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The Maids
Solange and Claire are two housemaids who construct elaborate sadomasochistic rituals when their mistress (Madame) is away. The focus of their role-playing is the murder of Madame and they take turns portraying both sides of the power divide. Their deliberate pace and devotion to detail guarantees that they always fail to actualize their fantasies by ceremoniously "killing" Madame at the ritual's dénouement.
43 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 1947
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About the author
Jean Genet
193 books1,231 followersJean Genet was a French novelist, playwright, poet, essayist, and political activist. In his early life he was a vagabond and petty criminal, but he later became a writer and playwright. His work, much of it considered scandalous when it first appeared, is now placed among the classics of modern literature and has been translated and performed throughout the world.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 264 reviews
October 9, 2021
Gosh this is an exciting book! I wasn't sure if I'd got the full impact of it - being as it had far less curse words than is normal for Genet, also no sodomy, torture or peculiar sex acts and only a little strangulation and implied bdsm - so I got the film. 'The Maids' starring Vivian Merchant and the genius-actress turned self-important politician, Glenda Jackson, confirmed that other than extreme wordiness and the aforesaid minor bit of strangulation which hardly counts, this was quite unlike Our Lady of the Flowers or Querelle of Brest.
Incest, lesbianism and murder were all implied but this was a play of words and ideas and more powerful and less loathsome for that. This isn't to imply that loathsomeness isn't enjoyable - I don't mind hating a wicked heroine or despicable hero or experiencing the vicarious disgust at his or her actions or even some absolutely vile bdsm scenes - but none of the three characters in The Maids really descends quite that low on the scale of despicability.
If you like William Burroughs and loved Naked Lunch you will probably like this but it might not be extreme enough. Definitely enjoyable though from excellent use of language.
Note: If you haven't read Naked Lunch or Our Lady of the Flowers, you missed out on a niche of real literature/erotica. Erotic? not for me but if the Marquis de Sade's writings turn you on, these might too (they aren't so excessive and creatively violent as, say Justine though).
May 2019 Review rewritten because I felt like it. This is the sort of thing John Waters of the loathsome but thoroughly enjoyable movie, Pink Flamingos might have done if he'd been of an intellectual bent.
Incest, lesbianism and murder were all implied but this was a play of words and ideas and more powerful and less loathsome for that. This isn't to imply that loathsomeness isn't enjoyable - I don't mind hating a wicked heroine or despicable hero or experiencing the vicarious disgust at his or her actions or even some absolutely vile bdsm scenes - but none of the three characters in The Maids really descends quite that low on the scale of despicability.
If you like William Burroughs and loved Naked Lunch you will probably like this but it might not be extreme enough. Definitely enjoyable though from excellent use of language.
Note: If you haven't read Naked Lunch or Our Lady of the Flowers, you missed out on a niche of real literature/erotica. Erotic? not for me but if the Marquis de Sade's writings turn you on, these might too (they aren't so excessive and creatively violent as, say Justine though).
May 2019 Review rewritten because I felt like it. This is the sort of thing John Waters of the loathsome but thoroughly enjoyable movie, Pink Flamingos might have done if he'd been of an intellectual bent.
