THE

EIFFEL
TOWER
WEDDING
PARTY
^

translated by
DUDLEY FITTS

PREFACE
Every work of the poetic order contains what G id ^ in
his preface to Paludes, so aptly calls Gods share. ^ i s
Share, which eludes the poet himself, can surprise him.
Such and such a phrase or gesture, which originally meant
no more to him than the third dimension means to a paint
er, has a hidden meaning that each person will interpret in
his own way. The true Symbol is never planned: it emerges
by itself, so loh ^ s ~ th e bizarre, the unreal, do~^ ^ n t g r j n t o
fliA

rp r* K n n T n ff

In I fairyfand, the fairies do not appear, iR ey walk in

visibly there. To mortal eyes they can appear only on the
terra firma of everyday. The unsophisticated mind is more
likely than the others to see the fairies, for it will not op
pose to the marvelous the resistance of the hardheaded.
I might almost say that the Chief Electrician, with his re
flections, has often illuminated a piece for me.
I have been reading in Antoines memoirs of the scan
dal provoked by the presence on the stage of real quarters
of beef and a fountain of real water. But now, thanks to
Antoine, w e have come to such a pass that the audience is
displeased if real objects are not used on the stage, an
if it is not subjected to a plot precisely as complex pre
cisely as tedious, as those from which the theater should
serve as a distraction.**
Writing of OrphSe in 1926, Antoine called it a studio-farce,
not even funny (sic).

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T H E E I F F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G PA R TY

The Eiffel Tower W edding Party, because of its candor,

was first of all mistaken for a bit of esoteric writing. The
mysterious inspires in the public a sort of fear. Here, I re
nounce mystery. I illuminate everything, I underline every
thing. Sunday vacuity, human livestock, ready-made ex
pressions, dissociation of ideas into flesh and bone, the fierce
cruelty of childhood, the miraculous poetry of daily life:
these are my play, so w ell understood by the young musi
cians who composed the score for it.
A remark of the Photographers might do w ell for my
epigraph: Since these mysteries are beyond me, lets pre
tend that I arranged them all the time. This is our motto,
par excellence. Your prig always finds a last refuge in re
sponsibility. Thus, for example, he will go on fighting a war
after the end has been reached.
In W edding Party, Gods share is considerable. To the
right and left of the scene the human phonographs (like
the ancient Chorus, like the com pere and commere of our
music-hall stage), describe, without the least literature,
the absurd action which is unfolded, danced, and panto
mimed between them. I say absurd because instead of
trying to keep this side of the absurdity of life, to lessen
it, to arrange it as w e arrange the story of an incident in
which w e played an uncomplimentary part, I accentuate it,
I push it forward, I try to paint more truly than the truth.
f ~ l! h e poet ought to disengage objects and ideas from their
veiling mists; he ought to display them suddenly, so naked
ly and so quickly that they are scarcely recognizable. It is
then that they strike us with their youth, as though they had
never become official dotard^.
* This is the case with commonplaces old, powerful,
generally esteemed after the manner of masterpieces, but
whose original beauty, because of long use, no longer sur
prises us.
in my play I rejuvenate the commonplace. It is my conem to present it in suciTaTigKTfhat it recaptures its teens
A generation devoted to obscurity, to jaded realism, does
not give way before the shrug of a shoulder. I know that

T H E E I F F E L T O W E R AVEDDING PA R T Y

155

my text has too obvious an air, that it is too recdahly w rit

ten, like the alphabets in school. But arent w e in school?
Arent w e still deciphering the elementary symbols?
The young music finds itself in an analogous position.
It employs a clarity, a simplicity, a good humor, that are
new. The ingenuous ear is deceived; it seems to be listen
ing to a cafe orchestra, but it is as mistaken as would be
an eye which could not distinguish between a loud garish
material and the same material copied by Ingres.
In W edding Party w e employ all the popular resources
that France w ill have none of at home, but w ill approve
whenever a musician, native or foreign, exploits them out
side.
Do you think, for example, that a Russian can hear the
Petrouchka just as w e do? In addition to the charms of that
musical masterpiece he finds there his childhood, his Sun
days in Petrograd, the lullabies of nurses.
W hy should I deny myself this double pleasure? I assure
you that the orchestra of The Eiffel Tower W edding Party
moves me more than any number of Russian or Spanish
dances. It is not a question of honor rolls. I think I have
sufiiciently exalted Russian, German, and Spanish musi
cians (to say nothing of Negro orchestras) to permit my
self this cri du coeur.
f ^ J t is curious to observe the French everywhere repulsing
bitterly whatever is truly French and embracing unreserved\ ly the local alien spirit. It is curious, too, that in the case of
W edding Party an audience at a dress rehearsal should
have been outraged by a classic blockhead character whose
presence in the wedding cortege was neither more nor less
. controversial than the presence of the commonplaces in the

