My life (sad as it is):
It seems like I always return to the lake. I was born on my Uncle's estate. My mother moved there for the last three months of her pregnancy-- right after her legendary performance in Hamlet. She was eighteen; she was Ophelia. It was the performance that made her famous. She has tried to outdo herself in Hamlet for my entire life.
I grew up following my parents all over Russia. Staying with Mama or Papa as they rehearsed different plays. Mostly I lived with Mama when they had to split up.
"Koysta's growing up to be a stage actor," she would tell everyone. I even played an extra part in one or two of her shows. I'd read hundreds of plays by the time I was ten. I would run lines with Mama and Papa for all of their shows-- mostly Mama. She always said I was better than her male leads. When Papa got a permanent job with the state theater in Moscow I didn't see him much. Mama insisted on spending summers at the estate, by the lake. I used to put on little puppet shows and one acts with the children that lived by the lake. Nina was always there. I always loved to make her laugh.
For my eleventh birthday, Papa visited at the estate. He brought me a puzzle box from China-- he told me it was a secret where he got it. "If you can figure out how it opens, you can have what's inside," he said. I remember I rubbed my hands raw trying to open that thing. I had to know what was in there. At last, after a week, I couldn't stand it and I smashed it open with a rock. There was nothing inside. And I cried, there by the lake with my knees in the mud. I felt so stupid, I had ruined it. Papa's beautiful present from China, and for nothing. I have always wanted to ask him why he gave me that, why there was nothing inside. I think it was a test of my intelligence or my patience- or both, and I failed.
I'll never know. He died in the winter. Mama was crushed- but she was dauntless. We moved permanently to the estate- or at least, I did. First, I decided I would be the best actor in Russia- better than Papa. I was never any good though. Mama would get me into auditions and tell the director how wonderful I was, but I'd freeze. Nerves. I'd start sweating and forget my monologue or whatever.
So I decided to be a writer because I thought I could change everything. I'd show everybody what a play could be. I had such VISIONS! I saw plumes of fire and steam, the damp of the sea, the moon, the stars-- all on a stage. I could have done it- but people don't listen. They have too much to lose. But they will listen-- one way or another.
University of Puget SoundGretchen Haley, University of Puget Sound dramaturgy scholar and production dramaturg for The Seagull, created this site with the help of company members. It has been revised by Lori Ricigliano.