The Wife (Drama) ( 2017) 100 Minutes © 2020 by Frank Mc Girr

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NOTE: FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY! The Wife (Drama) ( 2017)

Major Characters

Joseph Castleman...... Jonathan Pryce Early 70's. A handsome, ageing writer turned literary giant

Joan Castleman...... Glen Close Married to Joseph. She feel in love with her then professor while a student at Smith College. An elegant, educated, deeply self- possessed women who once had ambitions of being a writer.

David Castleman ...... Max Irons The Castlemans oldest child. An aspiring writer, desperately needing his father's approval only to meet with constant criticism of his work

Susannah Castleman ...... Alix Wilton Regan The Castlemans daughter. She is heavily pregnant and expecting her ﬁrst child

Nathaniel Bone...... Christian Slater A biographer with a taste for scandal. He tries to ingratiate himself with the Castlemans on their ﬂight to Stockholm

Linnea Karin ...... Franz Körlof A young photographer assigned to take pictures of Castleman while in Stockholm

Elaine Mozell ...... Elizabeth McGovern An embittered minor author who advises young Joan to forget her literary ambitions

Young Joseph...... Harry Lloyd

Young Joan...... Annie Starke

2 The Wife (Drama) ( 2017)

The Wife is a 2017 drama ﬁlm directed by Björn L. Runge and written by Jane Anderson, based on the novel of the same name by Meg Wolitzer. It stars Glenn Close, Jonathan Pryce, and Christian Slater, and follows a woman who questions her life choices as she travels to Stockholm with her narcissistic husband, who is set to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature.

The ﬁlm premiered on September 12, 2017, at the 2017 Toronto International Film Festival, and was released in the United States on August 17, 2018 by Sony Pictures Classics. It received generally positive reviews from critics, with Close's performance garnering high praise; she won the Golden Globe Award, Screen Actors Guild Award and Critics' Choice Movie Award for Best Actress for her performance, and was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress and the BAFTA Award for Best Actress. ©Wikipedia

Plot

After nearly forty years of marriage,Joan and Joe Castleman are complements Where Joe is casual, Joan is elegant. Where Joe is vain, Joan is self-effacing. And where Joe enjoys his very public role as Great American Novelist, Joan pours her considerable intellect, grace, charm, and diplomacy into the private role of Great Man's Wife. Joe is about to be awarded the Nobel Prize for his acclaimed and proliﬁc body of work. Joe's literary star has blazed since he and Joan ﬁrst met in the late 1950s. The Wife tells the story of a lifetime's shared compromises, secrets, betrayals, and mutual love. © Sony Pictures Classics

The following dialogue was transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of the ﬁlm The Wife

3 Dialogue Castleman Bedroom, Connecticut–Night, October 1992

[first lines] Joan: Joe, what are you doing? Joe: I'm hungry. Joan: Don't eat sugar. It will keep you awake. Joe: If this thing doesn't happen, I don't want to be around for the sympathy calls, okay? So what we're gonna do, we're gonna get out of here. We're gonna rent a cabin in Maine, stare at a fire. Joan: That sounds cheerful. [he gets back into bed] Don't. Joe: Mmm? Don't what? Joan: Don't pretend you're interested in sex just because you're climbing the walls. Joe: Come on, just a quickie. It will help us sleep. Joan: I was asleep. Joe: Well, you shouldn't be. It's not natural. Come on. You don't have to do anything. Just lie there. Joan: Oh, God. Joe, this is pathetic. Joe: Yeah. Pathetic. In the real sense of the word. Pathos... Eros. Joan: Okay, fine. Go ahead. Joe: Just imagine I'm some young, inarticulate stud who's found you lying naked on the beach. [slips his hand under her nightdress ] His big hand is tan, blond knuckle hair, his middle finger gently probing. [she groans] Now he takes out his huge, swaying tumescent cock. Joan: Oh, God, Joe, enough! [both laugh]

Castleman Bedroom. – Early Dawn

Arvid: [on the phone] Hello? Am I speaking to Mr. Joseph Castleman? Joe: Yes, yes. [sits up] Arvid:This is Mr. Arvid Engdahl from the Nobel Foundation in Stockholm, Sweden Joe: [chuckles] Uh, this is not a joke, I take it? Arvid: No, Mr. Castleman, I assure you. If you like I will give you the phone number here, and you can call back. Joe: No, no. That won't be necessary, thank you. Joan: [listening in] Oh, my God! Joe: Listen, before you go on, I'd like my wife to get on the extension. Would that be all right? ...... continued

4 Arvid: Yes, of course, I'll wait. Joan: [in the ofﬁce] Hello? I'm on. Arvid: Mr. Castleman, are you still on as well? Joe: [anxiously] Yes, yes, I am. Arvid: It is my great honour and pleasure to tell you, Mr. Castleman, that you have been chosen to receive this year's Nobel Prize in literature. Joe: Thank, thank you. Thank you very much. [Joan remains very still] Arvid: Mr. Castleman, we are so delighted to be giving you this prize. Your career has a truly remarkable span to it. Not only do you write with extraordinary intimacy, wit and depth, you have also challenged the novelistic form in ways that will affect generations of writers to come. Joe: [chuckles] Well, I, um...should be getting something for all the grey in my beard. Arvid: Indeed, yes. And thank you for doing so on the world's behalf. [to Joan] Mrs. Castleman. You should know that your husband will be fending off the press today, so what I advise is that you monitor his calls, as it does get quite exhausting. Joan: Yes, I'll take good care of him.

