as vested in my authority, which on his behalf is a sound extension of his will in virtue of the powers granted me.
(THE DEMON LOOKS SHOCKED AND SMILES BENEATH HIS CLOAK EYES NOT VISIBLE, LOOKING BENEATH HIS CLOAK LIKE A GRIM GRINNING REAPER)
IF you did you would notice that the very desk there, there ((clears papers off the table)), there see that wonderful sign of the cross, that and other fine motifs of the finest inlay adorn the eastern side of the gate. we could not unfortunately afford to adorn the full gate, and I had to of course afford the desk, which as you know is a sign of my authority in this village. Not a single person in the entire village has even a most ancient or reliquary of family heirlooms to capture the great power and handiwork of this fine object. My testament to you.
OH, what? That? well that's not decoration no. I am a master at chess you know. I had that inlaid there. What? HA, why not even the king who did once entertain me to a game could beat me. Don't be silly. Why demon, what a foolish one you are, I fear the sending and receiving of nightmares has made you delusional it would seem. Why you must either be without dreams or may have lost a nightmare on your way here, and the delirium might have hurt your venture, or more aptly had you in preparation for this day arrived with all the nightmares in the region to attempt to bind me for you learned of my plan. That must be it, why did I not think of it first. How fowl, and so predictable you are you silly delusional demon, so sorry to have you make the trip for nothing. What? Why for nothing? WHAT do you mean? I'M INSULTED. Why the king is a good friend of mine, I could never risk such a thing. Trade a game of chess for THAT! It would be absurd. I haven't the authority; still...you press, and why demon, why? You see, I am the prize am I not, for I have tricked you haha! what a treasure is this. But still... I must admit, I have already won, and it would be a hollow victory if you think about it. It makes some sense yes to consider it, though I feel a strange and inward delight at the prospect I must admit. It makes some sense yes I suppose, I mean to trade ALL of the dreams from the people of Great Russia, to empty her of her nightmares would be an even greater honour indeed. But it...bu...well it....it makes no sense WHY the king would even allow it, ...once the nightmares would be removed, why all of Great Russia would know my name would they not. Wait, yes, that you must agree that if I win, you will tell all of Russia of my name and the great plight of my win and gain. And you must take dreams indeed away from them as well. I will not have a lazy nation, no I could not see that either. It would make no sense that the king would allow it. But he as my friend, a dear friend, would indeed after seeing all of these improvements here quicken his grace and forgive such a small slight, be it as it may for I will have made his kingdom far more rich indeed. What? For that you want WHAT. (Our protagonist Petrovich turns pale), My SOUL, why I don't see you having any need for it, that's quite absurd a matter, my bond is to my king and my God, I simply cannot see it be a reasonable thing for you to ask. Ask instead for a share of the crop this year, oh and we built a new mine, this will attract some people for work, as you can see the village may by this venture one-day grow to be a town! Think of that, I can offer you a small bit of gold from the nearby mine, but a smallest of measures at that. The king himself, my dear friend is to arrive tomorrow to check the authenticity of the mine, with hopes that it is real, and if so, I myself will be given a promotion and will, I will have you know be responsible for founding the production of the some of the very material upon which the king himself will have his image minted. It wasn't easy, many years of work, diligent work 20 years of work, and to think from it, I am indeed one of the closest titular councillors and indeed the only mayoral representative of such a provincial territory to be bestowed the great honour. Perhaps one day too I will be given great lands, and there we could if you so wish play chess often, but I simply cannot play a game of chess without a soul, as you know we Ukrainian Russians like the elite Kossaks put all of our heart and soul into the battle, and I cannot simply play with heart alone, you ask too much of me. No, you would not consider that at all. Well what if you took just some of my soul, would that suffice. Lets say allow you to take just under half my soul, I say this smiling for the chances of you winning this game are the slightest of slight, the closest thing to impossible indeed. I should have indeed have simply said yes to your most absurd offer to begin with and won the game by now, but you know I am not a cheat and assure you I am not ever to wager a THING to lose my stature in the village, this future town of ours. Fine then, lets be on with it, then be on your way, and I will have you know demon, I am not a sore winner, you will be welcomed to return and play me again and again, preferably at night as I am quite busy during the day with work, and managing various officiative district and regional business, but may be available at night yes once in a while for the game, I am sure I may be able to make time for that indeed. (the table is pulled away from the wall, Petrovich draws out of the table a fine set of wooden chess pieces and an ivory set of the finest craftmanship, the pieces look almost alive, and are as drawn by the creator himself, a mystical realist chess set the likes of which perhaps not even kings had known. Its a little known fact that Petrovich himself kept this hidden from the king, realizing that the king would likely ask for the set, his pride and joy)...