To Not Die the Death of a Rag Doll

It’s been a little quiet lately, hasn’t it? 

Three weeks ago today TPS hosted the Seattle whistle stop of the authors of Outrageous Fortune.  At the end of that day’s session our community received high praise from the panelists as being the first place where they heard such frank and open discussion among playwrights, artistic directors, and other theatre professionals in the room.  We all know, however, that talk is cheap, action expensive, and real progress almost prohibitively so. 

There have been, however, some positive steps, like Jim Jewell’s astoundingly succinct, yet imminently workable proposal for pipelining work from smaller local theatres to the big houses.  With his permission I posted it here.  I am also being told about subtle maneuvers being made behind the scenes to bring the right people in to a room together for a more private session.  (This, of course, presupposes that someone knows who the right people are.)  Also, rumors of another Stranger-hosted Shit-Storm toss about on the chill spring sound wind, though some doubt another such gathering’s potential to effect any real change.  Says former Seattle Weekly theatre critic,  John Longenbaugh:  “What exactly did all of those Sh*tstorms ever accomplish? Did any local theatre change its policies in any way? Did any playwright get produced as a result?”

Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.  The Shit-Storms have been little more than opportunities for blowing off steam.  Representatives from the Big Houses attend them about as frequently and enthusiastically as vegans visit underground cockfights.  I suspect that several of our entrenched artistic administrators viewed the Outrageous Fortune discussion as little more than a similar but mandatory appointment to act interested in the concerns of playwrights while intending to change exactly nothing.

There was an expression used in my family when I was growing up: “to die the death of a rag doll”.  Oddly, I have never heard it used anywhere else.  So a few years ago I wrote short essay illuminating the expression’s meaning and usage.  I share it here, in the hopes that our efforts to advance locally grown new plays and bring Seattle to its rightful standing as a world class theatre town does not suffer this uniquely miserable fate.

 

To Die the Death of A Rag Doll

I think I first heard the expression "[blank] died the death of a rag doll" from my oldest sister, and I have always suspected it was passed down to her along the well-worn matrilineal pathways of old Irish sayings, like "whistling makes the Virgin Mary cry" and "this place is filthier than Hogan's Alley" (don't ask, I don't know). Of course, I'm not really sure where my sister got it, although I am  certain that if I asked her, she would blithely swear that she has never heard of, let alone used, the expression in her entire life. (My sister's like that. Happy to encourage your suspicions of your own insanity.)

It is perfect really: the best idioms have sort of poetic shorthand about them. They not only say something in less words than it would take to do so straightforwardly, they add a touch of the ineffable to the description, so that strangely, beautifully, they say something that is effectively impossible to say else wise.

Of course, if I had to come right out and prosaically define it, I would say that a rag doll death is the slow passage into nonexistence of that which was once, however briefly, ardently embraced. You held her patchwork body to your chest every night as you feel asleep, and then one night, either because you got a nicer stuffed toy, or because it dawned on you that sleeping with dolls is stupid, you put her at the bottom of your bed instead of hugging her to you. From there to underneath the bed, dusty and forgotten, is just a few sad, small steps. One day, she just disappears. Maybe Mom throws her out or gives her to Good Will, but it is of no concern to you. You have not even noticed she is gone.

Once something ceases to be remembered, did it ever even exist at all?

Examples of things that can die the death of a rag doll:

• Plans to put in a vegetable garden this year
• Relationships
• The ability to fox trot
• New Year's resolutions
• Epic poems
• Flowers
• The commitment to learn another language or play a musical instrument
• Tropical fish
• Theatre
• The conviction that, on the balance, the United States of America is a good and just nation
• Crushes
• The ability to water ski
• Ego
• The four freedoms
• Inhibitions
• The certitude that you will one day be pleasantly famous for doing what you do best
• Black light posters
• Health
• Christ-like Christianity
• A taste for fruit-flavored wine coolers
• Sexual dynamism
• A superpower's promise to bring democracy to nation after invading it
• Bottles of Crème de Cacao
• Liberal good intentions
• A memorized list of the entire crew of the Argo
• Hopes and dreams
• Everything

Comments

[Tom Loughlin]

Interesting, Paul, but I always thought the phrase referred to something that appeared to have some reality, something that was thought to be alive, but never really was. A rag doll has the semblance of a person, but the "death of a rag doll" is the death of something that was never really alive to begin with. Perhaps it's really a question of semantics. -twl

[Noah]

Dude way to get all somber! Seriously though I like your red hot poking of theater executives and artistic directors. This blog has been, for me, a long standing place where I cam get a healthy dose of fury. That being said I some times wonder if the path toward a stronger local theater Really ends with some old dudes at Intiman and the Rep being like "oh shit you guys were right we should care about local artists, younger audiences, pushing the envelope...etc" The truth is I wonder if those execs have the aesthetic curiosity or even capacity to care.

[Paul Mullin]

Oh, trust me, Noah. I wonder the same thing. But here's the point I'm trying to make: these leaders do CLAIM to care. So either they do care and are incapable of making a difference or they DON'T care and are hypocrites. At this point in my life-- and as you know, I'm sort of an old dude now myself-- I have chosen to no longer ignore the incompetence and/or hypocrisy of the big houses.

They may well NOT be the key to making Seattle world class, but they do seem right now to be sitting smack in the middle of the road to Mecca.

I say to them, "Lead, follow, or get out of the way."

[Linda]

Dear Paul,

This is the first time I have googled the phrase, "Dying the Death of a Rag Doll." I was surprised to find that the only good response was yours. My mother who was French Canadian, said this all the time. I always knew what she was talking about when she said it. She passed away a long time ago and I have just now tried to figure out the real meaning. The way my mother used it was to refer to her own disappointment, disability, fatigue, etc. "I'm dying the death of a rag doll."

It meant her condition. She was always in a state of near fatality.

I think the remark by twl said it best, "'A rag doll has the semblance of a person, but the "death of a rag doll" is the death of something that was never really alive to begin with.'"

It is odd that this phrase emerged on two coasts. My mother was born in a little town on the border of Canada and the US. Although the town was in the US, it was a completely French town. No English spoken. I thought that maybe the origin was in the Frencgh Canadian language, but, now, I think it is more univerasl than I thought.

If you should learn more about the phrase, please share.

Thanks,

Linda Reese

[Nolari]

My mother used the expression too -- she was born and raised in the South. I've never heard it used by anyone else. Strange how phrases work their way into language; will this one die out with us . . .?