Castleman House. Celebration Party

Dusty: So you're going to Stockholm? When? Joan: December. Dusty:[shudders] It'll be freezing there. Joe buying you a fur? Joan: No, I think I'll be like any decent First Lady and get by with a good cloth coat. Joe: Joanie, get over here. Come. Joan: Hello, Hal. Hal: Hello, Joan. You're looking lovely as always. Joan: Thank you, Hal. That's very sweet. Joe: [to Joan] The New York Times is here. [to his publisher] Tell her. Hal: They're giving your husband the cover of the Sunday Magazine. They're knocking out a story about Bill Clinton for him. Joe: Is this going to be like one of those Avedon shots? With all the pores showing? Hal: Every brilliant one of them, my friend. [he leaves] Joe: [to Joan] Oh, God, this is so unreal, huh? How do I look? Joan: You're ﬁne. Joe: No crumbs? Nose hairs? Joan: No. All good? All good. Joe: Oh, Joanie, tell me this isn't some great, big, fat joke. Joan: It's all real, darling. Breathe

5 Castleman House. Celebration Party–Kitchen

Joan: [kissing Susannah’s belly] Hello, my baby's baby. [to Susannah] I need a nap. Susannah: Mmm. Poor Mommy. Joan:[to David] Well, lamb. There you are. David: Yeah, I'm sorry I'm late. I was looking for some decent cigars to give to Dad. Susannah: Oh. I didn't get him anything. Was I supposed to? Joan: Oh, darling, no. He's been lavished enough. ...David. David: Hmm? Joan: I've been wanting to tell you. Your father showed me your short story. David: Yeah? Joan: I think it's beautifully written. David: What did he say? Joan: We haven't discussed it yet.

[later] Joe: David, you just got here? David: Yeah. Congrats, Pa. Joe: What's this? David: They're Maduros. Joe: Oh, my God. These are spectacular. David: No problem. Joe: What a lovely gift. Thank you, David. Oh, you're still smoking, I see. David: You care? Joe: Of course I care. I'd like to see you outlive me. David: So, did you read my piece? Joe: Yes, yes. We'll talk. David: So it is a piece of shit, huh? Joe: Why do you do that? David: Because you're clearly avoiding the subject. Joe: No, I'm clearly distracted at the moment. Look, we'll talk when the time is appropriate. Okay? Joe: Yeah, okay. Please, go and help your mother.

6 Castleman House. A Toast Joe: To quote from the Meditations of Quixote: "I am I, plus my surroundings, and if I do not preserve the latter, I do not preserve myself." Today, I'm the happiest of men. I have my health, give or take a few bypasses. [they laugh] I have you, my wonderful friends, my ever-curious students, my son, David, my beautiful daughter, Susannah, and a future grandchild, who at this moment is happily floating in her mother's amniotic fluid. Finally... Finally, I have my beautiful wife, Joan, the love of my life. Joan, come here. The love of my life. Without this woman, I am nothing. In fact, my greatest achievement is, well, persuading this woman to marry me. Concord – Mid flight to Stockholm

Flight Attendant: Excuse me, Mr. Castleman. There's a gentleman in the back that says he knows you and would like to say hello. Nathaniel Bone? Joan: Tell him... Nathaniel: [joining] Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say congratulations. Joe: Hello, Nathaniel. I take it you're not ﬂying to Stockholm purely for the pickled herring. Nathaniel: No. I wouldn't miss your award for anything. It's truly an astounding achievement, Joe. Joe: [tetchy] It's not about the prize, Nathaniel. It's about getting up the gumption to write the next book. Nathaniel: Absolutely. Well, that’s why you are who you are. May I also say congratulations to you as well, Joan. I don't think people give the spouse enough credit. Joe: I give my wife credit. I give her plenty of credit. Nathaniel: That's not what I meant. I meant the rest of the world. The critics, the readers and most of all... Joe: Nathaniel, I know I'm supposed to be impressed that somehow you've wheedled your way onto this ﬂight, but I'm telling you, I am not giving you permission to write my biography. Now, would you please leave us alone? Nathaniel: Absolutely. You've made that abundantly clear. I just wanted to say congratulations. [goes back to his seat] Joe: God, what a schmuck. Joan: You were rude. Joe: You gotta be rude, otherwise the guy won't give up. Jesus Christ. Joan: You don't want to make an enemy of somebody like that. I mean, there's nothing more dangerous than a writer, whose feelings have been hurt.

