I Can't Believe It's Not Shakespeare

Working on a new project this week – a workshop reading of a new play by Mariana Carreño King about the Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa.

Fernando Pessoa: Poet, Loony

This has been my first exposure to the work of Pessoa, who wrote poems under dozens of “heteronyms” – beyond pseudonyms, the names he wrote under – Alberto Caeiro, Ricardo Reis, Álvaro de Campos, etc. – were poets unto themselves with complete histories, astrological charts, politics, personalities, and poetical styles.  The heteronyms engaged in debate with one another, criticized one another and wrote each other letters – as well as writing letters to Pessoa’s polygamist (?) girlfriend, Ofélia Queirós, who we can only assume was very confused.

In his writing, sometimes Pessoa views his own personality as a blank – a medium for the voices of his heteronyms.

One of the poems written under his own name begins:

I don’t know how many souls I have.
I’ve changed at every moment.
I always feel like a stranger.
I’ve never seen or found myself.
From being so much, I have only soul.
A man who has soul has no calm.
A man who sees is just what he sees.
A man who feels is not who he is.

Pessoa himself (whatever that means) would compare his work to that of a playwright, although he claimed to be more than a playwright because the identity of “Pessoa” is left completely behind.  While I’m not ready to abdicate the playwright’s personality completely, I’ve been fascinated by the idea and how it correlates to the relationship between a playwright and his or her characters.

Pessoa (which appropriately translates from the Portuguese to “person”) claimed that  whenever he thought he felt his own personality emerging he would soon realize that it was actually the birth of another heteronym.  When my characters are well developed and I’m deep into the world, writing a scene feels more like taking dictation than creating words of my own.  But a playwright must still function as a sort of architect – structuring a world for the other voices to sound in – choosing what to include and when to include it.  Even Pessoa had to decide, (whatever he may have claimed to the contrary), What to Write, Who to Be and When to Be Who.

Pessoa’s perception of having many souls reminds me of the words of another poet:

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
I am large, I contain multitudes.

And though it is said that Portugul’s four greatest poets are Fernando Pessoa, I do not believe that his fragmented personality is unique or even so unusual.  I’d go so far as to say that splitting oneself up into contradictory pieces is a necessity for effectively creating voices that an actor can play and that an audience can believe. It would be a boring play indeed in which every character on stage were speaking for the playwright.  (Especially if you’ve known some playwrights.)

- j.

OFELIA’S LOVERS is a new play by Mariana Carreño King, directed by Henry Guzmán with original music by Sandra Rubio and performances by Arjun Gupta, Maria Helan, Brian Homer, Robert Jiménez, Armando Riesco, and Aaron Schroeder.  Performances will take place June 12th and 13th at ToRoNaDa, 150 First Ave (corner of 9th st), 2nd floor.  Reservations can be made by calling (212) 473-1991.  The workshop reading is free.