|Age Range(s)||Young Adult (20-35)|
|Type of monologue / Character is||Lamenting|
|Description||Lena tells her father what she thinks of him.|
|Details||1 hr into the film|
Lena tells her father how she feels about him.
Written by Lena Dunham
|You can understand me? Like hell you can. Mummy would've been able to understand me. Mummy found herself in the same situation I'm in in now, not once, but dozens of times with you. She always pretended not to know. You had a stream of women, but she just kept going. Not just for us children, but above all, for you. She loved you, and so she forgave you. No matter what happened she still wanted to be with you. But who were you? Who? That's what I always asked myself. You never gave anything, not to her, not to me, nothing. You gave everything to your music. Music, music, music. There was nothing else in your life, only music. And arrogance. Never a caress, never a hug, never a kiss, nothing. You never knew anything about your children. Never knew if we were happy, if we were suffering, nothing. Everything was on mummy's shoulders. At home the only thing you would ever say to her were two words: "Quiet, Melanie". And mummy would explain to us: "Quiet, daddy's composing", "Quiet, daddy's resting, he has a concert tonight", "Quiet, daddy's on the phone with someone important", "Quiet, daddy has Stravinski coming to the house later tonight". You wanted to be Stravinski but you didn't have a single drop of his genius. "Quiet, Melanie!" were the only things you knew how to say. You didn't know the first thing about my mother. You never bothered to take care of her. She was the strongest woman I knew. She deserved everything in the world, except you. And even now you haven't brought her flowers for TEN years. And then that letter. You think mummy never read it? Well you're wrong. She found it and she read it and I read it too. Well you probably don't even remember that letter, but we do. The letter we found in which you professed your love for another man. Mummy had to endure that humiliation, too. "My necessary experimentation in sexual matters" as you put it. So you're musical experimentation wasn't enough for you, was it? No, you had to experiment in homosexuality, too! And you didn't give a fuck about all the anguish you caused her. So don't you come telling me that you understand, because you don't understand a fucking thing.|