7 Grand Hotel–Stockholm

Nathaniel: Mrs. Castleman, I wanna apologise for intruding earlier. I certainly didn't wanna be a pest. Joan: Well, I apologise for my husband's rudeness. Nathaniel: No need. I know he's swamped by glad-handers all the time. Shall we pretend I said something amusing, so it'll look like you're enjoying yourself as well? Joan: No, thank you. I'm very comfortable standing here in my own thoughts. Joe: [calling her over] Joanie, please. Avrid: Mrs. Castleman. Joan: Hello. Arvid: I'm Arvid Engdahl. I am the one who called you about the prize, waking you up at such an ungodly hour. Joan: Not ungodly at all. It added years to my husband's life. Arvid: Mr. Castleman, may I introduce you to Walter Bark, who will be accompanying you on your engagements. Walter: Mr. Castleman, it's an honour. We'll be providing you with anything you need. Joe: Thank you. I can assure you I'm very low-maintenance. Joan: Only when he's asleep. Arvid: This is Mrs. Lindelöf, who looks after our laureate wives. Joan: Hello. Mrs. Lindelöf: Mrs. Castleman. They'll be keeping your husband very busy, so I can arrange for shopping and beauty treatments. Joan: Thank you. We'll see, but... Arvid: Uh, Mr. Castleman, may I introduce to you Linnea Engwall who will be your personal photographer. From your publishing house. Linnea: It's an honour, Mr. Castleman. I'm very much admiring of your work. Joe: Oh, thank you. You're very kind. Linnea: And I will be trailing you with my camera, but, of course, you just pretend I'm not there, okay? Joe: [to Avrid] I'd like you to meet my son, David. Arvid: Hello, David. We are so very glad you could come. We are always pleased to have the children of our laureates. In fact, we see you as just as engaging as your father. David:[quietly] All right. Okay. Joe: I can assure you, my son is very engaging when he's not in the throes of jet lag.

8 Grand Hotel–Castleman Suite

Joe: [champagne] This will be from my lawyer. [to Joan] Do you have my reading glasses? He always sends the same cheap shit. Joan: Here you are. Joe: [the champagne] Yeah, that's him. Oh. What a cheapskate. David, do you want this for your room? David: No, Pop. Joe: Chocolates. Oh. [eats one] That's delicious. David? David: No. Joe: [a note] "Enjoy, enjoy. From Sylvia Fry." Who the hell is Sylvia Fry? David:[staring at his father] One of your characters. Joe: Oh. David: Jesus, Dad. Joan: Don't be hard on him, David. He's tired. Joe: My memory's a little shot at, okay? It'll happen to you. Sooner, perhaps, with your smoking. Joan: [the chocolates] Don't eat all of those. You'll get heartburn. Joe: Have you seen this library, Joan? They've got all the books. Oh. What's it... [laughs] They've even got a copy of The Walnut in fucking Arabic. Did you know about this edition? ..... [to David] Careful with that. [a vase] Would you be careful? What are you doing? [David pretends to drop it] What is the matter with you? David: I'm gonna go and ﬁnd my room. Joe: Here, take some fruit with you. Joan: He's in a mood. Joe: Well, let's hope he gets laid while he's here. Joan: Oh, Joe, don't be so crude. Joe: What? [in the bathroom] Joanie, is there something bugging you? Joan: No. Joe: I wasn't attracted to that woman, you know. Joan: I really could care less. Here, brush your teeth. Your breath is bad. Joe: Really? You think they noticed? Joan: No, they were too busy being awed. Joe: God. All this attention's giving me agita. I don't know. Do you...could you just listen to my heart? Is it skipping a beat? Joan: No, it's not. Joe: Oh, God, I'm too old for this.

9 Flashback–Smith College. 1958

Young Joe: Hello, Miss Archer. Please, come in. [she sits] Your story. I've read it twice, and frankly, both times, I found it to be quite good. Young Joan: Thank you, Professor. Young Joe: Know that you still have a long way to go with this piece. Young Joan: Of course. I'm more than willing to make ﬁxes. Young Joe: I'm not asking you to ﬁx anything. I'm asking you to go deeper. You write with a lot of intelligence, but you're detached. Young Joan: The characters are supposed to be detached, especially the mother. Young Joe: But she wasn't always that way, was she? She was somebody's child once, somebody's lover. And she has cravings, fears, secret desires. I'm sure she even passes gas. Young Joan: Yes, she does, but she blames it on their new maid. Young Joe:[laughs] That's very good. I see I'm going to have to watch out for you. [she forces a laugh] I can be quite a handful, Professor. Young Joe: [rising from his desk] Don't ever try to put it on. You're charming enough just the way you are. [offers her a walnut] I wanted to ask you something. I was wondering whether by any chance you would be free on Saturday night. Young Joan: Yes, I am.

Classroom–Smith College.

Young Joe: The true writer, he does not write to get published. He writes because he has something urgent and personal that he needs to say. A writer must write, as he must breathe, and he keeps on doing it, despite the loneliness, despite the poverty, despite the piles of rejection letters, despite the parent or the wife who call out, "You fool. Why don't you get a real job?" A writer writes because if he does not, his soul will starve. [recites] "His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe, and faintly falling,like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."James Joyce.No more needs to be said. [Joan smiles intently]

10 Stockholm, Nobel Foundation, Reception Hall

Arvid: Excuse me, I hate to interrupt this wonderful exchange, but I'd like to introduce the Castlemans to another one of our laureate families. James Finch is getting our prize in physics. He's a brilliant man and nice as can be. Joe: Oh, good. Arvid: James Finch, may I introduce you to the novelist Joseph Castleman? James: A pleasure to meet you, Joseph. Joe: And you. James: I wish I could say that I'd read all your books. Joe: Well, I wish I could say that I understood all your formulas. Constance: I've read your books and, I promise you, they're a far better read than James' scribblings. James: My wife, Constance, is a scientist as well. As you can see, she's quite critical of my work. Joe: Well, my wife doesn't write, thank God, otherwise I'd suffer permanent writer's block. [recites] Joan: [offering her hand] Hello. I'm Joan. James: Hello. Joe: Joan is the love of my life. James: Let me introduce my children. This is Ellen. I'm counting on her to ﬁnd the cure to Alzheimer's just in time for my own dementia. Joe: My son, David, is a writer. He's developing quite a voice. James: Ah. Well, Sam is working in conductive polymers. Peter is interested in prime factors. And Chester, well, he's trying to disprove the string theory. It's a bit out of his league, but we indulge him.