U2?tEvery living work of art has its own ballyhoo, and only
this is seen by those who stay outside. Now in the case of
new work, this first impression so shocks, irritates, angers,
the spectator that he will not enter. He is repelled from its
true nature by its face, by the unfamiliar outward appear-

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T H E E I F F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G PA R TY

ance which distracts^ him, as would a clown grimacing at

the door. It is this phenomenon which deceives even those
critics who are least slaves to convention. They forget that
they are at a performance which must be followed just
as attentively as a popular success. They think that they
are watching a sort of street carnival. A conscientious critic
who would never think of writing, The Duchess kisses the
Steward instead of The Steward presents a letter to the
Duchess in his review of one of these legitimate dramas,
will not hesitate, reviewing W edding Party, to make the
Bicycle Girl or the Collector come out of the camera which
is absurd enough. Not the organized absurdity, the desir
able, the good absurdity, but simply the absurd. And he
can never see the difference. Alone among the critics, M.
Bidou explained to the readers of D ebats that my piece
was a composition of active wit. **
/"^ e action of my piece is pictorial, though the text it/self is not. The fact is that I am trying to substitute a theater poetry for the usual poetry in the theater. Poetry
, in the theater is a delicate lace, invisible at any considerI able distance. Theater poetry should be a coarse lace, a
lace of rigging, a ship upon, the sea. W eddin g Party can be
^ as terrifying as a drop of poetry under the microscope. The
-scenes fit together like the words of a poem.

The secret of theatrical success is this: you must set a

decoy at the door so that part of your audience can amuse
themselves there while the rest are inside. Shakspere, Moliere, and the profound Chaplin know this well.
After the hisses, confusion, and applause which marked
the first performance of my piece by the Swedish dancers
at the Champs-Elys^es, I should have set it down as a failure
if the audience of the informed had not given place to the
real public. This pubhc always gives me a hearing.
Only he could write of Orphee that it was a meditation on
death.

T H E E IF F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G PA R T Y

157

After the performance a lady complained to me that the

piece did not carry beyond the footlights. Seeing that I was
astonished by her criticism (for masks and megaphones
are more effective beyond the footlights than ordinary voices
and make-up), she went on to explain that she so great
ly admired the ceiling of Maurice Denis, who decorated
the theater, that she had engaged the highest seats in the
house which necessarily lessened her command of what
was going on on the stage.
I cite this as an example of the criticism offered by that
little group with neither intelligence nor sympathy, the lit
tle group that the newspapers call the elite.
Moreover, our senses are so unused to reacting together
that the critics even my publishers found it hard to
believe that this complicated machinery did not entail two or
three pages of text. This faulty perspective must also be
blamed upon tbe absence of the development of ideas: a
development thatjjthe ear customarily perceives, since the
symbolic drama and the drama d these. (Jarrys Ubu and
Apollinaires Les mamelles de Tiresias are both symbolic
dramas and dramas d thdse).
The diction of my human phonographs, Pierre Bertin and
Marcel Herrand, also comes in for its share in the general
misunderstanding: a diction black as ink, immense and
clear as the lettering of a billboard. Here, surprisingly
enough, are actors who are content to follow the text, rath
er than force the text to follow them: still another lyric
novelty to which the audience is not accustomed!
Let us touch on the accusation of buffoonery, which has
often been hurled at me by our age an age preoccupied
with the false-sublime, an age (lets admit it) still in love
with Wagner.
If Cold means Night, and Hot means Light, Lukewarm
means Dusk. Ghosts love the dusk. The crowd loves the luke
warm. Very well: aside from the fact that the buffoon at
titude brings with it a clarity that is ill-suited to ghosts

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T H E E I F F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G PA R TY

