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THE RAVAGING [more info continued]

Cast
MARGARET - 32, looking for New Blood
MAX, 35 - The Old Blood
VERONICA - 21, looking to get lost
CURTIS - 20, The New Blood

About The Play
I spent six hot years in Texas.  But the last summer, there was a heat wave, Texas-style.  Which meant it still read ninety degrees and sticky at 10 PM. But like all things Texas, they are big and bold and extreme.  And when the weather finally breaks, the sky opens up.  And speaking of breaks, you can’t live in Texas long without hearing about The Walls in Huntsville, Texas.  That’s Maximum Security.  There was a prison break or two during my sojourn in Texas.  We would follow the manhunt on the news, routing for the underdog.  But what about the people who have been ravaged by violence?  Perhaps they weren’t as excited about the prospect of a convict on the loose.  The Ravaging imagines the hot hysteria of just such a night.  There’s a prison break.  And two sisters wrestle with the ancient history of their parents’ violent death.  Maggie spews psychobabble while Veronica speaks in tongues.  Is she hearing voices?  Going insane?  Is it the heat?  Or did she really see something she should never have seen?   The Ravaging is a taut drama of passion, violence, and damage.  And when the sky finally opens up, the rains will relieve, cleanse, and wash away the violence that haunts one family in Hunstville, Texas.

What Others Are Saying
“The Ravaging made you sit up and take notice.  Unbuttoned and quirky, it revealed a with-it imagination, both darkly humorous and politically astute.”  –Anne Marie Walsh, San Diego Union-Tribune

“Flawless.” --Michael Barnes, Austin American-Statesman

“The Ravaging is as welcome as rain on parched ground.” --Jamie Smith, Austin American-Statesman

 


VERONICA:  It is not the pain
It's the sound
If you asked Prometheus, he would tell you the same thing.
The pain is abstract
But the sound
Is
Terror
     Two birds of prey
     Taken against their will
     Inserted into the breast of a young girl
It is not the pain
It's the fullness
Contrary to popular mythology
The anticipation is worse than the punishment
The pain is finite
But the fullness
Is
Violence
     Two birds of prey
     Held against their will
     Gauge the strength of the perimeter
I open my mouth
I open my mouth
     But they won't fly out
I beat my chest
I beat my chest
     & they beat me back
I stop eating
because I think I can starve them
     Ha!  the hunger fuels their fury
I hum as loud as I can to carry me from the obvious
But my voice is wrecked
& the noise never does stop in my head
Listen
     I can hear them
As they test the flexibility of my ribs
The strength of my intestines
The endurance of my arteries
     I can hear them
As they test my will
From the inside out
I shine a flashlight down my throat
To simulate the rising sun
But they don't retreat
They no longer respect the ancient tradition
They no longer grant me time to mend my wounds
Their wings flap faster harder
Pushing against the periphery
Which is nothing but skin and bones
Slight and fragile
Which is nothing
But the breast of a young girl
Their vigil is too righteous
This vessel
Can no longer withstand the struggle
It is not the pain
It's the terrible sound of the violent fullness
Come out, come out wherever you are
Come out, come out wherever you are
If I could catch them?
I would wring their little necks.