September 10, 2016
گر دستم رسد بر چرخ گردون / از او پرسم که این چین است و آن چون
یکی را میدهی صد ناز و نعمت / یکی را نان جو آلوده در خون
باباطاهر
نمایشنامهی دیگری در مورد فقر و ثروت؛ و حقارتی که طبقه فرودست از تماشای زرق و برق طبقات مرفه جامعه متحمل می شود. دو خواهر که کُلفت اند در آرزوی چنین زندگی، بارها نقش بازی می کنند و کلفت بودنشان را برای ساعاتی فراموش می کنند. شبها وقتی خانمشان برای شب نشینی های مخصوص اعیان بیرون می رود؛ هربار یکی جای خانم را می گیرد؛ لباسش را می پوشد و آرایش می کند و زیورآلاتش را به کار می برد. آن دیگری هم کلفتش می شود
تنها تفریح آنان این بازی است و در نقش آن غرق می شوند. و کم کم این فکر به ذهنشان خطور می کند که خانم را سر به نیست کنند
اساس این نمایشنامه بر هویت و بیگانه شدن از آنست. آرزوی خواهران تبدیل شدن به زنی است که او هم از خانم بودنش خسته است و هر لحظه آماده است این زندگی را ترک کند و بخاطر "آقا" تا سیبری برود و رنج بکشد
بی رحمی ذاتی انسان در سرتاسر نمایشنامه موج می زند. با آنکه خانم به دو خواهر محبت هم می کند ولی هیچگاه آنها را بیشتر از یک خدمتکار نمی بیند. خواهران هم تنها از خانمشان متنفر نیستند، آنان از یکدیگر نیز بیزارند
وقتی آدم هم زیباست و هم ثروتمند، خوب بودن و شیرین بودن برایش خیلی آسان است! ولی کلفت بودن و خوب بودن! دلخوشی یک کلفت حرکتی است که وقت رُفت و روب و ظرفشویی می کند
یکی را میدهی صد ناز و نعمت / یکی را نان جو آلوده در خون
باباطاهر
نمایشنامهی دیگری در مورد فقر و ثروت؛ و حقارتی که طبقه فرودست از تماشای زرق و برق طبقات مرفه جامعه متحمل می شود. دو خواهر که کُلفت اند در آرزوی چنین زندگی، بارها نقش بازی می کنند و کلفت بودنشان را برای ساعاتی فراموش می کنند. شبها وقتی خانمشان برای شب نشینی های مخصوص اعیان بیرون می رود؛ هربار یکی جای خانم را می گیرد؛ لباسش را می پوشد و آرایش می کند و زیورآلاتش را به کار می برد. آن دیگری هم کلفتش می شود
تنها تفریح آنان این بازی است و در نقش آن غرق می شوند. و کم کم این فکر به ذهنشان خطور می کند که خانم را سر به نیست کنند
اساس این نمایشنامه بر هویت و بیگانه شدن از آنست. آرزوی خواهران تبدیل شدن به زنی است که او هم از خانم بودنش خسته است و هر لحظه آماده است این زندگی را ترک کند و بخاطر "آقا" تا سیبری برود و رنج بکشد
بی رحمی ذاتی انسان در سرتاسر نمایشنامه موج می زند. با آنکه خانم به دو خواهر محبت هم می کند ولی هیچگاه آنها را بیشتر از یک خدمتکار نمی بیند. خواهران هم تنها از خانمشان متنفر نیستند، آنان از یکدیگر نیز بیزارند
وقتی آدم هم زیباست و هم ثروتمند، خوب بودن و شیرین بودن برایش خیلی آسان است! ولی کلفت بودن و خوب بودن! دلخوشی یک کلفت حرکتی است که وقت رُفت و روب و ظرفشویی می کند
February 26, 2023
کلفتها یک اثر محاسبهشده است…
سانتبه سانت…
کلمهبه کلمه…
ثانیه به ثانیه…
یک نمایشنامه تخریبگر…
که نخواندنش آن دنیا یک *پوئن منفی محسوب میشود…
و چه بسا که چوب در آستین کسی کنند که کلفتها را نخوانده است…
پنج ستاره و نان پدر و شیر مادر حلالت ژان ژنه:)
سانتبه سانت…
کلمهبه کلمه…
ثانیه به ثانیه…
یک نمایشنامه تخریبگر…
که نخواندنش آن دنیا یک *پوئن منفی محسوب میشود…
و چه بسا که چوب در آستین کسی کنند که کلفتها را نخوانده است…
پنج ستاره و نان پدر و شیر مادر حلالت ژان ژنه:)
February 20, 2022
One of my Goodreads friends wrote this beautiful answer to my challenging question.
I asked "Tell me about the song that kept you alive when you felt like nothing else could save you."
So!
I hope you enjoy reading that answer as much as I do.
( In this waking nightmare where all dreams come true, you searched for control. A way to pull through. When you were in love you left him in tears. To smother your furies and banish your fears. But in darkness they came, through stormy black seas they raided these shores. Do you still hear his screams? And now that you're home he's so far away. They've taken his soul. To these gods you cannot pray. They can break you, but not your promise. Even death won't keep you apart. Through this darkness you will find him. In your sword still beats a heart. You fought for love unspoiled by your darkness within. You fought for your dreams, now there is no way to win. In the head of his corpse lies the seat of his soul. So you must carry his vessel to bring him back home)
I asked "Tell me about the song that kept you alive when you felt like nothing else could save you."
