The Caretaker and the Dumb Waiter (Pinter, Harold)

Bought for my friend, she loved the book!!

Just an old copy of a couple great old plays. What can a theatre guy say?

The Caretaker and the Dumbwaiter are two Pinter plays that remind the reader that they were meant to be performed rather than read silently sitting at home. There is a good deal of humor in each play that readers may very well miss, but that those watching a performance would no doubt enjoy. For example, in The Caretaker, Mick is a working class guy in his late twenties who purportedly owns a tumbledown, ramshackle old house that currently has only one (barely) habitable room. He describes to an old man named Davies, however, how he plans to completely renovate and furnish the entire dwelling. His description, couched in language that I take to be peculiar to the most sophisticated and expensive interior decorators and architects are, I'm sure, hilarious when coming from the mouth of a leather-jacketed, sometimes maniacally teasing and taunting Lad, whose only resource is the old dump he's sitting in. Dense as I am, I took this all too seriously until Mick recounted his elaborate tale a second time word for word. Performed on stage, the juxtaposition of the young thug-wannabe with the quasi-technical, aesthetically refined description of his proposed renovations must have seemed ridiculously funny. Perhaps the same would be true of Aston's interminable fiddling with the switch on a toaster he's trying to repair.Similarly, in The Dumbwaiter, Ben and Gus' testy exchange over the meaning, or lack of same, of the expression "light the kettle" at first struck me as passingly silly. Upon reflection, and imagining two skilled actors arguing over whether "light the kettle" or "light the gas" was conventional usage is the sort of argue-'til-you're-exhausted question that evokes laughter, especially when the exchange continues with no end in the making and no way to resolve it. Yes, one does not literally light the kettle, but as Ben claims, it's a commonplace figure of speech. Gus' claim that you can't literally light the kettle is undeniably true, but so what? His persistence seems to bespeak an odd lack of familiarity with his own colloquial language, and Ben's consternation is understandable. The more red-faced with exasperation he becomes in his encounter with adamant stupidity, the funnier it all becomes. Again, this is much easier to appreciate when seen on stage rather than simply reading while reclining in one's easy chair.In both plays, however, Pinter's cloistered, terminally shabby, barely livable one-room settings argue against humor, especially when it bespeaks next-thing-to-homelessness poverty or a way station where hired killers wait to get their final lethal instructions. Nevertheless, even an ill-favored context can occasion humor if the playwright and actors are sufficiently talented, and the characters are sufficiently ludicrous, and perhaps a bit mean-spirited.The Caretaker is more explicit in invoking the themes of identity and belonging than Pinter's other work. This is especially evident in the case of Davies, the old man full of claims as to who he knows, the strapping and eminently capable man that he once was, and his willingness to modify his story to suit his interlocutor, whether Ben or Mick. Davies makes no secret of the fact that he's down and out, but he makes vague claims as to prospects and the existence of essential documentation that, once he retrieves it, will help his get on his way. He never explains why he had his name legally changed from Davies to Jenkins, and he often ends his sentences with "man" or less frequently "boy" rather than the conventional "mate." Though he gives voice to hating blacks, a racial category that he construes very broadly, his use of "man" and "boy" brings to mind stereotypical usage in, say, Jamaica. Identity again?Anton's kindness to Davies, saving him from a beating and giving him a place to stay, is uncharacteristic of Pinter. If it's to his advantage, however, Davies has no reservations about turning on Aston in favor of Mick.A job as a caretaker would save Davies from homelessness and beggary. It remains unclear, however, whether the job is more than an artifact of Mick and Aston's pipe dreams. This sort of uneasy uncertainty is something we have come to recognize as intrinsic to Pinter's understanding of life.In The Dumbwaiter, the dialogue between Ben and Gus consists of the sort of banal, inane, didn't-need-to-be-said working class linguistic noise that suffuses most of Pinter's work. The Dumbwaiter is unconventional, however, in that it is organized around a clear purpose, even if a nasty one. Ben and Gus, in today's common parlance, are hit men,waiting to be given the identity of their target for this week.In a room that is part of the basement of a building that once housed an upscale restaurant, they very unexpectedly begin receiving taunting requests for exotic dishes to be sent up the dumbwaiter. Gus and Ben send what they've got, nothing at all like the requested dishes, and they receive a critique of the items they've managed to get together. They become exasperated, and maybe a bit panicky.When Gus leaves the room to go to the lavatory, Ben receives a message that leaves him grim-faced and a good deal leas cocksure and in control than he had been. Upon Gus' return, they look at each other, and each says, "What are you lookin' at?" The meaning of the message to Ben is now clear, and Pinter, for once, ends a play with a readily interpretable ending.However, throughout The Dumbwaiter, the play seemed more conventional than I've come to expect Pinter to be. It was plainly purposeful, even if the purpose was nefarious.In my view, The Caretaker is a Better Play than The Dumbwaiter. Both, however, are worth our attention.

As described.

One review, until now, is pathetic. This book, featuring two of the absurd, menacing, weighty master's early works is terrific.The Caretaker, along with The Homecoming, The Birthday Party and Old Times is one of Pinter's best, ultimately important, works. It is in my opinion one of the great post-WWII English plays.The Dumb Waiter, similar to The Caretaker in it's setting and brother-like characters, while being a long one-act, is creepier still and more enigmatic.The Caretaker is about a vagabond named Davies, who is taken into a run-down room in a run-down house by Aston, who lives there, and collects things in it, and is the brother of Mick, who owns the building. Initially the relationship between Davies and Aston is kind, generous and progressive. Davies, used to trudging through life homeless is taken aback at the trust and goodwill offered by Aston. When Mick arrives later, Davies must feel out the differing attitude, as Mick looks after his brother, and isn't so easily trusting of the ragged and scruffy Davies. But eventually Aston seems odd (and delivers an amazing monologue testifying to his possible insanity), and Mick more level headed, and both at different times offer Davies a job in the house, as Caretaker.But Pinter being Pinter, the goodwill is possibly unreal, or something else entirely. There is a vague confusion to the play, a lack of specifics, and the characters, in classic masculine style, only say what they think they need to, i.e.: Davies: What do you do-? What do you do...when the bucket's full? Pause. Aston: Empty it. Pause.Davies, somewhat boxed into the house by weather and possibility never knows his place, as the brothers, who rarely are in the room together, keep him off balance. The truth becomes elusive, as do the facts. One never knows one's place, or how each feels about the other. A scary moment comes when Davies, flustered by the erratic behavior of Aston, calls him "nutty" to his brother, Mick. To which Mick replies: "You get a bit out of your depth sometimes, don't you?"The Dumb Waiter is more absurd then The Caretaker. Two guys, possibly hitmen, possibly waiters, staying in a basement room, awaiting orders to do something, must contend with a dumb waiter that begins to descend with notes requesting food. The room clearly not a kitchen, and they not sure what is going on upstairs, instead put the little food they have in the dumb waiter, which ascends and descends several times. The trapped nature of Gus and Ben lends that Pinter menace to the story. Each has a gun, and seems ready to kill. But a lack of information, either known to them, or expressed by them so we know, keeps the lid on the proverbial pot.These both are classic plays. I highly recommend this book.

this book was just righ thanks.