(by ghosts I,mean w hat the crowd calls poems ); aside

from the fact that Moliere proved himself more of a poet
in his Pourceaugnac and h e bourgeois gentilhomme than
in his poetic dramas; the buffoon attitude is the only one
that permits certain audacities.
People come to the theater for relaxation. It is easy to
amuse them with th e dancing dolls, to tickle them with the
candies that one gives recalcitrant children to make them
take their medicine. But once the medicine is taken, w e
shall pass on to other exercises.
Thanks to people like Sergei Diaghilev and Rolf de
Mare, little by little there is coming into being in France a
theatrical form which is n ot properly the Ballet, and which
has no place in the Opera, the Opera-Comique, or the fash
ionable theaters. The future is indicated on the fringe of
these conventional forms. Our friend Lugne-Poe has admit
ted this with considerable apprehension in one of his arti
cles. This new form, more consonant vwlth the modern spirit,
remains still an unexplored land, rich in possibilities.
Revolution which flings the doors wide open for the ex
perimentalists! The new generation will continue to experi
ment with forms in which the fairy, the dance, acrobatics,
pantomime, drama, satire, music, and the spoken word all
combine to produce a novel genre: and unaided, they will
stage pieces which the oflicial artists w ill take for studiofarces, pieces which for all that will be no less the plastic
expression of poetry.
The mixture of good humor and bad humor in Paris cre
ates the most vital atmosphere in the world. Sergei Diaghi
lev told me one day that he had felt nothing like it in any
other capital. Hisses and cheers; nasty reviews, with here
and there an unexpected approval: and three years later
the scoffers are applauding and cannot remember having
once hissed. Such is the history of my Parade, and of any
other piece that alters the rules of the game.
f
A theatrical piece ought to be written, mounted, cos
tumed, furnished with musical accompaniment, played, and

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T H E E I F F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G PA R T Y

danced, all by one and the same man. Such a umversal

athlete does not exist, and the next best thing is to, rep ace
the individual by what is most like an individual: a tnendly group.

There are many cliques, but few such groups. I am for

tunate enough to belong to one made up of various young
musicians, poets, and painters. The Eiffel Tow er W eddtng
Party, taken as a whole, is the manifesto of a poetic spin
40 which I am proud to have contributed already a great
deal.
Thanks to Jean Victor-Hugo, my characters, instead of
being (as is so often the case in the theater) too
true to life to b e able to support the mass of ligliting an
ddcor, were constructed, corrected, built up, raised by ev
ery device of artistry to a likeness on an epic scale. I hnd
in lean Victor-Hugo a certain atavism of monstrous reality.
Thanks to Irene Lagut, our Eiffel Tower suggests forgetme-nots and lace valentines.

j- t

Georges Aurics Overture, The Fourteenth of J u y

marching bands whose music blares out at the ^ reet ^rner
and moves away - calls up the strong enchantment of the
sidewalk, of the popular fair, of red-festooned
like guillotines, where drums and trumpets make the ste
ographers and the sailors and the shipping clerks dance
And his ritoumelles accompany the pantomime ]ust as a
circus band repeats a motif during an acrobatic act.
The same atmosphere breathes through Mffhaud s Weditw March, through Germaine Tailleferres Quadrille arid
W altz of the Telegrams, through Poulencs The
Sveech and The TrouviUe Bathing Beauty. Arthur Honegge
amused himself by making fun of what
phers gravely call; m u sic . It is unnecessary to add that they
all fell into the trap. Hardly had the first notes of die Fneral March sounded when all those long ears
"P
in grave attention. Not one noticed that that march w
beautiful as a sarcasm, written with a taste,
J^traord nary feeling for appositeness: not one of the critics, a

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T H E E I F F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G ^A R T Y

whom praised the _piece,j:BcognizeH the Waltz in Faust

whjch served as its hassi
How can I express my gratitude to MM. Rolf de Mare
and Borlin? The former with his generous insight, the latter
with his modesty, made it possible for me to crystallize a
formula with which I had been experimenting in Parade and
in L e Boeuf sur le toit.
JE A N COCTEAU

1922
Les Maries de la Tour Eiffel was first played on June 8,
1921, by Rolf de Mares Swedish Ballet Company. The chor
eography was by Jean Cocteau and Jean Borhn, the decor
by Irene Lagut, and the costumes and masks by Jean VictorHugo. The musical program was as follows:
Overture
W edding March (entrance)
The Generals Speech
The Trouville Bathing Beauty
The Massacre (fugue)
W altz of the Radiograms
Funeral March
Quadrille
W edding March (exit)

Georges Auric
Darius Milhaud
Francis Poulenc
Francis Poulenc
Darius Milhaud
Germaine Tailleferre
Arthur Honegger
Germaine Tailleferre
Darius Milhaud

During the course of the action there were three ritournelles by Georges Auric.