11 Limousine –Day

Joe: David, do me a favour? Next time I introduce you, try a little eye contact. David: Sure. And next time, don't refer to me as your son, the half-baked writer. Joe: What are you talking about? David:"He's developing his voice"? What is that supposed to mean? Joe: It's a fact. You are developing your voice. And it takes a little time, just as it took me time to develop mine. David: No, it didn't. You had a hit novel right out of the gate. Joe: I grew up hard, my friend. You live a little, let's see what you come up with. You're not smoking in here. David: I can open the window. Joe: Forget it. It's zero fucking degrees out there. You shouldn't be smoking anyway. David: Yeah? And you shouldn't be stufﬁng your face with animal fat. Joe: What the fuck is the matter with you? Joan: Stop it now. Stop it, both of you. Joe: Are you pissed because we haven't discussed your story? Is that what's bugging you? David: I don't need to discuss something that you have been avoiding like some steaming pile of shit that I deposited on the desk. Joe: Hey, hey, hey, hey. I have read your story, okay? And my opinion is it's a solid start. But that's not what you wanna hear, is it? No, you wanna hear it's a breathtaking work of genius. David: That's not what I wanna hear. Jesus fucking Christ, Dad. Joan: Stop it. Joe: Don't... Joan: Stop it. Stop it. David: Such a prick. Joan: David, would you like to spend the rest of the day on your own? Joe: He's going to miss my lecture. Joan: David, would you like that? David: Yeah, I would. Joe: What are you going to do with yourself? David: It's Stockholm. It's a major European city. Joe: Shall I let you off here? Hmm? On the street? Would that do you? Gustav, would you pull over, please? ...... continued

12 Gustav: Okay, sir. Joan: I'm gonna give you some money. Do you know the way back to the hotel? Joe: You check in with us when you get back, okay? David: Yeah, sure. Thanks, Mom. [storms out slamming the car door behind] Joe: Jesus. Joan: It's not easy being your son, Joe. Joe: Oh, come on. It's not easy being anyone's son. Joan: You could act a little prouder of him. Joe: Or he could work a little harder. We wouldn't be doing the kid any favour telling him he's brilliant. Joan: I think he has talent. Joe: Yeah, well, you should tell him. Joan: It doesn't mean anything coming from me. He has to hear it from you. Joe: He shouldn't need my approval to write. Joan: Everyone needs approval, Joe. Joe:[scoffs] Yeah. Joan: These shoes are killing me. Joe: Here, come here. Come here. Give me. [takes off her shoes and rubs her feet] Joan: Joe, please don't thank me in your speech. Joe: What? Joan: I don't want to be thought of as the long-suffering wife. You understand that, don't you? Joe: No. I have to thank you. Everyone thanks their wife. If I don't, I'll come off like some narcissistic bastard. Joan: Well, you are. Joe: Oh, God. No, it'll be quick, Joanie. You know, one sentence. It'll be painless. Come on. Joan: No.

13 Flashback–Smith College Library. Night

Young Joe: Elaine, let me introduce you to Miss Archer, the promising young writer I told you about. One second. Excuse me. [to Joan] Joan, please. Excuse us. Joan, this is Elaine Mozell. Joan: Hello. Your prose is brilliant. It's clean and vivid and bold. Elaine: Thank you, but you know what? The public can't stomach bold prose from a woman. You're talented, I hear. Joan: Oh. Thank you. Yeah, I love to write. It's my life. Elaine: Don't do it. Joan: Excuse me? Elaine: You wanna know where your books will end up? Right there. On the alumni shelf. Go ahead, open it up. [she opens it] You hear that? That's the sound of a book that's never been opened. Don't ever think that you can get their attention. Joan: Whose? Elaine: The men. Who write the reviews. Who run the publishing houses. Who edit the magazines. The ones who decide who gets to be taken seriously, who gets to be put up on a pedestal for the rest of their lives. Joan: A writer has to write. Elaine: A writer has to be read, honey.

Present Time–Grand Hotel, Dinning Room. Late Evening

Joe: [to Linnea ] You wanna join me? Linnea: Mmm...no, I should go home. [whispers ] Go to bed. Joe: Is it still snowing out there? Linnea: Mmm-hmm. Joe: Then,uh, let me send you out with this. "His soul swooned slowly, as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe, and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead." Linnea: That's beautiful. Did you write it? Joe: [chuckles ] No. Linnea:[sees Joan approaching] Well, time to go. It's late. [she leaves ] Joe: [to Joan]I know. I know what you're gonna say. I'm killing myself eating all this fat. Joan: You will. [she sits ] What are we doing? Joe: [a beat] Listen, why don't we knock this whole thing on the head? Go and hole up in a cabin in a fjord. Drink ourselves silly. Howl at the northern lights. Hm? Joan: If only.

