55 pages • 1 hour read
Caryl ChurchillA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This guide includes discussion of rape of girls and women, child brides, sex, childbirth, miscarriage, abortion, babies dying or being killed, taking children from their mothers, adoption, dead kittens, murder, and blood.
The third act takes place in Joyce’s kitchen a year before the events of Act II. Marlene is visiting Joyce and Angie, and she has brought gifts. Angie is happily eating the chocolates Marlene brought, and she opens another gift to reveal the dress from earlier in Act II. Angie opens a gift for her mother, a bottle of expensive perfume, and insists that they all wear it and smell the same. Angie rushes off to try on the dress. Joyce is unenthusiastic, put out by a guest she wasn’t expecting, and the two sisters realize that Angie has orchestrated the visit, inviting Marlene without her mother’s knowledge while telling Marlene that her mother was on board. Marlene admits that she was surprised Joyce wanted to see her, and Joyce replies that she didn’t. Joyce amends that she doesn’t mind seeing Marlene. She blames Marlene for never taking it upon herself to plan a visit. Angie enters in the dress, which fits this time. She loves it and won’t take it off. They confront Angie about planning Marlene’s visit without talking to Joyce, and Angie shrugs that she wanted to surprise them, noting that she last saw Marlene when she was nine. Kit enters without knocking as if she’s at home. Joyce introduces Kit to Marlene, but Kit is only interested in demanding that Angie come out and play. She rejects chocolate and hates the perfume. Angie tells her she isn’t going out. Kit says hello to Marlene and leaves.
Joyce explains that Kit is the only other child in the neighborhood, and she’s like Angie’s little sister, adding that Angie is good with younger kids. Marlene asks Angie if she wants to grow up to work with kids, but Joyce replies that Angie has no thoughts or plans for her future, and that Angie isn’t as smart as Marlene. Marlene produces a bottle of whisky from her bag. Joyce protests at first, but then asks for a small glass. Marlene points out that they both got drunk after their father’s funeral, which Joyce denies. Marlene asks about their mother, whom Joyce sees every week. Angie remembers her grandfather taking her out of the tub in a towel, which surprises Marlene, whose memories of her father don’t include caretaking. They gossip about some of the townspeople they both knew. One woman went to Canada, and another was murdered by her husband for having an affair. Angie wonders excitedly if Marlene remembers her ninth birthday party, which she says she does. Marlene asks about Angie’s father, surprised to learn that he left three years ago. Joyce argues that Marlene was off in America, and Angie runs off to fetch the postcard Marlene sent her. Joyce asserts that Marlene probably gets in and out of relationships all the time without telling her about it.
Angie returns and asks Marlene to take her to America next time she goes, announcing that she wants to be an American. Joyce decides it’s Angie’s bedtime. Angie wants to stay up, but it’s Sunday night, and she has school in the morning. Finally, Angie agrees to go, but she has something secret that she wants to show Marlene, and Marlene agrees to go and see it when Angie has finished getting ready for bed. Joyce offers her bed to Marlene, but she assures her that the couch is fine. Marlene tells Joyce she could have left the town, but Joyce doesn’t see how. Marlene insists that she would have left if she wanted to leave. Marlene wants to get drunk. Angie calls her name, and Marlene goes to her room. When she returns, Joyce asks about the secret, although she already knows that it’s a notebook about the “secret society she has with Kit” (77). Marlene thinks it’s clever, but Joyce thinks it’s ridiculous that Angie spends so much time writing in that notebook while she fails at school. She has been relegated to remedial classes for the last two years. Joyce complains about Marlene visiting on a Sunday night. Marlene tells Joyce that she got into town much earlier but went to see their mother.
