Alexsei Tolstoy wrote a story for children called "The Giant Turnip". This one act play is a reflection on what happened after the story ended.
The Giant Turnip
By Vincent J. Schodolski
. 2006
Alexsei Tolstoy wrote a children's story called "The Gigantic Turnip" which deals with a farmer's dilemma when he grows a giant turnip that is so big that he can't pull it out of the ground. He enlists the help, in sequence, of an old woman, a young girl, a dog, a cat and ultimately a mouse to get the vegetable out of the ground. In the end the farmer and his helpers are seen sitting around a table staring at the turnip. What follows is a reflection on what happens next.
The Giant Turnip
A play in one act
Characters:
Farmer
Old Woman
Young Girl
Dog
Cat
Mouse
/////
A summer afternoon in the Russian countryside. Time could be the czarist era, or modern day. National character changes little. The players gather around a garden table outside a dacha. The giant turnip is on the table with a knife jutting from the side. All are seated in chairs at the table except for the mouse. He sits atop the turnip. As the lights come up, all the characters sit in silence regarding the huge vegetable. Finally the farmer speaks.
Farmer: We have a turnip.
(Lengthy silence)
Old Woman: Yes we do.
(Lengthy silence)
Young Girl: Why?
(All—including the mouse—regard the young girl with astonishment.)
Old Woman: Be quiet girl.
Young Girl: Why?
Farmer: Why what? Why do we have a giant turnip, or why should you be quiet?
Young Girl: Well, both actually. But my real question is in regard to the turnip. Well, more than just the mere turnip. Obviously we have a giant turnip. It is right there in front of us, so empirically its existence can't be questioned. And obviously we should ask why the turnip is so large. But we should also ask why we have this giant turnip, rather than the Kulikovs next door, or the Popovs across the road. Why us?
(The farmer and the old lady look at the young girl as if she is mad. The farmer turns to the old lady.)
Farmer: Can you cook this whole, or should I get the saw and cut it up first?
Old Lady: If I use the bathtub I might be able to cook it whole.
Young Girl: And do we have an obligation to share the giant turnip with our neighbors? Why should we have such bounty while they suffer with ordinary sized vegetables? And mainly potatoes and cabbages at that. Ordinary vegetables, not the glorious pleasure of a turnip. And are there laws that dictate our obligations as the possessors of the giant turnip?
(The dog emits a sigh and licks his genitals. The cat yawns. The mouse licks the turnip.)
Farmer: What can you do with a turnip besides boiling it?
(The old lady shrugs.)
Old Lady: My mother used to pickle turnips. (Pause) She told me my great-grandmother used to fight with my great-grandfather over their turnips. (Pause) She wanted to make turnip pie, but he wanted to use them to hunt for wild boar.
(Farmer looks confused)
Old Lady: He would shoot the turnips from a slingshot and hit the boar square between the eyes. (Pause) At least that's what my mother told me.
(Farmer laughs and nods toward the giant turnip.)
Farmer: We could take out a whole pack of them with this one.
(The old lady laughs)
Old Lady: Praise the Lord!
Young Girl: Well, I think anyone who uses the name of the Lord should feel an obligation to use this gift from God (gestures toward the turnip) for good. I mean there is no doubt that if someone (she glares at the old woman) believes in a higher power they would conclude that God gave us the giant turnip for a purpose and that we have a moral obligation to use the vegetable to serve his will.
(The dog farts. The cat moves slightly away. The mouse tries to bite into the turnip.)
Farmer: I'll bet old Konstentinov will be furious when he hears about this. (Laughs) He hates other people's good fortune.
Young Girl: That's another thing. Why are some more fortunate than others? I mean what did any of us do to deserve this giant turnip?
Old Woman: You consider this good fortune? That's all good and well for you to say. You don't have to deal with the giant turnip. All you do is talk about the damn thing. (Pause and then to the farmer) What if we sold it? I mean we might find someone who wants the whole thing, or we could sell it by the slice on the side of the road.
Farmer: Well...
(The young girl cuts him off)
Young Girl: So now we deteriorate to crass capitalism! Wonderful!
Cat: Do you believe this lot?
Dog: They're always the same. I'm just glad they don't know we can talk.
Cat: I mean eat the damn thing. What else are you going to do with it?
Dog: Kill wild boar.
Young girl: Well if you sell it, what are you going to do with the money? Tell me that!
Farmer: Buy some decent vodka for a start.
Old Woman: A new scrubbing board would be nice.
Young Girl: God gives us a gift and this is what you do? Peddle it on the side of the road and buy crap?
(Suddenly the mouse stands up on his hind legs and speaks)
Mouse: Have none of you read our history? Or Dostoyevsky? Tolstoy?
Cat: (Whispering to dog) The rodent is blowing it for us!
(The old woman screams at the sound of the talking mouse)
Mouse: What's so scary about Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy old woman? If you had read anything you would know that this giant turnip is simply our fate. Things happen because they happen. It's as simple as that. We got the turnip and the crowd next door did not. That's their fate.
(Awkward silence)
Mouse: Consider this. Two men are playing Russian roulette. They're drunk of course because who would play Russian roulette if they were sober. Anyway, let's call them Ivan and Igor, they pass the revolver back and forth spinning the barrel in turns, putting the gun to their temples in turns and pulling the trigger. They go on like this all evening, swigging from the bottle of vodka as they do. Fate dictates that this goes on and on. The loaded cylinder just does not line up with the barrel. Then just as Ivan puts the gun to his head for another pull of the trigger, neighbor Pavel walks through the door looking for a drink. Startled, Ivan's hand jerks just as he pulls the trigger. The bullet hits Pavel between the eyes.
(The mouse pauses. Everyone—including the cat and dog—stare off in deep thought.)
Mouse: So does anyone doubt fate? Pavel got a bullet in the head. You got a giant turnip. There is no essential difference.
(There is a collective nodding of heads and prolonged silence.)
Farmer: The mouse has a point.
(There is now a collective affirming sound, then more silence.)
Farmer: If you can make vodka from potatoes, I suppose you can make vodka from turnips as well.
As the lights dim everyone is staring at the giant turnip, except the mouse. He has managed to pry a piece off of the vegetable and sits cross-legged munching contentedly.
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