CHARACTERS
PH O N O G R A PH I
PH O N O G R A PH I I
T H E OSTRICH
T H E H U N T ER
T H E M A N A G ER O F T H E E IF F E L TO W ER

T H E PH O TO G RA PH ER
T H E BRIDE
T H E BRIDEGROOM
T H E M O T H E R -IN -L A W

T H E F A T H E R -IN -L A W
T H E GEN ERAL
T W O BRIDESMAIDS
T W O USHERS
T H E CYCLIST
T H E CH ILD
T H E TROUVILLE BATHING BEAUTY
T H E L IO N
T H E COLLECTOR O F PA INTINGS
T H E ART DEALER
FIV E RADIOGRAMS

DfiCOR
The first platform of the EifiEel Tower. The backdrop rep
resents a birds-eye view of Paris. Upstage, right, a camera
at eye level: the black funnel forms a corridor extending
to the wings, and the camera front opens like a door to
permit the entrances and exits of the characters. Downstage,
right and left, half hidden by the proscenium arch, two
actors costumed as Phonographs: their bodies are the cab
inets, their mouths the horns. It is these Phonographs which
comment on the action and recite the lines of the charac
ters. They should speak very loudly and quickly, pronounc
ing each syllable distinctly. The action is simultaneous with
the comments of the Phonographs.

THE felFFEL TOWER W EDDING PARTY

The curtain rises w ith the drum-roll which ends the Over
ture. Em pty set.
PHON O

You are on the first platform of the Eiffel

I.

Tower.
PH O N O H . Look! An ostrich. She crosses the stage. She
goes off. And heres the Hunter. Hes tracking the ostrich.
He looks up. H e sees something. He raises his gun. H e fires.

Heavens! A radiogram.

PH O N O I.

A large blue radiogram falls from above.

The shot wakes up the Manager of the Eiffel
Tower. H e appears.
PH O N O H .

PH O N O

I.

Hey, Mac, where do you think you are

hunting?
PH O N O H . I was trailing an ostrich. I thought I saw it
on the cables of the Eiffel Tower.
PH O N O I.
PH O N O

And you kill me a radiogram!

n. I didnt mean to do it.

PH O N O I.

End of

th e

dialogue.

PH O N O H . Here comes the Photographer of the Eiffel

Tower. He speaks. What is he saying?
PH O N O I . You havent seen an ostrich around here any
where, have you?
PH O N O

n. I most certainly have! Im trailing it right

now!
PH O N O I. W ell, its like this: my cameras out of order.
Usually when I say, Steady, now, watch for the httle bird
a little bird comes out. This morning I said to a lady.

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THE E IF F E L TOW ER WEDDING ^ ^ R T Y

Watch ,for the little

and out came an ostrich. So
now I m looking for the ostrich in order to make it get
back into the camera.
PHONO n. Ladies and Gentlemen, the situation is getting
complicated, for the Manager of the Eiffel Tower has sud
denly discovered that the radiogram was addressed to him.
PHONO I. He opens it.
PH O N O n . M A N A G ER E IF F E L TO W ER STOP ARRIVE W EDDING
BREAKFAST PLEASE RESERVE T A B LE.
PH O N O I.

But this radiogram is dead.

PH O N O n. Its precisely because its dead that everyone

can understand it.
PH O N O 1. Quick quick! W eve just got time to set the ta
ble. I remit your fine. I appoint you Waiter of the Eiffel
Tower. Photographer, on your job!

PHONO n . They set the table.

PH O N O I.

W edding March.

PHONO n. W edding Procession.

W edding march. The Phonographs announce the m em

bers of the w edding party, who enter in pairs, strutting like
trained dogs in an animal act.
PHONO I. The b r i d e , s w e e t as a la m b .
PHONO n. The father-in-law, rich as Croesus.
PHONO I. The bridegroom, handsome as a matinee idol.
PH O N O II.

The mother-in-law, snide as a wooden nickel.

PHONO I. The General, d u m b as a goose.

PHONO H. Look at him. He thinks hes on his mare Mira-

belle.
PHONO I. The ushers, strong as Turks.

T H E E IF F E L TOW EB WEDDING PARTY

IDD

PHONO H. The bridesmaids,'fresh asjoses.

PH O N O I. The manager of the Eiffel Tower is doing them
the honors of the Eiffel Tower. He is giving them a birdseye view of Paris.
PH O N O H .

It makes me dizzy!

The Hunter and th e Manager bring in a table w ith plates

painted on it. The cloth sw eeps the ground,
PHONO I. The General is shouting, Sit down. Sit down!
The wedding party sits down to the table.
PHONO n. All on one side of the table, so that the audi
ence can see them.
PHONO i. The General rises.
PH O N O H .

Speech by the General.

The Generals discourse is orchestral. H e m erely gesticu

lates.
PHONO I. Everyone is deeply moved.
PHONO H. After his speech the General describes a mirage

that deceived him in Africa.

