A Streetcar Named Desire: The Title?
After half a century of critical
and public acclaim, Streetcar is so much a part of theatrical heritage that it
is hard to imagine it being called anything else. But it is worth remembering
that what seems natural and inevitable now did not seem so to Tennessee
Williams when he wrote the play. His string of working titles suggests the
final choice was not glaringly obvious. Desire as a driving force is clearly a
central concern of the play, but the so is the idea of fatal attraction
suggested by ‘The Moth’, or of ruthless cat and mouse competition suggested by
‘The Poker Night’. And, while those titles connect closely to patterns of
imagery permeating the play’s action, dialogue and stage effects, my contention
is that the title finally chosen does not.
Limited Journeys
On the one hand, the metaphor of
experience as a physical journey has a long literary history. And the kind of
travel particularized by a streetcar fits well with the play’s representation
of desire as a driving force taking characters to destinations which are, at
best, very approximate choices. On arrival, Blanche refers to her bewildering
tram ride, and Williams uses the
On the other hand, by the time the
play opens, Blanche is near the end of her journey; in fact we ware watching
her last chance road-stop. Between her arrival and departure – the opening and
closing moments of the play – Williams has created a fixed interior in the two
rooms of the Kowalski flat, with exterior stage areas also strongly suggesting
a specific location. There is limited opportunity within that stage space to
make use of streetcar-related props and imagery. One exception occurs in scene
8, when
True, the dialogue at time alludes
to life as geographical movement. This, I think, is why Williams makes
Lighting the stage
Despite the play’s allusions to
life as a journey, scrutiny of the text shows Williams actually makes scant use
of the streetcar because – banal as it sounds - they play is set neither in a
bus station nor on a tram. In contrast, if we turn to one of his working
titles, The Moth, Williams’ stage setting allows him to introduce the light
symbolism and related props with effortless skill. Take, for example, the
Chinese lantern. Naturalistically, it seems just the purchase Blanche would
make: frivolous, elegant and blurring the shabby surroundings she longs to
obscure. Dramatically, in scene 3, it changes the lighting effect as Blanche
exerts her influence over Mitch, and sets one half of the stage in opposition
to the lurid light over the poker players. The contrasting effects define two
opposing territories from which Blanche and Stanley wage a tug-of –war over
Mitch during scene 3.
Symbolically, the lantern shields
Blanche from the ‘merciless glare’ of a bare bulb, itself connected through the
dialogue to acts of deliberate cruelty or vulgarity, and to a harsh,
unforgiving attitude. Later, Mitch angrily snatches off the shade, complaining
he has been deceived, but Williams’ stage business in scene 3 shows Mitch’s
deceptions are as much self-induced as anything. His willingness to put up the
lantern signifies his active collusion in the romanticized version of herself
that Blanche constructs. In contrast, Stanley’s refusal to participate, his
view of Blanche’s yearning for magic and glamour as mere trickery, is expressed
in his ironic reference to the lantern: ‘You come here and sprinkle the place
with powder and spray perfume and cover the light-bulb with a paper lantern and
lo and behold the place has turned into Egypt and you are the Queen of the
Nile’
I could go on to examine how
Williams uses the lantern in the final scene, but I think the point is made:
some elements of the play seem effortlessly woven into its fabric,
naturalistically and symbolically; the play’s title is not one of them.
Life Luggage
Having said that, one
travel-related property works supremely well: Blanche’s trunk. Seamlessly
integrated into the play’s action, it unifies the literal and metaphorical
meanings of Blanche’s journey. Travelers have luggage, and experience also
brings psychological and emotional baggage. Both are evident in the contents
and arrangement of Blanche’s trunk, whose importance is made clear by her
comment, ‘Everything I own is in that trunk.’ Clearly, the compartments
represent areas of Blanche’s past experience – ones she would no doubt prefer
to keep separate – and highlight the contradictions in her situation and in her
psyche: glamour overlaying the debt, tributes from conquests overlaying
vulnerability and pain. And
In scene 2,
He ends by ‘ripping’ the ribbons
from Allan’s letters, which are scattered to the floor. And what
Unpacking the past
It is fitting that the trunk makes
a second major appearance in scene 10 – dragged into the centre of the stage
again. In the patterning of the dramatic structure, the second and penultimate
are mirror scenes. Both cover the only significant periods of time when Stanley
and Blanche are alone and Stella is out of the flat. In the former scene
Blanche is ‘unpacked’ and by the latter she is packing. Her tiara and gowns are
again on display, this time crumpled and soiled, symbolising the damage that
Under his ‘merciless glare’
Blanche is stripped of all dignity. She drops the bottle in defeat when she
sees even her resistance construed as whorehouse posturing: ‘So you want some
rough-house! All right, let’s have some rough-house!’
In summary, then, Blanche’s trunk
represents aspects of her self: her inherited circumstances, her experiences,
her memories, losses and aspirations.
An exploration of Williams’ use of
this prop, as with the Chinese lantern, shows how naturally symbolic meanings seem
to emerge from the drama, so much so that these meanings can be summed up
idiomatically. In scene 3, the radio shows that Mitch literally and figuratively
‘dances to Blanche’s tune’; in scene 5 coke spilling on her white dress reveals
Blanche’s fear of ‘staining her image’; in scene 5 the young man’s lighter
illustrates the temperamental ‘spark of attraction’. Likewise, Blanche’s trunk
shows her ‘psychological and emotional baggage’. In contrast, the play’s title
does not seem to emerge from the drama itself. Instead, the characters have to
import it by reference to a world beyond the stage. This reflects the way the
author himself arrived at the title, looking out through his
Taken from an article by Jackie Shead in The
English Review, November 2005