(this part will be interspersed with calling out the steps of the chess table in the background, FOLLOWED BY...the rest of the story told by the demon). YOU KNOW, I have ventured long and many a day. You know of work, but not as a beast of burden, your response to your unfortunate demise is one of great fortune and misfortune. Indeed you know we demons well, as do all idle hands and all people who labour to know us. I have seen you notice the dreams as they leave and enter, and have wondered what drew such great a mind to this unfortunate event. I have it on good authority that you were given
dreams and ordered to merely take them away, as a bad dinner without taste would empty the desire for filling ones stomach. Yes I smiled when you thought to be able to cast me out. How odd a request. But you see, I was smiling as well, for you think that dreams are but things brought to people. I laughed indeed when you said that a person must make all some such said sacrifices in the name of progress and in that vein, find himself wanting for need not only of sleep but authority. It would seem that the issue at hand is one indeed of the crafty mind you have and not one of craftmanship, for of my overlord you see, it is quite apparent that even devils are fasioned with some good to great measure of taste. Even devils or a demon such as myself could appreciate the one wing of your gate...a most gaudy of gates however, and out of place indeed. Placed with almost laberinthine distraction of a Moslamic (Mohameddian Islamic inlay) order, quite brilliantly reelected here in this desk drawn from the four corners of the world...indeed to the profit of some great distraction to you. You see, I find it odd that you would adorn this gate with the cross, Why the cross, I myself have never understood that. Why the symbol of death of your saviour. If someone were to save your child and died in a tragic way, would you commemorate the person with sculptures or images of being run over by a speeding carriage say? Its most odd indeed that the salvific form is always one of or to some great degree a tragedy. And so you say you the great Tzar and are his friend, and have made great pilgrimages to both him and the saints, and for this what have you attained but a role and subservience. Why a man of your stature should be king and Tzar if you labor so diligently, and yet to this You could have aimed and did not, you could have started a local gathering in revolt but did not. ESPECIALLY WITH SUCH GREAT RICHES NEARBY. And you offer up some of these in the stead of your soul like a coward. and for the conceit of your great talent would nonetheless wager a war against yourself so to speak. All on a misunderstanding. I will for lack of a better term out of respect, offer you awareness of some of this great mystery of dreams this little misunderstanding you have. For you it is a nightmare to not remember a dream, and howl against the inevitability of your newfound talent and skill of yes seeing my actions but never me. For we demons are sometimes and often hidden even to ourselves. Dreams are not what you take of it, but what you make of it, and it indeed is the folding and unfolding of man. Not the unpacking of the soul, but its very packaging so to speak. And as such an offering, so now with this allow me to change the wager, for in some circles some such manners are permitted even when not permitting. As you are vested by your role some measure of authority by your king and see indeed me in function and not form, may be speculative that I might have the scope of authority to allow or merely disallow and permit certain exchanges occurring at the great expanse of my seemingly regional representation, but I assure you I am true to the scope of this offer. it is you see, within my authority to offer you an even greater deal in exchange for your winning, and as you can see, I like you, and see you are winning at this point in the game, but trust that my plan here and strategy is one you cannot see in the game, for which will render me the victor (Petrovich scoffs and laughs). You see, I am willing to allow you to banish me from the dream, for I can indeed offer that no more nightmares will exist, not merely here in This provincial district and Russia but the whole of the world. IF in exchange, if you lose, you will have to take over as Tzar, for I believe it most fitting and suitable of you to do so. I would say it was ordained and writ in the stars if it be a matter of your not doubting your power to win the game. Why that would NOT be ridiculous. The king could be relocated indeed to a small region, just like this and be made a local kingship of sorts, and with all the people working and in your debt, will never indeed have reason to want a dream let alone to rebel to their king, which is you Petrovich, for you have not offered to cheat either me or the King for the great wealth of this fine region which you as "local regent" as you put it, have so breathtakingly transformed the people of this region with your great observation and familiarity with the fine folk of this area.