PHONO I. I was eating pie with the D ue dAumale. The
pie was covered with wasps. W e tried to brush them away.
No luck. W ell, those wasps were tigers.
PH O N O H .

What?

PHONO I. Tigers. Thousands of them, all stalking a r o u n d .

A mirage had projected their image, much reduced, o n to
our pie, and w e took them for wasps.
PHONO H. You would never think he was seventy-four

years old.
PHONO I. But who is this charming bicycle girl in shorts?

Enter Cyclist in shorts. She dismounts.

THE E IF F E L TOW ER WEDDING PARTY

166
PH O N O 1I5

girVs voice. Excuse me, gentlem en.. -.

PH O N O I.

Madam, in what way can w e be of service to

you?
PH O N O H .

Am I on the right road for Chatou?

PH O N O I.

You are, Madam. You have only to follow the

car .line.
It is the General who answers her, for he has

PH O N O H .

just recognized her as a mirage.

The Cyclist remounts and rides off.
PH O N O I . Ladies and Gentlemen, w e have just been for
tunate enough to witness a mirage. They often occur on the
EifEel Tower. That bicycle girl is actually pedaling along
the Ghatou road.
PH O N O H . After this instructive interlude the Photog
rapher appears. What is he saying?
PH O N O I. I am the Photographer of the Eiffel Tower and
I am going to take your picture.
PHO NOS I AND I I.
PH O N O I .

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Arrange yourselves in a group.

The party groups itself behind the table.

PH O N O n. You are wondering what has happened to the
ostrich hunter and the Manager of the Eiffel Tower. The
Hunter is trailing the ostrich up through every platform. The
manager is trailing the Hunter, and running the Eiffel Tow
er. This is no sinecure. The Eiffel Tower is a world, like
Notre-Dame. It is the Notre-Dame of the Left Bank.
PH O N O I .

It is the Queen of Paris.

PH O N O H .

It was the Queen of Paris. Now it is a telegraph

girl.
PH O N O I.

After all, a mans got to live!

T H E E IF F E L . T O W E R W ED D IN G PA R T Y

167

PHON O n. Now, dont move. Look pleasant, please. Look

straight into the camera. A little birds going to come out.

A Trouville Bathing Beauty comes out of the camera.

She wears a one-piece bathing suit, carries a butterfly net
in which there is a heart, and has a picnic basket slung
over one shoulder. C olored lights. The w eddin g party lifts
its hands in admiration.
PH O N O I .

Oh the pretty postcard!

Dance of the Bathing Beauty.

But the Photographer does not share the delight of the
wedding party. This is the second time today that his cam
era has gone back on him. He is trying to make the Trouville
Bathing Beauty get back into the camera.
PH O N O H . Finally the Bathing Beauty goes back into the
camera. The Photographer has convinced her that it is a

bathhouse.
I End of the dance. The photographer throws a bathrobe
(over the girls shoulders; she exits into the camera, skippip^, throwing kisses.
PH O N O S I AND

n. Bravo! Bravo! Bis! Bis! Bis!

PH O N O I . If only I could tell beforehand what surmise

this crazy camera had in store for me, I should be able to
put on a show. As it is, dear Lord! - I shudder every time
I pronounce the fatal words. God knows w hat is coming
next! Since these mysteries are beyond me, le ts pretend
that I arranged them all the time.

He bows profoundly.
PH O N O S I AND H .

Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!

PH O N O H . Ladies and Gentlemen, in spite of my earnest

desire to please you one and all, I regret, that the lateness
of the hour makes it impossible for me to P^sent a secon^^
time that popular number, The Trouville Bathing Beauty.

16S

THE E IF F E L TOW ER WEDDING PARTY

PH O N O S I AND n .

Yesl Yes! Jfesi

P H O N O ir r h e Photographer is lying in order to save face

and at the same time make a hit. He looks at his watch.
Two oclock, and that ostrich hasnt come back yet!
PH O N O H. The Wedding party rearranges itself. Madam,
your left foot on one of the spurs. Sir, drape the veil over
the comer of your mustache. Perfect. Now, dont move.
One. Two. Three. Look straight into the camera. A little
birds going to come out.

He squeezes the bulb. A fat child, crowned w ith green

paper, comes out. Under its arm it carries some prize books
and a basket.
PH O N O I.

Hello, Mama.

PH O N O II.

Hello, Papa.

PH O N O I.

More perils of photography.

This child is the very image of the wedding

PH O N O II.

party.
PH O N O I.

And just listen to them!

PH O N O H .

