A Streetcar Named Desire Written by Tennessee Williams Illustrated by Rachel McAree
And so it was I entered the broken world To trace the visionary company of love, its voice An instant in the wind (I know not whither hurled) But not for long to hold each desperate choice “The Broken Tower� by Hart Crane
A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE
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[She smiles at him radiantly] Would you think it possible that I was once considered to be--attractive? STANLEY: Your looks are okay. BLANCHE: I was fishing for a compliment, Stanley. STANLEY: I don’t go in for that stuff. BLANCHE: What--stuff? STANLEY: Compliments to women about their looks. I never met a woman that didn’t know if she was good-looking or not without being told, and some of them give themselves credit for more than they’ve got. I once went out with a doll who said to me, “I am the glamorous type, I am the glamorous type!” I said, “So what?” BLANCHE: And what did she say then? STANLEY: She didn’t say nothing. That shut her up like a clam. BLANCHE: Did it end the romance? STANLEY: It ended the conversation--that was all. Some men are took in by this Hollywood glamor stuff and some men are not. BLANCHE: I’m sure you belong in the second category. STANLEY: That’s right. BLANCHE: I cannot imagine any witch of a woman casting a spell over you. STANLEY: That’s right. BLANCHE: You’re simple, straightforward and honest, a little bit on the primitive side I should think. To interest you a woman would have to--
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SCENE FIVE
You haven’t heard any--unkind--gossip about me? STELLA: Why, no, Blanche, of course not! BLANCHE: Honey, there was--a good deal of talk in Laurel. STELLA: About you, Blanche? BLANCHE: I wasn’t so good the last two years or so, after Belle Reve had started to slip through my fingers. STELLA: All of us do things we-BLANCHE: I never was hard or sell-sufficient enough. When people are soft--soft people have got to shimmer and glow--they’ve got to put on soft colours, the colours of butterfly wings, and put a--paper lantern over the light.... It isn’t enough to be soft. You’ve got to be soft and attractive. And I--I’m fading now! I don’t know how much longer I can turn the trick. [The afternoon has faded to dusk. Stella goes into the bedroom and turns on the light under the paper lantern. She holds a bottled soft drink in her hand.] BLANCHE: Have you been listening to me? STELLA: I don’t listen to you when you are being morbid! [She advances with the bottled coke.] BLANCHE [with abrupt change to gaiety]: Is that coke for me? STELLA: Not for anyone else! BLANCHE: Why, you precious thing, you! Is it just coke? STELLA [turning]: You mean you want a shot in it! BLANCHE: Well, honey, a shot never does a coke any harm! Let me! You mustn’t wait on me!
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