(Petrovich's position in the game almost galvanized and ensured a win, and the foolish losses and sacrifices the demon has made in the game, and the rationale of the demon tempt Petrovich who responds) Why the king, is the equivalent of God on earth! What on earth do you speak, sheer madness and nothing more. Still, think, a world without nightmares at all, without these pesky dreams and if they are as you say something not brought to us, but brought to life by us, then surely the greater time spent working on these waking dreams would but strengthen every nation. Oh what strange fortune to be tempted in this way, you knowing my good nature, know that I cannot say no, but must, yet mustn't at the same time refuse for I would indeed be a fool, given the great opportunity of this game.
Might it be the case that yes, I do not see you devils for what you are and have erred my whole life. It is an odd thing to think. Could I be so wrong and if so, what is my obligation indeed. Perhaps yes it is my destiny to offer this up. But how foolish it would be and is that this very event is taking place, it could be the case that I have fallen asleep after 20 long years and am dreaming, and at the least it should be rewarded with this risk and change in wager, while I am most unsure about it in either case from my own perspective I've no choice, but obligation to accept, though somewhat reluctantly. Ah you see, it is nature. Human nature to offer what one does not have, for it is there that people gain what they should never have, or may have peace in having a longing for having a longer dream. What is the case between the player and the game is that the soul, as part and parcel finds in destiny a sort of accumulation of both the expected and unexpected, and for this let us play on.
3 minutes of game-play. The board above them appears now as a projection that only the audience can see, where we see the unfolding play of a master meeting his match, seemingly going towards a stalemate, the demon's unexpected brilliant step takes the queen, then rook and in a strange twist of fate, the impossible tide turns. Petrovich turns pale. Checkmate. From...but...how.... You see my works, but not who I am, your function here is not to question fate or destiny, but freedom and choice. I have played such a game thousands of times, played games of chess not a game of chance, but skill many upon many a-time, and would not cheat you for as you could see we were evenly matched as players. Instead I risked as it were something I have risked time and time again, for what else ensures that dreams are met with nightmares lest be left without dream or nightmare or change and chance to distinguish either. The Demon takes off the cloak, revealing the king. You see my dear friend, I arrived somewhat early, and could not help but take the opportunity to see how you are, Oh you do indeed see my works, my working in a most mysterious of ways. How odd that you might notice my movements even from my window in your ventures and not know me. As it is said that we see as if through a mirror dimly and oneday face to face. I have merely arrived to thank you for the hard work and yet now see your faith was not for sale but for the slander of your opportunity. Had you however, not been so reluctant, my men, who are lodged at this inn we found with a man who drinks quite a bit, and with the finest of dishes, simply stupendous dishes, I was so tempted to stay there, but dear friend, I had to make my way here early on my own horse in this disguise, to speak so directly to you and investigate the forge tomorrow. Alas, we demons know not ourselves. The demon removes his cloak to reveal the king beneath the thick shadowy hood, (Petrovich looks startled). The king says. You know this is a most marvelous chess set, I believe I will be taking this and leave you with your life. Sedition is a most heinous crime in every regency to my great learned understanding. But I am forgiving and great, as you yourself confess, dear friend. Loading the chess pieces all of them now with smiles and smirks on their faces into a sack, the king leaves. Ahhhhh but I leave you with more than this, for the great game, I leave you with all of your soul and a dream. I must be going I think I will instead not offer your "local regency" in this or any other region again, and thank you for the lovely game. I really must be going now, as I believe it would only be fitting, after your lovely description of that innkeeper's dish-work, to acquire some of it for its legendary charm. The King loads up the bag and leaves. My men will set up and extract the gold, and give you, your mayor-ship your fair share. Morning, and Petrovich awakes. The table pushed against the wall, and he did NOT move it. A sigh of releif. Had he been dreaming the whole while. With great disappointment he looks in the mirror to see himself an old man, somewhat more well rested. And to his lazy morning and delayed delight a certain thanks for a dream, the king had not even been there. It was all a dream...but wait. while the chess board was covered in papers exactly as it was the night before, the chess pieces were gone. And that he kept under lock and key. He breaks into a cold sweat. The villagers arrive wondering why the kings men arrived in the morning and extracted all of the gold that was in waiting WITH the king, and why they were not informed, and they hand Petrovich a letter with the king's seal and a single gold coin, with Petrovich's face on it as regent. With a note from the King saying. To forget a nightmare is the beginning of a dream.