H es the image of his mother.

PH O N O I.

Hes the image of his father.

Hes t h e

PH O N O II.
PH O N O I.

Hes the image o f his grandpa.

He has our mouth.

PH O N O H .
PH O N O I .

im a g e o f h is g ra n d m a .

He

has our

eyes.

n. My dear parents, on this auspicious occasion

accept my expressions of esteem and love.
PH O N O

PH O N O I .

The same sentiment from a different point of

view.
PH O N O H .

Accept my expressions of love and esteepi,.

T H E E IF F E L TOW ER WEDDING PARTY

He might have learne.(J a longer sentiment!

PH O N O I.
PH O N O

169

n. Accept my expressions of esteem and love.

PH O N O I.
PH O N O

He shall be a Captain.

n. Architect.
Boxer.

PH O N O I.

Poet.

PH O N O H .

President of the Republic.

PH O N O I.

A pretty little corpse for the next war.

PH O N O H .

What is he looking for in his basket?

PH O N O I .
PH O N O

n. Bullets.

PH O N O I. What does he want with bullets? It looks a s

though he were planning something naughty.
PH O N O
'

n. He is massacring the wedding party.

PH O N O I .

H e is massacring his own family to get some

macaroons.
The Child bombards the guests, who flee w ith screams
of terror.
PH O N O H .

Mercy!

PH O N O I .

When I think of the trouble it eost us to brmg

him up.
PH O N O H .
PH O N O I .
PH O N O
PH O N O
PH O N O

All the sacrifices w e made for him.

Wretch, I am your father!

n. Desist, for yet there is time!

I. W ill you have no pity on your grandparents?
n. W ill you show no respect for the Uniform?

PH O N O I.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

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T H E E I F F E L T O W E B W ED D IN G PA R TY

PHONO H. I forgive you.

p h o n o "I.

Be damned.

PHONO H. No bullets left.

PHONO I. The wedding party is massacred.
PHONO H. The Photographer is chasing the child about.
H e is threatening it with a whip. He is ordering it to get
back into the camera.
PHONO I. The child is dodging. He screams. H e stamps
his foot. He wants to hve his own hfe.
PHONO H. I want to live my own life! I want to live

my own life!
PHONO I. But what is this other noise?
PHONO II. The Manager of-the Eiffel Tower. What is he

saying?
PHONO I. A little less noise, please. Dont scare the radio

grams.
PHONO II. Papa! Papa! Look at the radiograms.
PHONO I. There are some big O nes.
PHONO H. The wedding party gets up again.
PHONO I. You
PHONO H. c o u ld h e a r
PHONO I. a
phono h .

p in

PHONO I. d r o p .
p h o n o h . The trapped radiograms fall onto the stage
and flutter about. The guests run after them and jump on
them.

T H E E I F F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G PA R T Y

171

PHON O I . Look, look. Ive .got one! Me too! Help, its

biting me! Hold it down, hold it down!
PHON O n. The radiograms are calming down. They draw
up in a line. The prettiest one steps forward and gives the
military salute.
PH O N O I , burlesque comedians voice. W ell well well!
And who are you?
PH O N O n. I am a wireless, and like my sister the stork
Ive come from N ew York.
PH O N O I , voice of a burlesque queen. Ah N ew York! City
of lovers and midday twilights!
PH O N O H .

Music, music!

Dance and exit of the Radiograms.

PH O N O I . Son-in-law, you can thank me for all this. Whose
idea was it to come to the Eiffel Tower? Whose idea was
it to have the wedding on July Fourteenth?

The child is stamping again.

PH O N O H .
PH O N O I.

Papa! Papa!

PH O N O H .

What is he saying?

PH O N O I .

I want to have my picture taken with the Gen

eral.
PH O N O II.

General, you wouldnt refuse our little Justin,

would you?
PH O N O I.

As y o u

lik e .

PH O N O H . Poor Photographer! Hes worried to death, but

he loads his camera again.
PH O N O 1. The child straddles the Generals saber and pre
tends to listen to the General, who pretends to read to him
out of a book by Jules Verne.

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THE E IF F E L TOW ER WEDDING J>ABTY

PH O N O H . Now, dont move. "Perfect. A little birds go

ing to come-out.

A Lion comes out.

