Scranton Central HS December 1956 Yearbook (Scranton, PA) - Full Access

THE MARIONETTE The deep red curtain dropped one again amid wave of applause. After thi ovation th audi nee rose and swarmed up the ai les like bees leaving a hive. Their chatter was muted by the pell whi h the play had woven. It was strange that the lifeless figure of the marionettes could w in pir th people of this small midwestern town. P rhaps in the gay cavorting of th puppet· they saw th mselvcs happy and carefree. carccly happy and car free wa the owner builder tage director, and manager of the show, Han Friedrich. "Ach!" he cried as he carefully laid each marion tt in the ca c. "h gut ve hafT only three \'Ceks more of thi tour. I viii be glad t go back home." 0 h, I u•ish u·e u•ere home, too £igh d reta, th flaxen-haired mari– onette Han wa holding. I wish I could tell Herr Friedrich: I wish I could tell the world. "There Greta, you viii be fine for the night. Tomorrow you viii be just a. b au tiful as you are now, a you vcr vhen I fir t shaped you from that luffiy pi 'C of pin' vood." Hans ften spoke hi thought alowl wh n h wa working. Although th pro trate figure could never answer him he d rived a fe ling of com– panion hip in th one- id d convcr- ation. DE EMBER 1956 Marian Folk, '57 A lonely voice cries out in silence W;fma McG;nn;s, '60 Greta obediently followed her wooden companions into the satin– lined case which served as their sleeping room and traveling com– partm nt The days melted into nights, and the nights meant performance after p rformancc through town after town, a the troup gradually ad– vanced to the Ea t oa t. The va t– ne of the country amazed Greta. he had b n born under the skill– ful fingers of Fri drich and had seen but little of G rmany; now on thi. international tour h wa con tant– ly meeting trange and n w ights. In each city he aw people working playing, learning, and enjoying th m lve . Greta cri d out to h r fellow marion tte How unfair it is! These peo j1le are all free to laugh and dance and even shout if they u•ish u•hile we have nothing. We could not lift a fingf!1 without help. The figure neither li tencd nor replied, and poor Greta wa driven to despair. Whj• am I the only one? Why is it I who cry for liberty? Why don t you say something? But they lay with a deathlik . tiline . t Ia t the littl group reached New York, the completion of their circuit and the end of their tour. From there they embarked on a gr at ocean liner for the voyage home. Greta had been ilcnt lately. he had been trying to di cover why he wa alone in her f clings. Her friend looked the arne a he. Their faces w re similar and their smile:; wer gaily painted. Able to ee nothing beyond the face , she rea– lized that th y had no substance, nothing which distingui h d them. Again she bcgg d, h implored them to an wer crying When you're in the stage, people think you are real; but they are so wrong· you're just chunks of wood, nothing more. Her only answer was ilene , ilence that wa. never broken. ·:<- r ta gr w old; from handling, her body b cam velvety mooth, h r fac need d repainting, her arm was di located. he pent most of her tim alone, but she didn't mind now. After all the years of muteness he had forgotten how to think. 13