So!
I hope you enjoy reading that answer as much as I do.
( In this waking nightmare where all dreams come true, you searched for control. A way to pull through. When you were in love you left him in tears. To smother your furies and banish your fears. But in darkness they came, through stormy black seas they raided these shores. Do you still hear his screams? And now that you're home he's so far away. They've taken his soul. To these gods you cannot pray. They can break you, but not your promise. Even death won't keep you apart. Through this darkness you will find him. In your sword still beats a heart. You fought for love unspoiled by your darkness within. You fought for your dreams, now there is no way to win. In the head of his corpse lies the seat of his soul. So you must carry his vessel to bring him back home)
July 22, 2018
ژان ژنه خودش به سایکودراما احتیاج داره و شاید در این نمایشنامه هم همچین کاری کرده.
سارتر به زیبایی در مقدمه شخصیت ژنه رو تحلیل می کنه و کاملا خواننده رو با زوایای پنهان نمایشنامه آشنا می کنه.
مثل اینجا که میگه : کلفت ها دو تا هستند زیرا ژنه خود دوتاست، خود و دیگری.
یا: همه ی پرسناژهای ژنه عاشقانه از هم بیزارند.
در کل لذت بردم از خوندن ش و پایان زیبا.
واقعیت چیزی است در حال ذوب شدن، وقتی می خواهیم لمسش کنیم محو می شود.
سارتر به زیبایی در مقدمه شخصیت ژنه رو تحلیل می کنه و کاملا خواننده رو با زوایای پنهان نمایشنامه آشنا می کنه.
مثل اینجا که میگه : کلفت ها دو تا هستند زیرا ژنه خود دوتاست، خود و دیگری.
یا: همه ی پرسناژهای ژنه عاشقانه از هم بیزارند.
در کل لذت بردم از خوندن ش و پایان زیبا.
واقعیت چیزی است در حال ذوب شدن، وقتی می خواهیم لمسش کنیم محو می شود.
September 20, 2016
Συγκλονιστικό, σπαρακτικό, συνταρακτικό.
Η ένταση του κειμένου με έπιασε εντελώς απροετοίμαστη.
Εισχώρησε υπόγεια και ξέσπασε με δάκρυα.. ασταμάτητα.
Εντός ημερών θα αναφερθώ και πιο αναλυτικά στο έργο.
Η ένταση του κειμένου με έπιασε εντελώς απροετοίμαστη.
Εισχώρησε υπόγεια και ξέσπασε με δάκρυα.. ασταμάτητα.
Εντός ημερών θα αναφερθώ και πιο αναλυτικά στο έργο.
March 20, 2019
کلفت ها نمایشنامه ای از ژان ژنه،نویسنده ی فرانسویه..ژنه این نمایشنامه رو با الهام از زندگی کریستین و لی کلفتهای فرانسوی که صاحبکارهاشون رو به طرز فجیعی به قتل رسونده بودند نوشت.
لی و کریستین خواهرانی وابسته به هم بودند که چهارده ساعت در روز کار میکردند و فقط نصف روز در هفته مرخصی داشتند.
لی و کریستین خواهرانی وابسته به هم بودند که چهارده ساعت در روز کار میکردند و فقط نصف روز در هفته مرخصی داشتند.
April 18, 2021
کلر: [...] باید خندید.
[قهقهه میزند.]
... وگرنه مصیبت ما را از پنجره به بیرون پرت میکند.
[قهقهه میزند.]
... وگرنه مصیبت ما را از پنجره به بیرون پرت میکند.
April 26, 2017
"وقتی آدم هم زیباست و هم ثروتمند خوب بودن و شیرین بودن برایش خیلی آسان است. ولی کلفت ها...."
September 30, 2014
When slaves love one another, it's not love.
