WeeklyWorker

02.10.1997

Dour pessimism

Alan Fox reviews 'Cross purpose' by Albert Camus (Prince Theatre, Greenwich, to October 5)

Written in 1945, Cross purpose (Le malentendu) is one of Camus’ most renowned plays. In it he returns once again to the theme which runs through many of his works: l’absurde - human alienation from apparently meaningless existence and the impossibility of achieving liberation.

Cross purpose pushes this pessimistic theme to its extreme. After spending 20 years abroad without contact with his family, Jan returns to his native village where his mother and sister, Martha, run an inn. Stretching our credulity, Jan is not recognised by either woman - but, as Martha points out later, we all go unrecognised in this life. Hoping that their very humanity will lead them to the truth, Jan does not reveal his identity, expecting to be rewarded with the joy of reunion when it is finally acknowledged. He believes his family will spontaneously and inevitably realise who he is.

It is a vain hope. His mother and sister, weighed down by the burden of running the inn and the drudgery of their life, have sought escape through murdering their wealthy guests in order to accumulate enough money to move far away to a warm climate by the sea. Ironically Jan has himself achieved just such a life and has returned to help them in whatever way he can.

For Martha this dream is an obsession. All that matters is getting away from the village, and human relationships (except with her mother) have absolutely no meaning for her.

For her mother even the dream of leaving has faded, and she wearily continues to carry out their murderous schemes only to satisfy her daughter. In contrast Jan seeks to supersede the alienation of society through individual solutions.

The dour conclusion reached by Camus is that there is no escape - the prospect of liberation through human cooperation is explicitly ruled out. All, whether innocent or guilty, well-meaning or malign, are destined to remain trapped. If our existence was played out only as individuals, we would be forced to accept the fate Camus sets out for us. But we also exist as members of a society, members of a class with common interests, and collectively our action can change our environment, making redundant the instinct to escape.

The Galleon Theatre Company, resident at the Prince, makes up for the low-budget stage setting and lighting by the enthusiasm and passion of its performance. In particular Rosa Blacker as Martha is compelling, while John Treherne’s musical effects add to the atmosphere of hopelessness into which Camus leads the audience.

Alan Fox