The Conformist. City life scenes in four acts

Katya. Enough! (stops playing, pours more alcohol from the bottle, takes her glass and hands the second one to Orlov) Where did we stop?

Orlov (paces the office) I love my haters and enemies: they motivate me with their negative energy. When I feel low and want to cry and roll on the floor in a throw of despair… what do I think about?

Veselov. Really, what?

Orlov. I remember how many people will be happy if I fall. «Yes, Orlov’s lost it!» I tell them in my mind: «Sod off, you bunch of losers!».

I get up and keep on. It’s easier for me to do a lot of things in defiance, not in the name of something. I have done my best deeds when I was depressed, when I had problems, when I was disappointed and nothing seemed to go right!

When I’m happy and satisfied I have no motivation to go ahead. A diamond isn’t made lying on a sofa, it needs a lot of pressure. That’s why I thank the ill-wishers that stand in my way, I give them my biggest smile which you can read as «To hell with you, bitch!» (He throws the rest of the drink from his glass into the face of an imaginary opponent)

Veselov. You’re a real terrorist! (Laughs)

Orlov. I’m rather a conformer. I’ve learnt to survive in the modern world. I’ve adapted. Unlike my father, I’ve got accustomed. I’ve made my choice and I’m ready to be responsible for it.

Now I’ll feel okay in any regime, be it capitalism, communism or even Queen Catherine. I’ve even started going to church… It’s fashionable now. By the way, I met the governor there, all cats are grey.

Everyone only cares about their belly, willing to stuff it fuller, to snatch a better share, and settle one’s children comfy and nice, as if it were our mission to gourmandize and grow capital.

Just look who’s at the wheel now! Grandchildren of those who managed to snatch a bite.

I’m not the hero of my time, but its product.

If my environment is criminal, then my obedience to it becomes a crime, too. That’s the price of conformism.

Silence

Katya. I split up with Nikita yesterday. Do you remember the cheerleaders you introduced us to a week ago? He cheated on me with one of them, the red-haired one. I think her name’s Sveta.

Orlov. Congratulations, it was high time. (Sits on a chair)

Katya. Do you think so?

Orlov. We’re old acquaintances, and I can see very well that you’re tired of his cheating and binging.

Katya. At least he didn’t use his fists.

Orlov. Katya! Why do you estimate yourself so low? You aren’t stupid.

Katya. I’m afraid I’ll always be single. I’m already twenty-three.

Veselov. Oh, the young today! Most girls only pay attention to a man’s appearance, his money and his sweet words… All of this is rubbish! What really matters is how a man treats you, what he does for you and to what extent you can rely on him.

And if he’s a good-looking douche, who behaves like a homeless cat – today he’s here, tomorrow he has another girl, and the next day – yet another… Let him go to hell and make space for a normal adequate reliable guy!

Orlov. Amen.

Katya. And how do I recognise that adequate and reliable one? At first they all say the same. They’re all generous and nice. One offers to move to Italy together, another one promises to divorce his wife… but no one proposes.

Veselov. If you can’t choose one of two men, it means either is bad. Not in their own right, they could be wonderful people, but they don’t suit you and you don’t need them.

When you really are in love with a man, you don’t think and don’t choose. There’s only him – the hero of your love. He’s like a light in your life! He’s your only purpose! And you think he’s the best man in the world even if he’s a complete loser, bastard or scoundrel. You are dizzy and you drop things. You are ready to run away with him anywhere, be it snow, heat, rain – you don’t care…

That’s why the sooner you stop choosing the earlier you can find a man who’s your match.

Mitya comes in. Katya drops the glass.

Mitya. Guess why psychiatrists are so polite with their patients?

Veselov. So why?

Mitya. They know that their patients are not subject to criminal responsibility and consequently have nothing to lose.

Orlov laughs.

Katya. Mitya, I’m glad you are here. Why are you in such disorder? Where’s Inna?

Mitya. We parted friends.

Orlov stands up and pours himself another drink.

Veselov. That’s the news. Does Aglaya know? It might get alright.

Katya. Now we’re fellows in misery. Nikita dumped me… let’s drink. (She hands Mitya a glass).

Orlov. Everything happens for the best. Acorns were good till bread was found. Keep your chin up, Mitya!

Mitya. That’s easy for you to say, Nikolay. You’ve always chosen what to do. I remember when your mother insisted on your training as a diplomat. You agreed to make her calm. But after the studies you refused the job. You paint pictures. But my father’s a general. So I have to march all my life.

Orlov. Mitya, my dear fellow! My father was a talented alcoholic! And my mother worries I’ll follow his example, but in vain. I loved my father and he’s the best anti-model in my life. But I’ll never become a poor drunken artist, because I have learnt to survive in this society and its harsh climate.

The success in life most often comes to people who are determined, able to make decisions and carry responsibility for them. It concerns both work and private life.

I can’t help feeling amazed at such douches as you, who have never lifted a finger but keep moaning about how their life’s bad, their little money and bad relationships with parents, their unhappy love.

But who’s to blame? Parents? School? Government? School friends? Nobody’s to blame but you. That’s because you do nothing… just start, Mitya, and something will necessarily change.

Mitya. Do you love her?

Orlov. Who?

Mitya. Inna Lebedeva.

Orlov. I don’t want to discuss it with you. Veselov, let’s have a smoke.

Veselov and Orlov go out to the balcomy. Orlov shuts the door firmly.

Veselov. I wasn’t mistaken then. (He lights a cigarette)