It's not in the stage directions that the maids Solange and Claire are to be played by men. Jean-Paul Sarte writes all about Jean Genet's dramatic instruction in the forward. If I had known that then I doubt I would have thought about it it anyway. I don't really care about the idea that the artifice of theater would push the playing a role to kabuki glamour meets waking up to the haggard demon you were lustily embracing moments before. Or something grandiose about truth and false. Genet doesn't want me to forget it's a mirage turned to sand in the mouth. But I keep coming back to the guy because it's how to make another world to live in while you have to be in this one. I know it's fake and I believe in the wish to be real. When I make wishes in fountains it is always the same to be happy. Part of me feels that'll never come true because I admitted it now. I am attracted to that want and spite of Jean Genet. The suicide of all you ever had, and it wasn't enough anyway. To hell with what the director wants.
Danger is my halo, Claire; and you, you dwell in darkness....
The maids lie through their teeth, they lie in their made and made unmade beds, lying in that kind of wet dream that's cut off its penis to spite its face when allowed for too long. The wet spot of drool shoulders a crying fit of headache. They admit more than once that they take too long with the preliminaries. They don't want to have nothing to cry about. I could see their insides with an emptiness for no other dream to fill. The show is Claire is their mistress who just might backhand love them. Solange chooses the role of her sister, another maid. She can see the real Claire grovel and rabies like a dog. I had the feeling that Claire saw Solange in the beast as much as she saw herself. There's no pity. Claire is the younger sister. A fellow inmate of don'ts and dont's, her best position in life is if someone saw them and remarked it was a pity the younger one couldn't.... If a milkman were around he'd mean it when he hit her up. Somewhere a catty divorcee is probably putting her friend down that though they are both single, at least she'd been married once. If you've ever suspected another girl of enjoying feeling attractive standing next to your dull self? I thought it was like that with them. It isn't enough to have more of a chance that comes to nothing (the rest of the world that must look like it has more is still there to rub the salt in). Their Madame wouldn't be the star on Claire's stage if it had been. When all they had was each other, when they are unabridged by Claire's sinking slower than Solange's head already underground? I was impressed by this clouding any life they suffocated together. Solange had the head start by getting used the shit of life first. I personally feel sorrier for Solange that her world must have accepted it for her before they'd accept it for Claire by virtue of this. It's just plain shitty, really. But then it's also true that knowing the "rules" (or what my mom liked to call "life's tough all over") must've been a hard knock to take. If Solange had all the answers and it was the type that wasn't worth having a job or looking for a job. A dirty slum or another's home to hollow out for smoke. There's no truth to be had here. There is the truth of when you find out that something you thought was forgiven (if you wanted to think it, or someone led you to believe it) is back from the dead. Or something you had experienced to be different than the skeleton in the closet dancing to accusations. That kind of thing. The ugly cry and from the belly of self serving pity and justification. Who cares if it is true or not because the ground beneath you is some place else. The sisters have a bottomless pit of fire to cast their bitchy spells against one another. The Madame doesn't get the chance to have her real say upon them for sending her figment to prison. He returns somewhere, she must go somewhere with him. It becomes true when Claire feeds herself (or Solange feeds her. I would cry knowing the trial will tell only one into the wasted) the poison they always fail to climax their (revenge? blood and glory? It's my pity party and I'll kill if I want to) act on. Big bad gesticulations and sheep's shouting. Watch yourself in the front row. Solange will have to have tears for herself one of these days, when they come for her. When she goes to prison she could touch herself on the sacrificial bed she's made and I just know she'll never get the truth. It wasn't a good play they played. I know I'll never see this dramatized.... But if I did, I hope the players get it right in how they reveal their cards. That's the best thing about The Maids. That fucked up way people come up with shit to be true and they don't even want it to be any other way. I don't know how or why it got to be something that looked so good to them inside. It's so ugly how Solange wants Claire to be hated and petted by their mistress. She can't be herself unless it is an epithet. How they drag it to bed that the other secretly hates them. I'm sorrier that they had been doing this for such a long time. When you have that kind of will that's the only line there is. Make that attracted and repulsed. To have the tools and make it a tombstone....
It's not in the stage directions that the maids Solange and Claire are to be played by men. Jean-Paul Sarte writes all about Jean Genet's dramatic instruction in the forward. If I had known that then I doubt I would have thought about it it anyway. I don't really care about the idea that the artifice of theater would push the playing a role to kabuki glamour meets waking up to the haggard demon you were lustily embracing moments before. Or something grandiose about truth and false. Genet doesn't want me to forget it's a mirage turned to sand in the mouth. But I keep coming back to the guy because it's how to make another world to live in while you have to be in this one. I know it's fake and I believe in the wish to be real. When I make wishes in fountains it is always the same to be happy. Part of me feels that'll never come true because I admitted it now. I am attracted to that want and spite of Jean Genet. The suicide of all you ever had, and it wasn't enough anyway. To hell with what the director wants.