PH O N O I. Heavens, a lion! The Photographer is hiding
behind his camera. All the guests are climbing up the cables
of the EifiEel Tower. The lion is glaring at the General, for
the General is the only one who has not moved. He is
speaking. What is he saying?
PH O N O II. No need to b e afraid. There can be no lions
on the Eiffel Tower. Therefore, this is a mirage, a simple
mirage. Mirages are the lies of the desert, so to speak. This
lion is really in Africa, just as the bicycle girl was on Ghatou road. The lion sees me, and I see the lion; but to each
other we are nothing more than projected reflections.
PH O N O I . To confound the unbelievers, the General is
approaching the Hon. The lion suddenly roars. The Gen
eral dodges, followed by the lion.
PH O N O n. The General disappears under the table. The
lion disappears after him.
PH O N O I. After a minute which seems a year, the lion
comes out from under the tablecloth.
PH O N O

n. Horror of horrors! Ahhhhhh!

PH O N O I .

What is he carrying in his jaws?

PH O N O n. A boot, with a spur. Having eaten the General,

the lion goes back into the camera.

Dirge.
PH O N O S I AND H .
PH O N O I.

Ahhhh! Ahhhh!

Poor General!

PH O N O H . He was so lighthearted, so eternally youthful!

Nothing would have amused him more than this death: he
would have been the first to chuckle over it.

T H E 5 IF F E L TOWER W E p p p i G PARTY

173

PHONO I. Funeral o f the*General.

Funeral march.
PHONO II. The father-in-law is pronouncing the eulogy.
What is he saying?
PHONO I. Farewell farewell old friend! Since first you
girded on the sword, you have given evidence of an intel
ligence far above your rank. Your end is worthy of your
career. W e have seen you brave the ferocious beast, care
less of danger, nay, unaware of its very existence; and flee
ing only when you began to understand at last that it did
exist. And so once more Farewell, or, better. Till w e meet
again: for your kind will be with us as long as there are
men upon the earth.
PHONO II. Three oclock, and that ostrich isnt back y e t!
PHONO I. She probably wanted to walk back.
PHONO II. That is stupid. Nothing is more fragile than os

trich plumes.
PHONO I. Attention! The Eiffel Tower W edding Party,
a quadrille, played by the band of the Garde Republicaine:
director, Par^s.

Quadrille.
PHONOS I AND H. Bravo! Bravo! ray for the Garde R^pub-

licaine!
PHONO II. Oof, what a dance!
PHONO I. Your arm.
PHONO n. Mister Photographer, you wouldnt turn down
a cup of champagne?
PHONO I. You are too kind. Im overcome.
PHONO II. When in Rome . . . But what does my
grandson want now?

174

T H E E I F F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G PA R T Y

PH O N O I. I want someone to buy- me some bread so I

feed the Eiffel Tower.
PH O N O

can

n. They sell it down below. I am not going down.

Wanna feed the Eiffel Tower!

PH O N O I.

PHONO H. They feed it only at certain hours. Thats w hy

its surrounded by wires.
Wanna feed the Eiffel Tower!

PH O N O I.
PH O N O H .

No, no, I

s a id

no!

PH O N O I. The guests are beginning to shout: here comes

the ostrich. She was hidden in the elevator all the time.
Now she is looking for another place to hide. And here comes
the Hunter. The Photographer wishes the ostrich would
take advantage of the camera box.
PH O N O H . Suddenly he remembers that to make an os
trich invisible all you have to do is hide its head.

He hides the ostrichs head under his hat. Just

PH O N O I .

in time!
The Ostrich walks about invisible, the h a t on its head.
Enter the Hunter.
Have any of you seen the ostrich?

PH O N O H .

PHO NOS I AND H .

PH O N O II.

No. W e have seen nothing.

Strange! I thought it jumped down onto the

platform.
PH O N O I.

It may have been a wave, and you took it for

an ostrich.
PH O N O H . No, the sea is calm. Well, I shall hide behind
this phonograph cabinet and wait for it.
PH O N O I.

No sooner said than done.

PH O N O H . The Photographer is approaching the ostrich

on tiptoe. What is he saying?

T H E E I F F E L T O W E R W ED D IN G P A R T Y

175

PH O N O I . Madam, youTiave not a minute to lose! He has

not recognized you in your veil. Make haste: I have called

a cab.
He opens the shutter of the camera. The os
trich disappears.
PH O N O H .

PH O N O I.

Saved, thank God!

PH O N O H . You can imagine the joy of the Photographer.

He is shouting for pure delight.
PH O N O I.

The guests are asking him why.

PH O N O H . Ladies and Gentlemen, at last I am able to

photograph you in peace. My camera was out of order, but
it is working now. Now, dont move!
PH O N O I. But who are these two gentlemen who have
come just in time to upset the Photographer again?
PH O N O H . Look, the wedding party and the Photogra
pher have frozen stiff. The guests are immobile. D o you
not find it a b i t . ..
PH O N O I.

