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The Captive
Edouard Bourdet (1887-1945) was a French playwright. Controversy about the propriety of staging a New York production of his 1926 play La prisonniere [The Captive] was swept away by the "restrained though uncompromising tragedy" that resulted.
275 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1926
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
June 25, 2018
A 1926 French play that was a controversial hit in the United States due to its theme of female homosexuality. Irene De Montcel struggles to come to terms with her love for a woman in a patriarchal, heterosexual world. The story, while empathetic to Irene's plight, focuses largely on the implications for Jacques, the man who loves her and agrees to marry her in order to free her from her captivity. In the end, they both find themselves captives, struggling to free themselves from a loveless heterosexual marriage.
July 30, 2024
Rest In peace Irene, you would have cried while listening to Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan (and Madame d'Aiguines would have screamed it while thinking of Irene)
“It's like—a prison to which I must return captive, despite myself.”
“It is not only a man who may be dangerous to a woman... In some cases it can be another woman.”
“What kind of story is this?”
“The kind of story that often happens—regardless of what men think. The kind of story that people don't believe for the most part, or which makes them smile, half amused and half indulgent.”
“So I don't love you?”
“Of course you don't love me.”
“How do you expect me to know what your thoughts are? They're yours. They're no business of mine.”
“I'll do what I've decided to do… even if doing so shatters everything.”
“You whom I've always thought incapable of anything low or cheap. And here you are mixed up in the cheapest of all things—a lie!”
“If I lie, it's because I'm driven to it.”
“By whom?”
“By every one. There's no other course open to me.”
“[With despair]: I want so much to love you. [She bends over and sobs, her head on his breast.]”
“Understand this: they are not for us. They must be shunned, left alone. Don't make my mistake. Don't say, as I said in a situation almost like yours, don't say: "Oh, it's nothing but a sort of ardent friendship—an affectionate intimacy... nothing very serious. we know all about that sort of thing!” No! We don't know anything about it! We can't begin to know what it is. It's mysterious—terrible! Friendship, yes—that's the mask. Under cover of friendship a woman can enter any household, whenever and however she pleases—at any hour of the day—she can poison and pillage everything before the man whose home she destroys is even aware of what's happening to him. When finally he realizes things it's too late—he is alone! Alone in the face of a secret alliance of two beings who understand one another because they're alike, because they're of the same sex, because they're of a different planet than he, the stranger, the enemy! Ah! if a man tries to steal your woman you can defend yourself, you can fight him on even terms, you can smash his face in. But in this case—there's nothing to be done—but get out while you still have strength to do it! And that's what you've got to do!”
“She'd been ill a long time. She had just had a relapse. All that night she'd been delirious. It seems that she had asked for me several times.”
“It's love that's lacking, Irene; you long to love, just as I long to be loved.”
“She can never belong to you no matter how you try. They're not for us.”
“How beautiful!”
“[Quietly, without moving]: What's beautiful?”
“A woman!”
“You've no right to stop me from doing what I want.”
“After a moment, her eyes light on the vase which contains the violets; she is drawn over to them, looks at them, touches them delicately.”
“Perhaps I would learn to love you?”
“Afterwards, you mean? No, my dear…”
“But once you told me that I would.”
“Ah! Because at that time I thought that only your pride stood between us. I didn't know then all that separates us!”
“But when you will have cured me…”
“Do you really believe that I could?”
“Yes, if you're very kind, very indulgent, if you have a little patience.”
“But, you see I love you too much for that.”
“She is suffering probably, as the weak always do, struggling with a stronger nature until they give in.”
“A woman is always that (simple) the first time she's in love.”
“I need some one to watch me, to hold me back. Some one who has understood or guessed certain things—that I can't talk about, that I can never tell!”
“There's only one way to love, you see, and one way to suffer, It's the same formula for everybody—and in that respect she and I have been in the same boat for some time. Only she hasn't got used to it yet—and I have.
“I'm not thinking of killing myself. It takes courage to die like that. And I haven't even any courage left… I have nothing left…”
“Do you believe people change?”
“They learn a little.”
“[Smiling] : While traveling?”
“Yes, while traveling.”
“What do they learn?”
“To love the people of their homeland, the people who speak their language. It's tiresome to talk when one isn't understood. One wearies of it.”
“[He starts to kiss her on the mouth. As Irene beholds his face filled with longing, she makes an abrupt movement of aversion.]”
“[This time it is she who offers her lips to him. Then, her nerves giving way, she lets her head fall on his shoulder, struggles with herself a moment, and breaks into tears.]”
“I am afraid of myself.”
“[Irene slowly turns and looks at the violets. She walks toward them, lifts them from the box, caresses them. Her eyes become fixed and hard. She turns toward the door through which Jaques went out. She looks at the flowers again, seems to hesitate, then abruptly gets her hat, and rushes out to her room.]”
“It's like—a prison to which I must return captive, despite myself.”
“It is not only a man who may be dangerous to a woman... In some cases it can be another woman.”
“What kind of story is this?”
“The kind of story that often happens—regardless of what men think. The kind of story that people don't believe for the most part, or which makes them smile, half amused and half indulgent.”
“So I don't love you?”
“Of course you don't love me.”
“How do you expect me to know what your thoughts are? They're yours. They're no business of mine.”