Marlene calls their mother’s life “fucking awful” and a “fucking waste” (78), and Joyce accuses her of simply leaving her to deal with their parents. Marlene tells her to stop visiting their mother every week if it’s such a burden, but Joyce feels responsible for her. Marlene didn’t want to marry a small-town husband who would control and abuse her. Joyce spits, “I don’t know how you could leave your own child” (79). Marlene retorts that Joyce was happy enough to take her because she couldn’t have children of her own. Joyce argues that Marlene benefited from leaving Angie by advancing her career. Marlene insists that she could have taken Angie and had both motherhood and a career, referencing a very successful businesswoman who breastfeeds her kids in the boardroom and pays for private childcare. Joyce points out that Marlene was 17, not a high-powered businesswoman. Joyce reproaches, “For someone so clever you was the most stupid, get yourself pregnant, not go to the doctor, not tell” (80). Joyce and Marlene argue about whether Marlene should have “got rid of it” (80), although at the time Joyce was glad Marlene didn’t abort. Marlene offers threateningly to take Angie now if Joyce wishes she wasn’t born.
Joyce tells Marlene that she did get pregnant when Angie was only six months old. But she miscarried because of the stress of caring for Angie, and she blames Marlene. Marlene tells her that she’s had two abortions and offers to go into detail but immediately adds that she isn’t going to talk about blood and gynecology. Joyce states, “Just stop trying to get Angie off of me” (81). Marlene complains that Joyce has been digging at her for not visiting in six years, but it seems like she wants at least another six years before her next visit. Joyce agrees angrily that six years would be fine. Marlene starts to cry. Joyce softens and tries to cheer her up, but Marlene says it feels good to cry. They laugh. Marlene tells Joyce that she’s done a good job with Angie, and Joyce says she understands why Marlene would want to get out of their town. Marlene asks about Angie’s father leaving, and Joyce tells her that he was a serial cheater (with much younger women) who tried to control her. He doesn’t pay child support or have any relationship with Angie. Joyce says, “I don’t think he even likes her” (82). Marlene tells her sister that Angie’s father had attempted to kiss her once, but she thought “he looked like a fish” (82). Joyce did love him at one point, but only for about three years. She hasn’t really dated since he left, but Joyce muses that enough of her friends’ husbands have shown up sniffing around to make her decide to stay single.
Marlene doesn’t understand why Joyce works four cleaning jobs but won’t take child support from her. Joyce says it doesn’t have to make sense to Marlene, because it makes sense to Joyce. Joyce asks about Marlene’s love life, and Marlene says a lot of men like having a successful woman on their arm as a status symbol, but in the end, they aren’t interested in long-term unless she is willing to be domesticated. Marlene is more interested in adventurousness. She proclaims, “I think the eighties are going to be stupendous” (83). Joyce remarks that they likely will be—for Marlene. Marlene talks about her hope that Margaret Thatcher will fix the economy and get the country back on track. Joyce is irked at Marlene’s support of Thatcher and suggests that Marlene stop talking about politics. But the conversation continues anyway. Marlene is pleased by their first female Prime Minister, but Joyce accuses Marlene of being someone who would vote for Hitler if he had been a woman. Marlene retorts that Joyce is just repeating what their father used to say. They talk about their mother’s “wasted life” (84), and Joyce insists that their father had a terrible life too, working like an animal. Marlene argues that he spent all their money on alcohol and abused their mother, blaming him for their poverty.
Marlene hates the town and got away as soon as she could. Joyce hates rich people, especially the rich people she cleans for, asserting that Marlene would be embarrassed of her if she showed up at her office. Marlene praises US president Ronald Reagan and asserts that class isn’t real: “Anyone can do anything if they’ve got what it takes. […] If they’re stupid or lazy or frightened, I’m not going to help them get a job, why should I?” (86) Joyce points out that Angie is “stupid, lazy, and frightened” (86). Marlene dismisses this, stating that Angie will be all right, and Joyce is just too hard on her. Joyce replies, “I don’t expect so, no. I expect her children will say what a wasted life she had” (86). Marlene accuses Joyce of having an “us vs. them” attitude, and Joyce agrees that she does, and that she and Angie are the “us” while Marlene is a “them” (86). Marlene tries to clear the air, stating that the two sisters are still friends, but Joyce replies, “I don’t think so, no” (87). Joyce says good night and exits. Marlene has another drink. Angie enters, looking for her mother, but Marlene tells her she went to bed. Angie says, “Frightening” (87). Marlene tries to console her and asks if she had a nightmare and what it was about, but Angie just repeats, “Frightening” (87).