A bit w edding cake?

A bit arty?

PH O N O H .
PH O N O I .

A bit Mona Lisa?

A bit O ld Master?

PH O N O H .

PH O N O I. The Modem Art Dealer and the Gollector of

Modem Paintings halt before the wedding party. What is
the dealer saying?
PH O N O H . I have brought you up here on the Eiffel
Tower so that you may be the first to see a unique piece:
The W edding Breakfast.
PH O N O I .

And the Collector replies:

PH O N O H .

I follow you blindly.

PH O N O I.

W ell, is it good, or is it not? It looks like a primi

tive.

176

THE E IF F E L TOWEH WEDDING PARTY

P H O N o n .W h o s e is .it?

*p h o n 6 I. What! W hose is it? Its one of Gods very latest

things!
PHONO n. Is it signed?
p h o n o I. God never signs But I ask you? is it paint
ed] And what texture! Observe the style, the nobility, the
joie de vivrel It might almost be a funeral.

PHONO n . I s e e a w e d d i n g p a r t y .
PHONO I. Then y o u see wrong. It is more than a wedding.
It is all weddings. It is more than all weddings. It is a
cathedral.
PHONO II. What do you want for it?
PHONO I. It is not for sale, except to the Louvre or you.
See here: you can have it at cost price.
PHONO H. The Dealer displays a huge placard.

The placard reads 10000000000.

PHONO I. W ill the collector let himself be convinced?
What is he saying?
PHONO H. I take The W eddin g Breakfast.

The Dealer turns the placard over. The reverse reads

SOLD in huge letters. H e places it against the w edding party.
PHONO I. The Dealer addresses the Photographer.
PHONO n. Make me a picture of that wedding party,
v(Tth the placard. I want to have it in all the American
magazines.
PHONO I. The Collector and the Dealer leave the EiflEel

Tower.
PHONO n. The Photographer is getting ready to take the
picture, but whats this! His camera is speaking to him.

T H E E IF F E L TOW ER WEDDING PARTY

PHON O I.

What is it saying?

T H E CA M ERA ,

in a distant voice. I w a n t . . . . I w a n t .-...

Speak out, sweet silver swan!

PH O N O H .

T H E CA M ERA.
PH O N O

177

I Want to give up the General.

n. He is perfectly capable of giving himself up.

PH O N O I . The General reappears. He is pale. One boot

is missing. After all, he comes from far away. H e will in
form them that he is returning from a mission about which
he must not speak. The wedding party is motionless. Head
lowered, the General crosses the platform and strikes a
modest pose among the rest.
PH O N O H . This will be a pleasant surprise for the Col
lector of masteipieces. In a masterpiece one is never through
discovering unexpected details.
PH O N O I . The Photographer turns away. H e finds the
wedding a bit stiff. If the wedding can reproach the Gen
eral for being alive, he in his turn can reproach the W ed
ding for letting itself be sold.

The Photographer is a man of feeling.

PH O N O H .
PH O N O I.

He speaks. What is he saying?

PH O N O H . Now, Ladies and Gentlemen, I am going to

count up to five. Look straight into the camera. A little
birds going to come out.
PH O N O I.

The machine is working.

PH O N O H .
PH O N O I.

dove!

Peace has been declared.

PH O N O H .

One.

The Bride and Bridegroom leave the group, cross the

stage, and exit into the camera.

178

T H E E IF F E L 'T O 'V p:R WEDDING PARTY

Two.'
Same business for th e Father-in-law and Mother-in-law.
Three.

'

Same business for the First Usher and Bridesmaid.

Four.
Same business for the Second Usher and Bridesmaid.
Five.
Same business for the General, alone, head hanging;
and for the Child, w ho leads him b y the hand.
PH O N O I. Enter the Manager of the EifEel Tower. He is
waving a megaphone.
PH O N O II.
PH O N O I.

Closing time! Closing time!

He goes out.

PH O N O n . Enter the Hunter. He is in a hurry. He rushes

up to the camera. What is the Photographer saying?
PH O N O I.
PH O N O H .
PH O N O I .

Where do you think youre going?

I want to make the last train.
The gate is closed.

j
*

PH O N O H . This is disgraceful. I shall complain ,to the

Minister of Railroads.

(
!

No fault of mine. That train,of yours there

she goes!

;
''

The camera starts to m ove to the left, its bellows stretching out after it like railway coaches. Through openings the
w edding guests can be seen, waving handkerchiefs; and,
underneath, feet in motion.

PH O N O I.

CURTAIN