“I'll do what I've decided to do… even if doing so shatters everything.”
“You whom I've always thought incapable of anything low or cheap. And here you are mixed up in the cheapest of all things—a lie!”
“If I lie, it's because I'm driven to it.”
“By whom?”
“By every one. There's no other course open to me.”
“[With despair]: I want so much to love you. [She bends over and sobs, her head on his breast.]”
“Understand this: they are not for us. They must be shunned, left alone. Don't make my mistake. Don't say, as I said in a situation almost like yours, don't say: "Oh, it's nothing but a sort of ardent friendship—an affectionate intimacy... nothing very serious. we know all about that sort of thing!” No! We don't know anything about it! We can't begin to know what it is. It's mysterious—terrible! Friendship, yes—that's the mask. Under cover of friendship a woman can enter any household, whenever and however she pleases—at any hour of the day—she can poison and pillage everything before the man whose home she destroys is even aware of what's happening to him. When finally he realizes things it's too late—he is alone! Alone in the face of a secret alliance of two beings who understand one another because they're alike, because they're of the same sex, because they're of a different planet than he, the stranger, the enemy! Ah! if a man tries to steal your woman you can defend yourself, you can fight him on even terms, you can smash his face in. But in this case—there's nothing to be done—but get out while you still have strength to do it! And that's what you've got to do!”
“She'd been ill a long time. She had just had a relapse. All that night she'd been delirious. It seems that she had asked for me several times.”
“It's love that's lacking, Irene; you long to love, just as I long to be loved.”
“She can never belong to you no matter how you try. They're not for us.”
“How beautiful!”
“[Quietly, without moving]: What's beautiful?”
“A woman!”
“You've no right to stop me from doing what I want.”
“After a moment, her eyes light on the vase which contains the violets; she is drawn over to them, looks at them, touches them delicately.”
“Perhaps I would learn to love you?”
“Afterwards, you mean? No, my dear…”
“But once you told me that I would.”
“Ah! Because at that time I thought that only your pride stood between us. I didn't know then all that separates us!”
“But when you will have cured me…”
“Do you really believe that I could?”
“Yes, if you're very kind, very indulgent, if you have a little patience.”
“But, you see I love you too much for that.”
“She is suffering probably, as the weak always do, struggling with a stronger nature until they give in.”
“A woman is always that (simple) the first time she's in love.”
“I need some one to watch me, to hold me back. Some one who has understood or guessed certain things—that I can't talk about, that I can never tell!”
“There's only one way to love, you see, and one way to suffer, It's the same formula for everybody—and in that respect she and I have been in the same boat for some time. Only she hasn't got used to it yet—and I have.
“I'm not thinking of killing myself. It takes courage to die like that. And I haven't even any courage left… I have nothing left…”
“Do you believe people change?”
“They learn a little.”
“[Smiling] : While traveling?”
“Yes, while traveling.”
“What do they learn?”
“To love the people of their homeland, the people who speak their language. It's tiresome to talk when one isn't understood. One wearies of it.”
“[He starts to kiss her on the mouth. As Irene beholds his face filled with longing, she makes an abrupt movement of aversion.]”
“[This time it is she who offers her lips to him. Then, her nerves giving way, she lets her head fall on his shoulder, struggles with herself a moment, and breaks into tears.]”
“I am afraid of myself.”
“[Irene slowly turns and looks at the violets. She walks toward them, lifts them from the box, caresses them. Her eyes become fixed and hard. She turns toward the door through which Jaques went out. She looks at the flowers again, seems to hesitate, then abruptly gets her hat, and rushes out to her room.]”
October 13, 2022
didn't really enjoy it, tho it seems unfair to rate a play based only on reading it
July 12, 2022
Pretty good!
I've been looking for LGBTQ+ stories, so I'm happy to have found this one. Bourdet does a fantastic job of illustrating the various ways in which each of his characters suffers. He makes it crystal clear that every character in the play is entrapped in their own story, and they just go out of their way to avoid conflict. It's been a while since I read a play, but I really liked this :)
I've been looking for LGBTQ+ stories, so I'm happy to have found this one. Bourdet does a fantastic job of illustrating the various ways in which each of his characters suffers. He makes it crystal clear that every character in the play is entrapped in their own story, and they just go out of their way to avoid conflict. It's been a while since I read a play, but I really liked this :)
November 25, 2023
I don’t think I will ever recover from this play. It hits too close to home.
Made me sad but in a good way. As the title says the characters are all captives to another character in some way.
The obsessive nature of love vs the genuine love of wanting someone else to be happy is a theme I really enjoy
Made me sad but in a good way. As the title says the characters are all captives to another character in some way.
The obsessive nature of love vs the genuine love of wanting someone else to be happy is a theme I really enjoy
February 7, 2023
Den var fin i stunder men väldigt gammal. Lesbiska och sexuella anspelningarna som var skandalösa då funkar inte idag. Vore dock kul att göra en pjäs med lesbiska anspelningar? Ha denna i bakgrund och gör modern touch? Såsom EM Foster i Arv?
October 21, 2025
4.5 stars to this fascinating play!
love the story for its implicitly and how it presented same-sex relations. the production history is also fascinating and telling of the 1920s!
love the story for its implicitly and how it presented same-sex relations. the production history is also fascinating and telling of the 1920s!
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews