The idea that "art" and "entertainment" are opposites, that art is serious and dull, while entertainment is empty and stupid, but enjoyable — is the result of the nonhuman, altruistic morality. That which is good [in this view] must be unpleasant. That which is enjoyable is sinful. Pleasure is an indulgence of a low order, to be apologized for. The serious is the performance of a duty, unpleasant and, therefore, uplifting. If a work of art examines life seriously, it must necessarily be unpleasant and unexciting, because such is the nature of life for man. An entertaining, enjoyable play cannot possibly be true to the deeper essence of life, it must be superficial, since life is not to be enjoyed.
It is unlikely that Miss Rand had her early work in mind when she wrote these words, but the present piece does illustrate her point. Think Twice is an entertaining, enjoyable play that is true to the deeper essence of life.
I first read the play in the 1950s, with Miss Rand present, asking me now and then who I thought the murderer was. I guessed just about every possibility, except the right one. Each time, Miss Rand beamed and said: "Think twice." When I finished, she told me that anyone who knew her and her philosophy should have been able to guess right away. She could not, she went on, ever write a series of mysteries, because everyone would know who the murderers were. "How?" I asked.
Now see if you can guess the murderer. After the play, I will quote her answer.
L. P.
Think Twice CHARACTERS:
WALTER BRECKENRIDGE
CURTISS
SERGE SOOKIN
HARVEY FLEMING
TONY GODDARD
STEVE INGALLS
BILLY BRECKENRIDGE
FLASH KOZINSKY
ADRIENNE KNOWLAND
HELEN BRECKENRIDGE
GREGORY HASTINGS
DIXON
Place Living room of a home in Connecticut
TimeAct I, Scene 1 — Afternoon of July 3rd
Act I, Scene 2 — That evening
Act II, Scene 1 — Half an hour later
Act II, Scene 2 — Next morning
Act ISCENE 1Afternoon of July 3rd. The living room of a home in Connecticut. A large room, not offensively wealthy, but evidencing both money and an unsuccessful attempt at good taste. The room is stately and Colonial— too deliberately so. Everything is brand-new, resplendently unused; one expects to see price tags on the furniture.
Large French windows, Center, opening upon a lovely view of the grounds with a lake in the distance, a view marred only by a dismal, gray sky. Stairway, Stage Right, leading to a door, and another door downstage, leading to the rest of the ground floor. Entrance door upstage Left. Downstage Left an unused fireplace, with logs stacked neatly, and above the fireplace — a large portrait of WALTER BRECKENRIDGE.
At curtain rise, WALTER BRECKENRIDGE stands alone in front of the fireplace. He is a stately, gray-haired man of fifty, who looks like a saint; a very "human" saint, however: benevolent, dignified, humorous, and a little portly. He stands, looking up at the portrait, deeply absorbed, a gun in his hand.
After a while, CURTISS, the butler, enters from door Right, carrying two empty flower vases. CURTISS is elderly, and severely well-mannered. He deposits the vases on a table and a cabinet. BRECKENRIDGE does not turn and CURTISS does not see the gun.
CURTISS: Anything else, sir? [BRECKENRIDGE does not move] Mr. Breckenridge...
[No answer] Is anything the matter, sir?
BRECKENRIDGE: [Absently] Oh... no... no... I was just wondering... [Points at the portrait] Do you think that in the centuries to come people will say he was a great man? [Turns to face CURTISS] Is it a good likeness of me, Curtiss? [CURTISS sees the gun and steps back with a little gasp] What's the matter?
CURTISS: Mr. Breckenridge!
BRECKENRIDGE: What's the matter with you?
