The Power to Connect
by Kimberly Colburn
In the Next Room or the vibrator play follows the fictional Doctor Givings and his wife, Catherine. Set during the end of the famously prudish Victorian era, playwright Sarah Ruhl’s latest hit comedy explores themes of self-discovery, women’s sexuality and the impact of innovation.
With her title, Ruhl is already raising interesting questions. Did you find it funny? I have told many people about the show I’m working on, and surprised snickering is by far the most frequent reaction. You might think that a play with the word “vibrator” in the title would be shocking or even pornographic, but as Ruhl herself says: “It’s very discreet. People hoping for something lurid or campy might be disappointed.”
In the play, Dr. Givings employs the recently invented electric vibrator to treat women suffering from hysteria. At the time, hysteria was ascribed to any ailment that couldn’t be readily identified with another disease, and symptoms could include anything from faintness, nervousness, or insomnia to more ambiguous symptoms such as irritability, loss of appetite for food or sex, or simply a tendency to cause trouble.
Dr. Givings’ wife, Catherine, is curious about her husband’s ministrations to his patients, and is in the next room listening to him administer the treatments. Dr. Givings is focused on his work and gently brushes aside her questions with a few dismissive words. Catherine has recently had her first baby, but the baby has lost weight and Catherine’s milk is deemed inadequate, so they must find a wet nurse. One of Dr. Givings’ patients has a housekeeper who recently lost a baby to cholera but still has milk, and they hire her. Ruhl explains that she was intrigued by “this notion of paying someone to do something that, ideally, one does for one’s own child—or paying a doctor for the sexual treatment that ideally your partner is giving you in a more intimate way. So it’s all these questions of intimacy.”
Catherine feels the lack of intimacy strongly which, combined with her natural curiosity, causes her to befriend the people who come to the house: Mrs. Daldry, a childless woman who is a new patient; Mr. Daldry, a lively man who wants a more energetic wife; Annie, the midwife who assists Dr. Givings; and Leo, an intriguing artist. She has understandably mixed feelings about Elizabeth, the Daldry’s housekeeper who is nursing her child.
At first glance, this play is mining the strict social mores of the Victorian era for its humor. The corseted women speak politely of the weather and express shock and disgust at even the slightest hint of vulgarities like conjugal activities. During Mrs. Daldry’s first treatment, Dr. Givings informs her that they will “respect [her] modesty in every particular,” before applying the vibrator. From our modern point of view, inundated with images of sex in film and television and email boxes filled with prurient spam, we might laugh at the antiquated notion of a doctor stimulating a patient to orgasm as a clinical treatment.
The 1880s also brought the dawn of electricity. Before, the home was filled with the flickering light of candles or gas lamps, and suddenly electric light glares in comparison. A ready source of electric current in the home presented endless possibilities for how it could be harnessed. (As a side note, the vibrator was invented a full nine years before the electric iron—you can draw your own conclusions.)
That sense of discovery and illumination color the world of the play. Miracles such as lamps and phonographs are rocking their world as surely as the dawn of computers changed our lives just a few decades ago. Dr. Givings clearly embraces the new technology wholeheartedly, while Catherine seems fascinated but cautious about the implications the new gadgets will have on the world. She says, “Do you think our children’s children will be less solemn? A flick of the finger—and all is lit! A flick of the finger, and all is dark! On, off, on off! We could change our minds a dozen times a second! On, off, on off! We shall be like gods!”
When Catherine’s curiosity gets the better of her, she enlists Mrs. Daldry to show her what has been happening with her husband on the other side of the door. Catherine and Mrs. Daldry’s experiments begin to arouse feelings they’ve never had before and don’t have the vocabulary to convey. As Catherine pushes past the boundaries that were laid out for her, the unconventional artist Leo encourages her to “leave behind the stranglehold of convention and loosen your corset, Mrs. Givings, you will breathe much better.”
The play is based on historical fact; at the time, the vibrator was seen as no naughtier than a stethoscope. Doctors and patients perceived no connection between sex and the “paroxysm” that the vibrator generated in women. The paroxysm was viewed as a release and restoration of the balance of fluids in the uterus, which had caused the symptoms of hysteria. Not surprisingly, in an age when sexual relations between married couples were viewed by women as merely a thing to be endured, this “release” contributed greatly to the improved health of these women.
The play provides more than simple chuckles at the notions and relative innocence of yesteryear. Catherine is grappling expectations of what a wife and a mother should be versus her needs as a woman. Dr. Givings loves his wife and is fascinated by her, but seems unable to express his feelings in a way that she can hear. The struggle to communicate between the sexes continues today—men are from Mars and women are from Venus, after all. What do we really know about our partners in life, underneath the expectations from our family or from society? How can we connect with them? Can Catherine and Dr. Givings get past the obstacles that convention has established for them? Is it possible to be truly open to another person?
Ultimately, the play is touching because it is so entertaining. While it is fun to laugh at what used to be the standard practice, Ruhl’s talent is in the thoughtful parallels she subtly draws while you’re engaged in the journey of these characters. Her title has you chuckling a little before you even sit down for the play.
It’s okay. You can laugh. It is a comedy.
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About the Artists
Playwright Sarah Ruhl is no stranger to SCR stages. In the Next Room or the vibrator play marks Ruhl’s return to SCR following 2008’s Dead Man’s Cell Phone. SCR also produced the West Coast Premiere of The Clean House in 2005. In her writing, she is attracted to the irrationality of emotions: “I like plays that have revelations in the moment,” she told The New Yorker, “where emotions transform almost inexplicably.” In 2006, she received a MacArthur Foundation “genius grant” for her “vivid and adventurous theatrical works that poignantly juxtapose the mundane aspects of daily life with mythic themes of love and war.” The production is led by director Casey Stangl. Stangl directed SCR’s production of Junie B. Jones last year and has directed at many of the major regional theatres nationally. She is excited to be back at SCR to helm Ruhl’s latest work.
The cast features SCR newcomer Kathleen Early as Catherine Givings. Her most recent stage outing was as Honey in the Broadway revival of Who’s Afraid of Virgina Woolf. Dr. Givings will be played by Andrew Borba, who appeared previously at SCR in Dead Man’s Cell Phone. Mr. and Mrs. Daldry will be played by SCR favorites Tom Shelton and Rebecca Mozo. Libby West, last seen at SCR in Lovers and Executioners, will play Dr. Givings’ assistant, Annie. Tracy Leigh plays Elizabeth, and proved her comedy chops at SCR in Safe in Hell. The cast is rounded out with another SCR newcomer, Ron Menzel, as Leo. He was recently in the newest Tony Kushner play at the Guthrie Theatre.
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