sister carrie

Chapter 29 (2)

Chapter No.16 Stupid Alating: The Gate of Human Life (2)
"You can't fail," Drouet was puffing up, "just act as you do here. Be natural. You can do it. I've been thinking that you'd make a very good actress."

"Really?" asked Carrie.

"That's right," said the salesman.

When he went out he did not know that he had kindled a secret fire in the breast of the girl who had stayed at home.There is in Carrie a sympathetic and a sensitive nature, and to develop these to the full is the brilliance of the play.She was born with a silently obedient soul, which was always a mirror of the active world.She was endowed with a talent for imitation, and it was not an ordinary talent.Even without practice, she can sometimes re-enact dramatic scenes by looking in the mirror and re-creating the expressions of the various characters in a scene.She loved to adjust her voice after the manner of a suffering heroine, and to sing those passages of pathos which most aroused her sympathy.

Not long ago, she was moved to the point of secretly imitating the innocent style of innocent girls in some tight-knit plays, many of which showed figure and delicate movements, which she sometimes learned secretly in the boudoir .Drouet had caught him several times, and he had thought she was admiring herself in the mirror, when in reality she had shown only that charm which she had seen in other people's little movements of mouth and eyes.Under his groundless blame, she herself misunderstood these as expressions of vanity, vaguely thought that she was wrong, and thus accepted the responsibility, but in fact, these were just the first natural expression of artistic nature. It's just trying to reproduce the aspects of beauty that fascinated her in a realistic way.Know that in these feeble tendencies, in these mechanisms of the desire to reenact life lie the roots of all dramatic art.

Carrie felt a sense of relief in her body now, hearing Drouet's admiration of her dramatic talents.Like a fire that melts scattered things into one hard solid, so these words he said combined some floating thoughts about her talents that she felt and never believed. It rose up and turned into dots of dazzling sparks of hope.Like everyone else, she had a certain vanity.She felt that as long as she was given a chance, she also had the ability to do things well.How many times she had seen the well-dressed actresses on the stage and thought to herself how good-looking she would be, how happy she would be if she were in their shoes.The charm, the tension, the beautiful costumes, the applause, fascinated her so much that at last she thought she could act herself—she could make people have to. Acknowledge the power of touching.She was told now that she really had it--these little gestures she showed at home made even him feel the power of moving.This is nothing short of delightful.

When Drouet was gone, she sat in her rocking-chair under the window, thinking about all this.As usual, the imagination exaggerated the certainty of her future.It was as if he put fifty cents in her palm, but she imagined it was 1000 yuan.She saw herself in such a state of misery that her voice trembled and her actions were terribly painful.Her soul, too, rejoices at scenes of luxury and grace; and on those occasions she is the object of admiration to thousands of eyes, and the master of all fate.She rocked and rocked in the rocking chair, and she felt the pain of being abandoned, the anger of being cheated, and the pain of failure.All those charming women she had seen in her plays--every fancy, every vision of the stage--a thousand thoughts came to her like ebbing and rising tides.She had thus cultivated feelings and a resolution that were not really appropriate to the present situation.

When Drouet reached the city, he turned to the branch.When meeting Mr. Quincel, he put on an air of grandeur, a deliberate sham.

"Where is the young lady you are looking for us?" asked Mr. Quincel.

"I have found her," said Drouet.

"Really?" said Quincel, surprised at his quickness. "That's all right. Where's her address?" He took out his notepad so he could send her her lines.

"Are you trying to give her the lines?" the salesman asked.

"Yes."

"Well, I'll take it. I was going to her house this morning."

"Where is her address you said? We want her address just in case there is news to inform her."

"29 Ogton Apartments."

"What's her name?"

"Carrie Matonda," the salesman answered casually.Branch members knew he was a bachelor.

"So it looks like somebody could play it, doesn't it?"

"Yes, there are people."

He took home his lines about the characters and gave them to Carrie with the air of doing her a favor.

"He said it was the best part. Do you think you can do it?"

"I'll have to see it. Now I've said I'd like to, but you know I'm afraid."

"Oh, just do it. You have nothing to be afraid of. These people are not serious professionals. They're just like you."

"Well, let me see," said Carrie, glad to have the part in spite of all her misgivings.

Before he said the next sentence, he walked up and down nervously, brushing his hair, not knowing what to do.

"They're going to print the program," he said. "I named them Carrie Mactonda. Is that right?"

"It seems right to me," said his partner, looking up at him.There was something odd about this, she thought.

"You know, it doesn't matter if you don't act well."

"Oh, yes," she replied, still pleased with his admonition.Drouet was simply clever.

"I didn't introduce you as my wife because then it would be hard for you if you didn't make it. They all know me well. But you'll make it. Anyway, you won't ever Deal with them."

"Oh, I don't mind," said Carrie decidedly.She had now made up her mind to try this fascinating thing.

Drouet was relieved.He has been worried that the topic of marriage will be stirred up.

Carrie took a closer look and saw that the character of Laura was one who suffered and lived through tears.As Mr. Darry describes it, it is faithful to the hallowed traditions of melodrama that he has learned from the beginning of his career.The mournful presence, the trembling music, the long explanatory spouts, it's all there.

"Poor thing," Carrie read from her book, drawing out her mournful voice, "Martin, take care of him, and give him a drink before he goes."

She was surprised that the whole character's lines were not long, and she didn't know that she had to be on stage when other characters spoke, and not only on stage, but also in harmony with the development of the whole drama.

"In spite of this, I think I can act." She came to this conclusion.

When Drouet returned next evening, she was very satisfied with the results of her day's reflections.

"Well, how's it going, Carrie?" he said.

"Okay," she said with a smile, "I think I've got almost all of it."

"Well," he said, "let's listen to part of it."

"Oh, I don't know if I can act here, read it," she replied sheepishly.

"Oh, I don't see why you can't. It's easier here than there."

"I don't know that," she replied.

In the end, she performed the ballroom interlude so emotionally that the deeper she got into the scene, the more she forgot about the existence of Drouet, and only pushed her emotions to the highest point.

"Well," said Drouet, "very, very good! Listen to me, you've done a good job, Carrie."

He was really moved by her remarkable performance, and by the way the poor little thing stumbled and finally fell to the ground.He jumped up to grab her, and finally wrapped his arms around her who was laughing.

"Aren't you afraid of hurting yourself?" he asked.

"Not at all."

"Oh, you're amazing. Listen to me, I never knew you could do it."

"I don't know myself," said Carrie amusingly, with a gleam in her delighted face.

"Oh, you can do it," said Drouet; "I'm sure I'm right. You can't fail."

(End of this chapter)