14 Grand Hotel, Lobby–Day Nathaniel: Mrs. Castleman. Joan: Nathaniel. Nathaniel: I'm not stalking you, I promise. But I do have something for you. I was gonna leave it at the desk. [an envelope] Just a little something I picked up at a bookstore at Smith when I was doing some research on Joe. Joan: [an old postcard ]Northrop House. That was my dorm. Nathaniel: I know. It's quite a bit before your time, but I thought you'd get a kick out of it. Joan: Thank you, Nathaniel. This is very thoughtful of you. Nathaniel: You've always been so kind to me in my aborted attempts at wooing Joe. I'd love to buy you a drink, if I may. There's a lovely bar close by, very 19th century. You can imagine Strindberg getting hammered in there. Joan: I don't know how appropriate that would be. Nathaniel: Well, it's completely inappropriate. But here we are in Sweden, it's the dead of winter. I don't think either one of us wanna be completely alone in our own brooding thoughts right now, do we? Old Stockholm Bar–Day

Nathaniel: I do actually have a confession. I have gotten an offer to write a book about Joe. I wanted to tell you so you don't think I'm doing anything behind his back. Joan: And is this going to be a scholarly work? Nathaniel: Mmm... Yes and no. You may as well know that I am aware of Joe's various [a beat ] indiscretions. Joan:[laughs ] Well, I'm sure you are. I can imagine it's very juicy material for a biographer. Nathaniel: You would think so, but, to be honest, it's a tad predictable. Most of your men of genius tend to have overactive libidos, and thanks to worshipful tomes put out by us biographers, we're all supposed to ﬁnd it charming and forgivable. [sighs ] I don't, actually. I ﬁnd that behaviour rather appalling. Joan: Well, please don't paint me as a victim. I am much more interesting than that. Nathaniel: [takes a breath] I know you are. [a beat] Look, I don't wanna make the wrong assumptions about your relationship. Now we have an opportunity to set the record straight. Joan: [laughs] You are so transparent, Nathaniel. I can't believe I let you lure me here. Nathaniel: Of course, you have the opportunity to leave, spend the rest of the day in some draughty museum of obscure Nordic art. Or we can enjoy these excellent drinks.

15 Nathaniel: All right, here's my next fascinating query. What does the Nobel Prize mean to Joseph Castleman? [both a little tipsy ] Joan: Oh, God. Nathaniel: Yeah. Ha, ha. That’s not mine. It's not mine. It's from the publisher. Okay, why don't I just use what he said to me on the plane? [mimicking Joe] "It's not about the prize. It's about getting up the gumption to write the next book." Joan: [laughs] Perfect. Thank you. Nathaniel: And what about you? How do you get up the gumption? Joan: To get up in the morning? Nathaniel: To write. Joan: I'm not a writer. Nathaniel: I beg to differ. When I was going through the Smith archives, I came across some of your stories that were published in the college journal. I read The Faculty Wife. Beautifully written piece. Joan: Thank you. I had some potential. Nathaniel: Ever regret giving it up? Joan: No. I had very low expectations about what I could achieve as a female writer. Nathaniel: There were plenty of successful female writers back then. Joan: Yes, but I didn't have the personality for it. I'm quite shy. I don't like to be looked at. Nathaniel: Okay, I won't look at you, then. So, what about Joe? Did he encourage you to keep writing? Joan: Yes, but, as I said, I didn't choose to pursue it. Nathaniel: Hmm. Because he was the writer of the family. Joan: Nathaniel, if you're trolling for nuggets of bitterness, you'll ﬁnd none here. Nathaniel: Shucks. Hmm. [takes another drink] Now, speaking of bitterness. I spoke to his ex, Carol. Joan: How is she? Nathaniel: She's good. She's a psychiatrist. Joan: Oh. Good for her. And their daughter, Fanny? Nathaniel: Successful dentist. Rest assured, Carol forgives you, by the way. Joan: Oh. I'm glad. Joe tried to keep in contact with them, I actually urged him to, but we feel very badly about that chapter in our life. Nathaniel: Well, she wants to make sure that you know how thankful she is that you took him off her hands. Joan, I hope you know that his affairs have nothing to do with you. It's a compulsion. I believe it's a deep-seated fear of inadequacy. Joan: Aren't you the therapist.