Danger is my halo, Claire; and you, you dwell in darkness....
The maids lie through their teeth, they lie in their made and made unmade beds, lying in that kind of wet dream that's cut off its penis to spite its face when allowed for too long. The wet spot of drool shoulders a crying fit of headache. They admit more than once that they take too long with the preliminaries. They don't want to have nothing to cry about. I could see their insides with an emptiness for no other dream to fill. The show is Claire is their mistress who just might backhand love them. Solange chooses the role of her sister, another maid. She can see the real Claire grovel and rabies like a dog. I had the feeling that Claire saw Solange in the beast as much as she saw herself. There's no pity. Claire is the younger sister. A fellow inmate of don'ts and dont's, her best position in life is if someone saw them and remarked it was a pity the younger one couldn't.... If a milkman were around he'd mean it when he hit her up. Somewhere a catty divorcee is probably putting her friend down that though they are both single, at least she'd been married once. If you've ever suspected another girl of enjoying feeling attractive standing next to your dull self? I thought it was like that with them. It isn't enough to have more of a chance that comes to nothing (the rest of the world that must look like it has more is still there to rub the salt in). Their Madame wouldn't be the star on Claire's stage if it had been. When all they had was each other, when they are unabridged by Claire's sinking slower than Solange's head already underground? I was impressed by this clouding any life they suffocated together. Solange had the head start by getting used the shit of life first. I personally feel sorrier for Solange that her world must have accepted it for her before they'd accept it for Claire by virtue of this. It's just plain shitty, really. But then it's also true that knowing the "rules" (or what my mom liked to call "life's tough all over") must've been a hard knock to take. If Solange had all the answers and it was the type that wasn't worth having a job or looking for a job. A dirty slum or another's home to hollow out for smoke. There's no truth to be had here. There is the truth of when you find out that something you thought was forgiven (if you wanted to think it, or someone led you to believe it) is back from the dead. Or something you had experienced to be different than the skeleton in the closet dancing to accusations. That kind of thing. The ugly cry and from the belly of self serving pity and justification. Who cares if it is true or not because the ground beneath you is some place else. The sisters have a bottomless pit of fire to cast their bitchy spells against one another. The Madame doesn't get the chance to have her real say upon them for sending her figment to prison. He returns somewhere, she must go somewhere with him. It becomes true when Claire feeds herself (or Solange feeds her. I would cry knowing the trial will tell only one into the wasted) the poison they always fail to climax their (revenge? blood and glory? It's my pity party and I'll kill if I want to) act on. Big bad gesticulations and sheep's shouting. Watch yourself in the front row. Solange will have to have tears for herself one of these days, when they come for her. When she goes to prison she could touch herself on the sacrificial bed she's made and I just know she'll never get the truth. It wasn't a good play they played. I know I'll never see this dramatized.... But if I did, I hope the players get it right in how they reveal their cards. That's the best thing about The Maids. That fucked up way people come up with shit to be true and they don't even want it to be any other way. I don't know how or why it got to be something that looked so good to them inside. It's so ugly how Solange wants Claire to be hated and petted by their mistress. She can't be herself unless it is an epithet. How they drag it to bed that the other secretly hates them. I'm sorrier that they had been doing this for such a long time. When you have that kind of will that's the only line there is. Make that attracted and repulsed. To have the tools and make it a tombstone....
February 10, 2024
Il faut rire. (Elles rient aux éclats.) Sinon le tragique va nous faire nous envoler par la fenêtre.
February 20, 2022
الگویی از نمایش در نمایش، اجرا در اجرا، نقش در نقش؛
بوسیلهی رابطهی دو قطبی و عشقی-نفرتی دو خواهر مستخدم با بانویشان.
این دو خواهر که ظاهرا بانو، احساساتش و سلیقهاش را میستایند و در برابر او از شگفتی و تحسین لبریزند، اما چون به خلوت میروند آن کار دیگر میکنند.