The play begins with Marlene’s dream or fantasy about women from history, and it ends with Angie’s nightmare, presumably about what is to come. This movement from dream to nightmare closes the circle of the play, concluding its vision of The Patriarchy across History. Churchill’s inspiration for the play was the 1979 election of Margaret Thatcher as the first woman to serve as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. Thatcher was the head of the Conservative Party, and Marlene is an ardent supporter not only of Thatcher personally but of the hyper-capitalist ideology that was then ascendant in both the UK and the US. In Act III, Marlene argues that poverty is a result of personal weakness, that the poor and working class are simply too “stupid, lazy, and frightened” to succeed (86). Like Thatcher and Reagan, she ignores or discounts as irrelevant all structural barriers to economic advancement, believing in a fantasy economy in which everyone competes on a level playing field and the best man (or woman) wins. Meanwhile, the play’s audience has seen in Act II how Marlene helps to prop up those structural barriers in her own work. When Angie comes downstairs later and says simply, “Frightening,” the word echoes Marlene’s earlier description of the poor as “stupid, lazy, and frightened.” Joyce has argued that she and Angie and people like them will inevitably be victimized by the rise of Marlene’s neoliberal ideology, and in that context Angie’s cryptic utterance sounds like a prophecy.
The conversation in Act III dredges up tensions and resentments that have simmered between these three women—between the two sisters and between mother and daughter—for years. In doing so, it raises profound questions about Pregnancy and Stolen Motherhood and about Feminism, Women, and Work. Marlene believes that because she has made her fortune, anyone should be able to do it, and if they can’t it’s no one’s fault but their own. Meanwhile she actively cuts other women off from opportunities, believing that their family lives preclude professional success or that they simply don’t have what it takes. She fails to consider the massive leg up her sister gave her by adopting Angie, freeing her from the burden of teenage motherhood. Like Pope Joan, Marlene became pregnant outside of socially sanctioned circumstances and was too afraid to tell anyone or to see a doctor, so she pretended it wasn’t happening until it was too late. Both women were separated from their children by social structures that would not allow them to be what they wanted to be and be mothers at the same time. But unlike Pope Joan, who gave birth in the street and was stoned to death for it, Marlene was given a second chance. In return, Marlene stopped coming to visit her family, and she hasn’t seen Angie in six years. When Angie shows up at the agency a year later, Marlene is clearly unhappy to see her. At the end of the play, with Joyce in bed, Marlene is forced to fill in as Angie’s parent, and she has nothing to offer her.
Angie has been clamoring for her birth mother’s affection, treating the material gifts Marlene has brought as a substitute for love and affection. The interactions between Angie and Joyce in Act II offer a partial explanation for Angie’s desperate identification with her “aunt”: the stress of Joyce’s life leads her to speak quite cruelly to her adopted daughter at times, and watching this, it’s easy to imagine why the teen might long for a different mother—one whose life, seen from the outside, looks easier and happier. In the final scene, Joyce redeems those earlier moments. When she replies to Marlene’s callous dismissal of the working class as “stupid, lazy, and frightened” by saying that Angie is “stupid, lazy, and frightened,” she doesn’t mean it as an insult, but as a powerful indictment of Marlene’s ideology, which has led her to turn her back on her own daughter. Even if Angie is all those things, Joyce implies, she still deserves a good life.
In the play’s last moment, Angie reaches for a connection with her aunt, whom she hopes but does not know is in fact her birth mother. Briefly, the question is open as to whether Marlene will reach back. But the structure of the play, with its inverted chronology, precludes this hope. The encounter in Act III occurred a year in the past. In the present, Marlene is having dinner with imaginary friends, celebrating her promotion and trying to subtly get rid of her birth daughter when she shows up unannounced. This suggests that Marlene did not respond to her daughter’s efforts to connect with her, did not learn anything, and the future for women navigating feminism continues to be “frightening” (87).
By Caryl Churchill