16 Grand Hotel, Castleman Suite–Evening

Joe: [door opening] Joanie? Joanie, is that you? Joan: Yeah. Joe: Where have you been? I've been worried sick about you. Joan: Why? It's only 4:30. Joe: Yeah, but look how dark it is already. Don't do this to me. Don't disappear on me like this. Joan: I didn't disappear. I went out for a couple of hours. Joe: So, what you been doing all day? Joan: Well, I walked around, went into a couple of stores, looked in a couple of shops. How did the rehearsal go? Joe: Joanie, have you been smoking? I can smell it on you. Joan: I went into a cafe, and it was filled with smoke. Joe: Ugh. Have you been drinking, too? Joan: Yeah, I had a vodka. Joe: In the middle of the day? Joan: Yes, Joe, in the middle of the day. Joe: You know, Joanie, you can't be doing this. You can't be showing up at functions with alcohol on your breath. Joan: You are the star of the big show, so why would anyone possibly care? Joe: What the hell has gotten into you? Joan: I don't like to be lectured to. I'm not a child. [looks at his clothes] Oh. God damn it, Joe. Are you gonna stop throwing your clothes all over the floor? I am so sick and tired of picking up after you. [later] Susannah: [on the phone] Hi, Mom. I had the baby. Joan: Oh, my God. [to Joe] Get on the other line. When, darling? When? Susannah: A couple of hours ago. Joan: Oh, my God. Are you okay? Susannah: I'm fine. He's making little mewling sounds. Joe: You had a boy? What are you gonna call him? Susannah: Max. Dad, I know you want me to say that he looks like you, but... Joe: Put the phone next to his ear. I wanna talk to him. Is he on? [Max cooing] Hello, Maxwell. It's your grandpa Joe. Joan: Hello, darling. It's your grandma. Hello. Welcome. You are the most beautiful little boy in the world. I wish I was holding you in my arms right this minute.

17 Grand Hotel, Bar–Night

Joe: You're a really gifted writer, David. But you know that. David: Thank you, Dad. I appreciate that. Joe: I liked your story. Well-constructed. David: But? Joe: Well, there's always a "but" with the ﬁrst draft. Come on. Do you wanna hear this? David: Yeah, sure, go on. Joe: Okay. Well, I don't completely buy what you did with the couple. The blowhard husband, the stoic wife with the repressed rage. We've seen it before. It's a cliché. I think you can do better. David: Jesus. Joe: Okay. It's all part of the process, David. It's painful. I know that. Writing can be fucking agony. Joan: Yes, darling, it's dreadful. You've suffered enormously. Joe: Time for bed, huh? [to David] I'm gonna take your mother upstairs. You enjoy yourself. Don't stay up too late. Joan: [to David] Night, darling.Call your sister. She'd love to hear from you. [they leave]

Grand Hotel, Bar–Night

Nathaniel: [to David] You know, my dad was a teacher at Yale. He used to make me recite the Iliad at dinner, in Greek. Joan: Wow. That's,that’s fucked up. Nathaniel: You haven't heard the half of it. And the really, really fucked-up thing is, he didn't understand a word of it. [David laughs] What are we drinking, David?

18 Publishing House, New York–1960s

Lovejoy: I have a writer who I think is the next Henry Miller. He's a hopeless drunk and will probably self-destruct in a few years, so I suggest we grab him now. Hal: All right, I'll give it a read. Lovejoy: [to young Joan] Honey, top me off, will you? White: I've a novel here by a lady writer. It's about an American family, spans three generations. It's great writing, kind of brilliant. But I thought it was a little soft. Hal: Soft? White: Well, it comes from the point of view of this woman. I don't know. It just didn't grab me. Lovejoy: Is she good-looking? Hal: How about Jewish writers? Anyone have any smart, young Jewish writers? All the big houses have one. Where the hell is ours? Joan: [to Hal] Mr. Bower. I think I may have what you're looking for.

Joe and Joan’s One Room Apartment, New York–1960s

[Joe’s first draft “The Walnut”] Joe: [excitedly] So, I walked to Harlem and back, I had ﬁve espressos, and I made my way through a pack and a half of cigarettes. Joan: You asked me to be honest. [a beat] I'm so sorry, Joe, but it just doesn't work Joe: What do you mean? Joan: Somehow it never comes alive. Joe: [defensive] The subject is too close to you. I should get a more objective opinion. Joan: Your characters are wooden, Joe. No offence, but you didn't make them real. Joe: That doesn't mean anything. Get speciﬁc. Joan: Well, for one thing, your dialogue is stilted. Let me see if I can get an example. Joe: Fuck this. What the fuck? Okay, this is not gonna work. Joan: What isn't? Joe: This whole thing. This love affair of ours, whatever you wanna call it. Joan: Joe, just because I don't love your novel doesn't mean I don't love you. Joe: How could you love me if you think I'm a hack? How can I be with someone who doesn't respect me? This relationship's doomed. What am I supposed to do, go back and teach English at some second-rate college? Since obviously I just blew it with the Ivy Leagues by screwing one of my students. Joan: I'm not just one of your students, Joe.

19 Stockholm Concert Hall–Night Dr. Ekeberg: You have given us a vast, restless and brilliant body of work. With each book, Mr. Castleman, you have challenged the novelistic form and reinvented the very nature of storytelling and of prose. You are a master of style, yet your characters are intensely real, their journeys heartbreaking, their portrayals intimate and deep. Dear Mr. Castleman, the humanity in your writing transcends the boundaries of class and gender. You are a master of words, but, more importantly, you are a master at portraying the human condition in all its complexities. I would like to convey to you the warm congratulations of the Swedish Academy as I now request you to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature from His Majesty, the King. Stockholm City Hall, The Blue Room–Night