چنان فکر و ذکرشان درگیر آرزوی تجربه زندگی آسوده و تجملی و زیستن در نقش بانویشان شده که درصدد تصمیم به قتل و تصاحب اموالش برآیند. رویای مال و منال قلبهایشان را سیاه و چشمهایشان را کور کرده است.
به گمان من، اصولا تنفر این دو خواهر از بانویشان بی اساس بود. گمان میکنم این تنفر بیشتر از روی حسادت به جایگاه و تمول این فرد بوده است تا نسبت به شخصیتش. برای همین موقع نقش بازی کردنها، خواهران تا میتوانستند بانو را منفور و زشت سیرت نشان میدادند و تخریبش میکردند تا این حس حقارت خود را سرپوش بگذارند و بدبختی خود را توجیه کنند. در حالیکه بانوی واقعی، خود بسیار هم ساده، شیرین و با ملاحظه به نظر میرسید. به عبارت دیگر: گربه دستش به گوشت نمیرسه میگه پیف پیف بو میده!
بوسیلهی رابطهی دو قطبی و عشقی-نفرتی دو خواهر مستخدم با بانویشان.
این دو خواهر که ظاهرا بانو، احساساتش و سلیقهاش را میستایند و در برابر او از شگفتی و تحسین لبریزند، اما چون به خلوت میروند آن کار دیگر میکنند.
چنان فکر و ذکرشان درگیر آرزوی تجربه زندگی آسوده و تجملی و زیستن در نقش بانویشان شده که درصدد تصمیم به قتل و تصاحب اموالش برآیند. رویای مال و منال قلبهایشان را سیاه و چشمهایشان را کور کرده است.
به گمان من، اصولا تنفر این دو خواهر از بانویشان بی اساس بود. گمان میکنم این تنفر بیشتر از روی حسادت به جایگاه و تمول این فرد بوده است تا نسبت به شخصیتش. برای همین موقع نقش بازی کردنها، خواهران تا میتوانستند بانو را منفور و زشت سیرت نشان میدادند و تخریبش میکردند تا این حس حقارت خود را سرپوش بگذارند و بدبختی خود را توجیه کنند. در حالیکه بانوی واقعی، خود بسیار هم ساده، شیرین و با ملاحظه به نظر میرسید. به عبارت دیگر: گربه دستش به گوشت نمیرسه میگه پیف پیف بو میده!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 14, 2015
Une plongée dans un univers noir, morbide et fleuri. J'aime Genet parce qu'il parle le langage de l'angoisse.
Après avoir lu les Bonnes, j'ai fait un rêve que j'avais déjà fait il y a quelques années, après avoir lu Crime et châtiment.
On devrait inscrire Genet dans les programmes scolaires, et Michaux aussi. On devrait faire lire aux enfants la folie et la drogue. Le monde en serait plus beau, car il deviendrait moins manichéen.
Après avoir lu les Bonnes, j'ai fait un rêve que j'avais déjà fait il y a quelques années, après avoir lu Crime et châtiment.
On devrait inscrire Genet dans les programmes scolaires, et Michaux aussi. On devrait faire lire aux enfants la folie et la drogue. Le monde en serait plus beau, car il deviendrait moins manichéen.
February 11, 2022
La beauté de mon crime devait racheter la pauvreté de mon chagrin...
Thank you, Paris, for making me know Jean Genet.
I’m still shocked by the last lines!
[Spoil?!]:
And yet I think the 3 roles were just on the surface but they were actually and only 1 person. For me, no other conclusion could explain the bizarre ending :/
P.S.
And such ressemblance to Sartre’s works! But as Paris put it, much much better!
July 28, 2025
me lo leyó luna en la playa del tirón
May 5, 2022
An amazing read (and if someone is keeping notes and wondering about why I sat on about 50 % for so long, that was only because there's no way I'm taking my tender copy in luggage while travelling). This one is the one that explains why so many from Sartre and forward raves about 'Saint' Genet. It's probably the most captivating and engaging play manuscript you will ever read.
September 4, 2018
هنوط هم متوجه درگیریهای ذهنی دو کلفت نشدم.
آیا حقارتی که حس میکردند اینقدر در جلد خانم جا به جاشون میکرد؟
هنوز نتونستم بپذیرم که آقا و خانم از پشت قضیه مطلع شدن.
