Religion and Wordplay

Religion and Wordplay Most critics of Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? are mindful of the play's rich array of religious signifiers, from Martha's deified father (George: "He's a god, we all know that," 26 [New American Library edition of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, 1962]), to the sacrificial son (Martha: "Poor lamb," 221); from George's Requiem Mass ("Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis," 227), to the Sabbath denouement (George: "Sunday tomorrow; all day,'' 239), and so forth. The self-reflexivity of the play's language has also served as a point d'appui for critical inquiry. Similar words and phrases bounce back and forth throughout all three acts: Martha: George and Martha, sad, sad, sad (191) Nick: George and Martha, sad, sad, sad. (191) Honey: and so they were married.... George: and so they were married. (146) Nick: Lady, please. (232) Honey: Lady... please... (233) What has gone unnoticed, so far as I know, is the conjoining of these two essential motifs. This linkage occurs during two critical moments in the play: one at the beginning of act 1, the other at the conclusion of act 3. Religion and Wordplay 15 It is Martha who utters the play's first word: "Jesus." Terribly shaken at the very end of the play by the death of the imaginary son, she echoes this initial line: "Just... us?" On both occasions, she and George are alone on stage (3,241). This subtle play on the off-rhymes ''Jesus'' and "Just... us?" accomplishes three things: It links up the aforementioned motifs of religion and language, making of them in effect a single, overarching motif; it brings Martha, the uncertain atheist who is also scared of being alone, to a crossroads; and it refreshes, in a single homophone, the audience's collective memory of the play's central conflict among George, Martha, and the son. The transcendent son brings a double-edged sword to George and Martha's relationship. He gives them something to share above and beyond the disillusionments and recriminations of a tortured marriage. Ironically, however, the son also provides them with a doomsday weapon to use in their "total war'' against each other (159). Martha's line, "He's not completely sure it's his own kid," simultaneously wounds George and reinforces the notion of Immaculate Conception. George's line, "He is dead. Kyrie, eleison ..." shatters Martha and reprises the Requiem Mass earlier in act 3 (71, 223). From Martha's "Jesus" to her "Just. . . us?" Albee's play between words foregrounds this tragic duality. The italicized "us" in "Jesus" is, in short, a mnemonic clue to the play's ultimate irony: The cherished son must be sacrificed in order to redeem the us, the barren marriage of George and Martha. Put another way, in tones meant to be spoken "very softly, very slowly." George and Martha transubstantiate the atonement of act I to the atone-ment of act 3 (239). The audience should now understand why Nick's question, "You couldn't have ... any?" prompts George and Martha's " We couldn't," a mutual response, which is accompanied by Albee's stage direction. A hint of communion in this (238). Source: Steven Carter, review or Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, in the Explicator, Volume 55, no. 2. Winter, 1997, pp. 102-03.