Hostess: Your Majesties, Your Royal Highness, ladies and gentlemen. It is a great honour to introduce the Nobel Prize winner in Literature, Mr. Joseph Castleman. Joe: I'm deeply grateful for the honour you have given me. But really this honour should go... [sighs deeply] Really this honour should go to someone else. My wife, Joan. Joan truly is my better half. She's made it possible for me to ﬁnd the stillness, as well as the noise, to create my body of work. Without her, I certainly wouldn't be standing up here tonight. I'd be at home, staring at a blank piece of paper, my mouth open in stupefaction. My wife is my sanity, my conscience, and the inspiration for every decent impulse I have ever had. Joan, you are my muse, my love, my soul. And I share this honour with you [warm applause as the crowd rises] Grand Hotel, Castleman Suite–Night Joan: No, you had affairs. Joe: Oh, God. And I've regretted every fucking one of them. Joan: Oh, yeah, right, you'd sob in my lap, and you'd beg me to forgive you, and I always would because, you know, somehow you convinced me that my talent made you do it. And then when I was too angry or too furious or too hurt to write, you would give me one of your famous back rubs. Joe: What compelling ideas did you ever fucking have? You were nothing but a privileged, prissy little co-ed. The only decent story you ever wrote alone was about Carol. You stole from my life even then. Joan: Shame on you, Joe. Joe: You loved holing up in the Village with the big, bad Jew. You loved making your parents squirm. You got the literary life and the house by the sea. Hmm? You loved getting the nice clothes and the travel and all the privileges without ever having to marry some schmuck from a brokerage ﬁrm. You got it all, my girl.

20 Concord – Mid ﬂight to New York

[last lines] Flight Attendant: Would you like another, Mrs. Castleman? Joan: No, thank you. Flight Attendant: I don't know whether you remember me, but I served you on the flight coming over. Joan: I remember. Flight Attendant: You know, I see a lot of couples on my flights, and you and your husband.....Well, I just wanted to say that I could tell you were very happy. Joan: How? Flight Attendant: Just something about the way you were with each other. Oh, excuse me a second. [later] Nathaniel Bone would like to speak with you. Joan: Oh. Flight Attendant: Would you like me to tell him you're asleep? Joan: No, it's all right. Nathaniel: How are you doing? Joan: Nathaniel. Nathaniel: Yes? Joan: What we were talking about the other day... Nathaniel: Yes? Joan: I want to say that what you implied isn't true, and if you malign my husband in any way, I'll take you to court. Good luck, Nathaniel. I'm sure you'll write a fine book. [to David] Did you hear any of that? David: Yeah. Joan: When we get home, I'll tell you and your sister everything. David: Okay, Mom.

21 pathos a pore a nap a stud (6) depth(5) to probe lifespan to persuade to monitor to outlive inarticulate speciﬁcs gumption

1.______is to touch, examine or look for something, especially with a long, thin instrument

2.______is the power of a performance, description, etc. to make you feel sympathy or be sad (in writing, speech and plays)

3.______is not using clear words; not expressed clearly (of speech)

4.______is a man who has many sexual partners and who is thought to be sexually attractive

5.______is to regularly check something or watch someone in order to ﬁnd out what is happening

6.______are the details of a subject that you need to think about or discuss

7.______is the length of time that something is likely to live, continue or function

8.______is the quality of knowing or understanding a lot of details about something; the ability to provide and explain these details (approving)

9.______is one of the very small holes in your skin that sweat can pass through

10.______is a short sleep, especially during the day

11.______is to live longer than somebody

12.______is to make somebody do something by giving them good reasons for doing it

13.______is the intelligence needed to know what to do in a particular situation; initiative, resourcefulness. (old-fashioned)

22 to lure awed to wheedle prose a pest(2) to howl a tome to swoon to intrude wooden(2) rudeness vivid a spouse scholarly

1.______is a husband or wife

2.______is to persuade somebody to give you something or do something by saying nice things that you do not mean

3.______is to go or be somewhere where you are not wanted or are not supposed to be

4.______is an annoying person or thing

5.______is a lack of respect for other people and their feelings

6.______is showing or feeling respect and slight fear; extremely impressed by somebody/something

7.______is to be overcome with admiration, adoration, or other strong emotion

8.______is written language in its ordinary form, as opposed to poetry

9.______is having or producing very clear and detailed images in the mind

10.______is to make a long, doleful cry (of a dog, wolf, etc.)

11.______is connected with academic study

12.______is a large, heavy book, especially one dealing with a serious topic

13.______is to persuade somebody to go somewhere or to do something by promising them a reward; to entice

14.______is not showing enough natural expression, emotion or movement

23 Match the following idioms/phrases with their meaning on page 25

1. low-maintenance(adj)...... I'm very low-maintenance.– Only when he's asleep 2. to indulge (verb)...... It's a bit out of his league, but we indulge him 3. to reek (verb)...... You've been smoking pot. – No, I haven't. –You have. You reek of it 4. to stomach ...... The public can't stomach bold prose from a woman 5. in a league ...... It's a bit out of his league, but we indulge him 6. half baked...... And next time, don't refer to me as your son, the half-baked writer 7. to top up/off...... Honey, top me off, will you? [holds his coffee cup up to Joan] 8. to glad-hand...... Don’t apologise. I know he's swamped by glad-handers all the time 9. take it...... this is not a joke, I take it? 10. to conﬁde in (verb)...... Do you have anyone that you conﬁde in? 11. to wrap something up ...... Hal, please, get him to wrap it up 12. bully for you 13. pissed at someone...... Are you pissed because we haven't discussed your story? 14. an ungodly hour...... I am the one who called you at such an ungodly hour 15. eye contact...... Next time I introduce you, try a little eye contact 16. to fend off...... You should know that your husband will be fending off the press today 17. to grab someone...... I don't know. It just didn't grab me 18. put somebody on a pedestal...... They decide who gets to be put up on a pedestal 19. shot(to pieces)...... My memory's a little shot at, okay? 20. get yourself in a stew...... for years you've been sitting in a giant stew of resentment 21. to hole up ...... Listen, why don't we go and hole up in a cabin in a fjord,instead 22. a cheapskate (noun)...... Buy some nice wine, you cheapskate 23. get a kick out of ...... I bought you this book . I thought you'd get a kick out of it. 24. climbing the walls...... you're interested in sex just because you're climbing the walls 25. worried sick...... Where have you been? I've been worried sick about you

