The Portrait of a Tenor

The Chronicle of a Struggle Ensuing Between a Noted Singer and a Newspaper Reporter

FERENC MOLNÁR

A GREAT Tenor has arrived in a large city of a morning. He is living in the most beautiful suite of the most fashionable hotel. He has just finished a delicious breakfast after emerging from his scented bath,sung a few high notes, and looked in the mirror, lie is greatly satisfied with himself. His face is beaming with happiness. But suddenly a dark shadow passes over his features for his secretary enters and says: "Sir, a representative of the most famous local newspaper is here. He wishes to interview you."

TENOR: Oh, so it's beginning . . .

SECRETARY: Yes, sir, it's beginning . . .

TENOR (with a sigh): Show him in.

(The Reporter enters)

REPORTER: Good morning, maestro. Are you just out of bed?

TENOR: Are you asking this question merely to satisfy your own curiosity or is it part of the interview?

REPORTER: Why do you ask?

TENOR: Because my answer depends on it. I shouldn't like to be thought a man who gets up late. It makes the artist unsympathetic in the eyes of the millions who rise early.

REPORTER: SO you are a lazy man who rises late. (He takes out his pencil)

TENOR (alarmed): God, no! I am up at six o'clock and practise until breakfast every morning in the year.

REPORTER (puts his pencil away): That's not interesting. It's dull, dry, and tedious. But let's proceed. Mow do you like this country and our city?

TENOR (vexed): Now what can I say that will be in good taste?

REPORTER: I don't want to hear anything in good taste. But you may say whatever you wish, you're trapped in any case.

TENOR: Why?

REPORTER: Because if you praise our city, the lead of my story will be this: "X, famous tenor, is one of those stupid people who still believe that they may gain the favour of our art-loving citizens by cheap flattery".

TENOR: And if I don't praise your city?

REPORTER: Then the lead will read: "X, great tenor, arrives in our midst, filled with disapproval. He belongs to the class which considers nothing good enough for them."

TENOR: Is there no escape?

REPORTER: None. The story must be interesting.

TENOR: But I want to appear sympathetic.

REPORTER: That is the crucial point where our interests must inevitably clash. You wish to appear sympathetic: but this fact is flat and uninteresting to me and to my newspaper. If I write it, in my story, the reader will yawn and throw the paper away. I want to write a fascinating story, and if I do you'll be the one who will throw the paper away, not yawning but in anger. My choice is easy: I cannot bore my readers, and so you will have to be angry instead. But let's continue. I have no time to lose. Third question: Do you love your wife?

TENOR: NO matter what I answer you'll make a scandal out of it. But wait! I have an idea! My answer is: I am not married.

REPORTER(takes notes)

TENOR(worried): What are you writing down ?

REPORTER: One of the sub-heads: "Great Tenor Disavows Wife; Believes Mate Will Interfere With Probable Escapades While Here".

TENOR: Man, you'll drive me to suicide.

REPORTER: Alas! I am not so fortunate! But come now. I haven't much time. Fourth question: Are you faithful to your wife?

TENOR: But, my dear sir, what can I answer to that?

REPORTER: There are only two possible answers: yes or no. But don't worry, it makes no difference at all what you answer.

TENOR: What if I say: yes?

REPORTER: Then the headline will be: "Famous Tenor Confessed Woman-hater; Under the Care of Alienists."

TENOR: And if I say: no?

REPORTER: In that case: "Famous Tenor Despicable Seducer; Wife Unhappiest Creature." W ell, which one do you choose?

TENOR: Neither one.

REPORTER: Very well. (Writing) "Famous Tenor Adjures Feminine Company. No Longer Young, He Says".

TENOR: I am lost!

REPORTER: Not yet. But let's hurry. Fifth question: Why do you want to divorce your wife?

TENOR: I don't want to.

REPORTER: But you will.

TENOR: No, I will not.

REPORTER: NO one knows that in advance. Hurry! Answer: Why are you going to leave your wife in the near future?

TENOR (tearing his hair): I do not intend to leave her! I adore her!

REPORTER(busily writing): In that case, she will leave you. Answer this one: Why will your wife leave you in the near future?

TENOR: Because I'll be convicted as a murderer.

REPORTER (cheerfully): Oh, so you've committed murder?

TENOR: I haven't yet. But I will. I'll murder you.

REPORTER (very happy): Great! (Diligently taking notes) That's what I like! That's interesting! Thank you, thank you verymuch! Now let's finish the interview quickly. There are only a few trifling questions left, anyway. What's your favourite dish?

TENOR (Grinding his teeth): Human flesh.

REPORTER: Great! (Busily writing) Only a few more paltry, insignificant details . . . Eighth question: When did you lose your voice?

TENOR: Sir, are you in earnest?

REPORTER: Of course. Well, answer it quickly.

TENOR (at the top of his voice): I haven't lost my voice.

REPORTER (takes notes)

TENOR: What are you writing?

REPORTER: A headline for the story: "X, Great Tenor, Says He Has Not Lost His Voice".

TENOR: My dear man, you'll ruin me!

REPORTER: You're very unjust. My headline is an exact reproduction of what you've said. I didn't change a single word—and yet you don't like it.

TENOR: But why must you ask whether I've lost my voice or not?

REPORTER: I am not here to answer your questions. It is you who have to answer mine. And to prove that I respect your vanity, I'll put down a few highly flattering remarks also. How much do you get for an evening?

TENOR: Five hundred dollars.

REPORTER: I'll say you get two thousand.

TENOR: Don't do that! I'll have to pay a tremendous income tax.

(Continued on page 112)

(Continued from page 68)

REPORTER (while writing): I wish I were able to.

TENOR (desperately): Have you anything else to ask?

REPORTER (closes his note-book): No, that will do. Thank you. Don't feel depressed, maestro. Believe me, my method serves your interests as well as it does mine. No one is anxious to hear a tenor who is normal and uninteresting, no matter how beautifully he may sing. But a picturesque beast, even if he sings miserably, makes loads of money.

TENOR: But I am not a beast!

REPORTER: Well, if you aren't now, you'll be one, rest assured. Just finish your tour. And when you will have appeared in New York, London, Paris, Milan, Berlin, Vienna, Budapest, Belgrade, and Athens, read your press clippings and you'll see what a beast you are. And what an interesting man! Believe me, nobody knows his own self. A man is never what lie is in reality. He is like the portrait Public Opinion paints of him. And Public Opinion paints such a portrait as it wants to see of him.

TENOR (melancholy): You are quite right.

REPORTER (takes his notebook and writes something).

TENOR: What are you writing this time?

REPORTER: Just what you've said: "Famous tenor would like to appear before the world as a beast because he thinks it is necessary in order to make money and achieve glory." Good bye.

(Reporter hurriedly leaves the room. The Tenor remains alone; wipes away a tear, and then calls his Secretary).

TENOR: Call up my manager immediately and tell him to double the price of the tickets for my appearance at once.