و شاید این هدر رفتِ حقارت باشه که در پرده آخر میبینیم
چیزی جز حقارت پذیرفته شده روی پرده ندیدم
آیا حقارتی که حس میکردند اینقدر در جلد خانم جا به جاشون میکرد؟
هنوز نتونستم بپذیرم که آقا و خانم از پشت قضیه مطلع شدن.
و شاید این هدر رفتِ حقارت باشه که در پرده آخر میبینیم
چیزی جز حقارت پذیرفته شده روی پرده ندیدم
January 7, 2022
یکجور بدبخت داریم و یکجور بدبختخو. بدبختخویان بهدنبال بدبختیاند و بهآن میچسبند و گویی از آن لذت میبرند. اما انتهای این دریوزهگرایی چیست؟ یا مغروق شدن در آن، یا انفجاری ناگهانی برای شکستن زنجیرهای خودبافته. این نمایشنامه، روایتیست از بدبختخویی.
December 25, 2017
دوستی در بردگی دوستی نیست.
August 24, 2023
Das Treiben der Zofen, wenn die gnädige Frau aus dem Haus ist und dieses Mal endet es mit dem Selbstmord von Claire. Vorbereitung für eine Aufführung am Volkstheater.
February 1, 2025
A psychological study of power/religion. Maids/believers perform a ceremony rooted in their fantasies, self-disgust and attachment and hatred towards mistress/god.
December 18, 2022
Δύο υπηρέτριες, η Κλερ κι η Σολάνζ, σχεδιάζουν να δολοφονήσουν την κυρία τους, αφού έχουν ήδη οδηγήσει τον κύριό τους στη φυλακή. Δεν υπάρχει κάποιος προφανής λόγος γι' αυτό που συμβαίνει στο τέλος κι αυτό καθιστά το έργο αρκετά αινιγματικό. Ίσως μπορεί να το δει κάποιος μόνο από κοινωνική σκοπιά.
September 25, 2020
I have always had problems with Jean Genet. I have failed to finish ‘Lady Of the Flowers’ twice, and ‘The Thief’s journal’ once, and had all but given up on him. ‘ The Maids', a play of just a couple of hours, made me feel that maybe I should try harder. It’s a powerful tale of two maids performing sadomasochistic rituals when their mistress is out of the house. A great statement on the relationship and feelings between the poor and the privileged.
October 25, 2019
چگونه به اجرا بردن نمایشنامۀ کلفتها شاید بتوان گفت به قدر خود متن نمایشنامه حائز اهمّیّت است. نمایشنامه داستان دو کلفت (که دو خواهر هم هستند.) را روایت میکند که برای یک زن و شوهر متموّل کار میکنند. از خودبیگانی، استثمار شدن، قتل و خیانت مهمترین محورهای نمایشنامۀ ژنه را تشکیل میدهند. به نظرم نمایشنامه اگر با کنشهای بیشتری همراه بود میتوانست نمایشنامۀ بهتری باشد.
February 12, 2017
outstanding piece of art!!
February 18, 2022
This translation seems inaccurate and unfaithful. I spotted many omissions and a few additions.
Yet, I didn't find anything against it online!
Yet, I didn't find anything against it online!
February 14, 2025
si absolutamente si si claro
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January 25, 2025Karşılaştığım en garip oyun metinlerinden biriydi. Ayberk Erkay’ın çevirisi sebebiyle dikkatimi çeken bir kitap bu. Bildiğim kadarıyla bu sene Moda Sahnesi’nde oynanıyor. Skobumda olmayan “toplum düşmanı” Jean Genet ile tanıştığıma memnun muyum emin değilim ama Ayberk Erkay’ın Sartre’ın Genet üzerine düşüncelerinden alıntı yaparak hazırladığı önsözü okuduğuma ve yazarın provokatif tarzının varlığından haberdar olduğuma memnunum.
March 23, 2024
suzanne a du sang sur les mains pour m avoir ramenee voir une piece avec un homme deshabille sur scene
May 20, 2025
Just look at these flowers open in my honor! Claire, am I not a lovelier Virgin?
You speak of widowhood and deny me the white gown–the mourning of queens. You're unaware of that, Claire–
By the devil! He's carrying me away in his fragrant arms. He's lifting me up, I leave the ground, I'm off...