24 a. very early or ver late and therefore annoying b. feel frustrated, helpless, and trapped c. to suppose; to assume d. to protect yourself from difficult questions, criticisms, etc., esp. by avoiding them e. to complete something such as an agreement or a meeting in an acceptable way f. to say hello in a friendly way, especially when this is not sincere (esp. politicians) g. not needing much attention or effort h. a person who does not like to spend money i. in a very bad condition; destroyed j. a level of quality, ability, etc. k. to be too generous in allowing somebody to have or do whatever they like l. a situation in which two people look at each other’s eyes m. not well planned or considered n. very angry or annoyed o. to approve of something and be able to enjoy it; to enjoy being with a person p. to admire somebody so much that you do not see their faults q. to hide in a place r. a strong feeling of excitement and pleasure s. to tell somebody secrets and personal information because you feel you trust them t. to be extremely worried u. used to express admiration or approval: often used in a sarcastic/ironic manner v. to ﬁll a container that already has some liquid in it with more liquid w. to interest someone, or to make them feel enthusiastic x. smell strongly and unpleasantly; stink: y. to become/feel very anxious or upset about something

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25 Meg Wolitzer ( 1959–)

Meg Wolitzer is an American novelist, known for The Wife, The Ten-Year Nap, The Uncoupling, The Interestings, and The Female Persuasion. She works as an instructor in the MFA program at Stony Brook Southampton. Contents

Wolitzer was born in Brooklyn and raised in Syosset, New York, the daughter of novelist Hilma Wolitzer and psychologist Morton Wolitzer. Wolitzer studied creative writing at Smith College and graduated from Brown University in 1981. She wrote her ﬁrst novel, Sleepwalking, a story of three college girls obsessed with poetry and death, while still an undergraduate; it was published in 1982. Her following books include Hidden Pictures (1986), This Is Your Life (1988), Surrender, Dorothy (1998), The Wife (2003), The Position (2005), The Ten-Year Nap (2008), The Uncoupling (2011), and The Interestings (2013). Her short story Tea at the House was featured in 1998's Best American Short Stories collection. Her novel for younger readers, The Fingertips of Duncan Dorfman, was published in 2011.

She also co-authored, with Jesse Green, a book of cryptic crosswords: Nutcrackers: Devilishly Addictive Mind Twisters for the Insatiably Verbivorous (1991), and has written about the relative difﬁculty women writers face in gaining critical acclaim.

She has taught creative writing at the University of Iowa's Writers' Workshop, Skidmore College, and, most recently, was a guest artist at Princeton University. Over the past decade she has also taught at both Stony Brook Southampton's MFA in Creative Writing program and the Southampton Writers Conference and the Florence Writers Workshop. Three ﬁlms have been based on her work; This Is My Life, scripted and directed by Nora Ephron, the 2006 made-for-television movie, Surrender, Dorothy, and the 2017 drama The Wife, starring Glenn Close.

The Uncoupling was the subject of the ﬁrst coast-to-coast virtual book club discussion, via Skype. As of 2018, Wolitzer resides in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, with her husband, science writer Richard Panek. ©Wikipedia

26 Björn Lennart Runge (1961–)

Björn Lennart Rungeis a Swedish director and author. He was nominated for The Nordic Council Film Prize in 2006 for Mun mot mun.

Runge was born in Lysekil. He has worked in ﬁlm since he was 20, and has worked with Roy Andersson, amongst others. He graduated from the Dramatiska Institutet in Stockholm in 1989.

In 1991, he worked on the prizewinning short film Greger Olsson köper en bil, and in 2004, he won a Guldbagge Award for the best directing and script for the film Om jag vänder mig om. The film also won a Blue Angel at the Berlin Film Festival in the same year.

In 2006, he was nominated for The Nordic Council Film Prize for Mun mot mun with the producer Clas Gunnarson. The ﬁlm deals with a family in crisis when their daughter, Vera, comes home with Morgan, an old criminal. Her father, Mats, ﬁghts desperately to win his daughter back.

WEB LINKS https://youtu.be/7uKK2HHOwGw Glenn Close 4 mins https://youtu.be/f8IwX44an1A Jonathan Pryce 4 mins https://youtu.be/TvjhJW9xWmE Björn Runge & Annie Starke 5 mins https://youtu.be/eiR21OiJE58 Christian Slater 5mins https://youtu.be/_A6eF_tr4GI London Premiere 10 mins https://youtu.be/t6ORqD5-rEE Glenn Close Film 4 Interview 10 mins