You see straight through me. You divine my thoughts.
You think you can deprive me forever of the beauty of the sky, that you can choose your perfumes and powders, your nail-polish and silk and velvet and lace, and deprive me of them?
Madame thought she was protected by her barricade of flowers, saved by some special destiny,
Now, here are the two maids, the faithful servants! They're standing in front of you. Despise them. Look more beautiful.–We no longer fear you. We're merged, enveloped in our fumes, in our revels, in our hatred of you. The mold is setting. We're taking shape, Madame.
Her kindness, is it? It's easy to be kind, and smiling, and sweet–ah! that sweetness of hers!–when you're beautiful and rich. But what if you're only a maid? The best you can do is to give yourself airs while you're doing the cleaning or washing up. You twirl a feather duster like a fan. You make fancy gestures with the dishcloth.
Nothing comes after. I'm sick and tired of kneeling in pews. In church I'd have had the red velvet of abbesses or the stone of the penitents, but my bearing at least would have been noble. Look, just look at how she suffers. How she suffers in beauty. Grief transfigures her doesn't it? Beautifies her? When she learned that her lover was a thief, she stood up to the police. She exulted. Now she is forlorn and splendid, supported under each arm by two devoted servants whose hearts bleed to see her grief. Did you see it? Her grief sparkling with the glint of her jewels, with the stain of her gowns, in the glow of the chandelier! Claire, I wanted to make up for the poverty of my grief by the splendor of my crime. Afterward, I'd have set fire to the lot.
She'll corrupt us with her sweetness.
I lost my strength. In order to get at her throat, I'd have had to lift the sheet from her heaving bosom.
[Suddenly calm] I'm capable of anything, you know.
I want to help you. I want to comfort you, but I know I disgust you. I'm repulsive to you. And I know it because you disgust me. When slaves love one another, it's not love.
And all that remains of them to float about Madame's airy corpse is the delicate perfume of the holy maidens which they were in secret. We are beautiful, joyous, drunk, and free!
You speak of widowhood and deny me the white gown–the mourning of queens. You're unaware of that, Claire–
By the devil! He's carrying me away in his fragrant arms. He's lifting me up, I leave the ground, I'm off...
You see straight through me. You divine my thoughts.
You think you can deprive me forever of the beauty of the sky, that you can choose your perfumes and powders, your nail-polish and silk and velvet and lace, and deprive me of them?
Madame thought she was protected by her barricade of flowers, saved by some special destiny,
Now, here are the two maids, the faithful servants! They're standing in front of you. Despise them. Look more beautiful.–We no longer fear you. We're merged, enveloped in our fumes, in our revels, in our hatred of you. The mold is setting. We're taking shape, Madame.
Her kindness, is it? It's easy to be kind, and smiling, and sweet–ah! that sweetness of hers!–when you're beautiful and rich. But what if you're only a maid? The best you can do is to give yourself airs while you're doing the cleaning or washing up. You twirl a feather duster like a fan. You make fancy gestures with the dishcloth.
Nothing comes after. I'm sick and tired of kneeling in pews. In church I'd have had the red velvet of abbesses or the stone of the penitents, but my bearing at least would have been noble. Look, just look at how she suffers. How she suffers in beauty. Grief transfigures her doesn't it? Beautifies her? When she learned that her lover was a thief, she stood up to the police. She exulted. Now she is forlorn and splendid, supported under each arm by two devoted servants whose hearts bleed to see her grief. Did you see it? Her grief sparkling with the glint of her jewels, with the stain of her gowns, in the glow of the chandelier! Claire, I wanted to make up for the poverty of my grief by the splendor of my crime. Afterward, I'd have set fire to the lot.
She'll corrupt us with her sweetness.
I lost my strength. In order to get at her throat, I'd have had to lift the sheet from her heaving bosom.
[Suddenly calm] I'm capable of anything, you know.
I want to help you. I want to comfort you, but I know I disgust you. I'm repulsive to you. And I know it because you disgust me. When slaves love one another, it's not love.
And all that remains of them to float about Madame's airy corpse is the delicate perfume of the holy maidens which they were in secret. We are beautiful, joyous, drunk, and free!
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