The Pillowman

“Your name is Katurian Katurian Katurian?”

Katurian’s first name is the same as his middle and last—an instance of absurdist humor that mocks the police officers—and the audience—for trying to find meaning in his name. Tupolski’s incredulous tone points toward the absurdity of this name, breaking the fourth wall as the play comments on itself.

“He represents a bad father. He is a bad father. How do you mean, ‘represents’?”

Tupolski and Katurian have an extended debate about whether anything in Katurian’s stories “represents” anything else. Katurian insists that he doesn’t use any symbolism or figurative language—a denial intended to defend his plays against the charge that they are covertly “anti-state”—but Tupolski argues that regardless of Katurian’s intent as the writer, if a reader interprets a character or object as a representation of something else, their interpretation is as valid and real as Katurian’s intent.

“Well, I mean, you’re right, the idea is you should wonder what the solution is, but the truth is there is no solution, because there is nothing worse, is there?”

Katurian discusses his story “The Three Gibbet Crossroads” after reading it to Tupolski. The story poses a challenge, which Katurian seems to consider an innocently fun mind game, to try to imagine a crime worse than rape or murder. Katurian’s question is ironic (though he doesn’t realize at the time) because, of course, there are things worse than rape and murder, including the kinds of heinous crimes against children described in Katurian’s stories.

“But…I don’t understand what you’re trying to say to me. Are you trying to say I shouldn’t write stories with child-killings in because in the real world there are child-killings?”

This question, posed by Katurian to Ariel and Tupolski, exemplifies one of the play’s central questions, which is whether art imitates life, or life imitates art. Katurian sees his stories as mere reflections of life’s cruelties, while the officers see them as possible catalysts for cruel actions. The play  illustrates that neither view is mutually exclusive.

“They have loved you and tortured me for seven straight years for no reason other than as an artistic experiment, an artistic experiment which has worked. You don’t write about little green pigs anymore, do you?”

Michal writes these lines in a note to Katurian when they are still children and their parents are actively torturing Michal. The “little green pigs” from one of Katurian’s earliest stories are a symbol of the innocence that both brothers lose due to their parents’ manipulation and abuse. The symbol resurfaces again at the end of the play, when Michal attempts to reenact Katurian’s story about the little pigs in a final attempt to hold on to a childhood he never experienced.

“And the boy read that story, a story that could only have been written under the most sickening of circumstances, and it was the sweetest, gentlest thing he’d ever come across, but, what was even worse, it was better than anything he himself had ever written.”

In Katurian’s story “The Writer and the Writer’s Brother,” a fictionalized version of Katurian realizes that Michal is actually the more talented writer between the two brothers. Katurian believes that his stories are compelling and unique as a result of his personal trauma, but Michal suffered significantly more than Katurian ever did. In the story, Katurian romanticizes the idea that creativity is born out of pain. In reality, Michal’s trauma never affords him any benefits at all.

“My, really? No, you’re just being stupid. You can’t have an arse keep your spirits up, can ya?”

After being told he is going to be executed, Michal complains about his “itchy arse” as he and Katurian wait in the prison cell, speaking to his profound lack of understanding of the gravity of their situation. This is another example of McDonagh’s black comedy, which juxtaposes horror with humor. Michal’s innocence is funny here, but the fact that it’s funny and so out of place makes his circumstances seem even more tragic and unjust.

“And he was all made up of these fluffy pink pillows: His arms were pillows and his legs were pillows and his body was a pillow; his fingers were tiny little pillows, even his head was a pillow, a big round pillow.”

The Pillowman (the character) symbolizes the intersection of comfort and death. The imagery of the Pillowman’s physical appearance is intended to make him seem comfortable and appealing, especially from a child’s perspective. At the same time, the juxtaposition of death and childhood comfort highlights the cruelty children suffer at the hands of the selfish adults around them.

“Um, could you skip on to the end, please? This bit’s a bit boring.”

Katurian is in the middle of telling Michal a story, and Michal interrupts with this complaint just as Katurian is describing a young woman on the verge of suicide due to years of sexual abuse. Again, Michal’s lack of understanding is humorous in a dark way. It also contributes to the idea of Michal as a victim. Though he does murder two children, moments like these illustrate just how naive and childlike he really is. As a result of the damage to his brain, Michal lacks an adult understanding of emotions or morality. The fact that Katurian tells Michal this story in the prison cell also foreshadows Michal’s death, which Katurian will carry out using a pillow.

“Because you told me to.”

Katurian, in shock after realizing that Michal murdered two children, asks Michal repeatedly why he did it. Michal’s only answer is that Katurian told him to. Of course, Katurian didn’t intend to instruct Michal to kill anyone, but Michal interpreted Katurian’s stories as instructions. Regardless of Katurian’s intentions in writing stories about child murder, Michal, Ariel, and Tupolski all place partial blame on him. Katurian is forced to face the idea that his art has consequences in the real world.

“And he’s the hero! And I’m not criticising. He’s a very good character. He’s a very very good character. He reminds me a lot of me.”

Michal explains why Katurian’s stories inspired him to reenact them—the Pillowman’s job is to convince children to end their lives, and the Pillowman is the hero of the story. Katurian thinks of his stories solely as manifestations of his own experiences and intentions, but Michal shows him that the stories take on different meanings to others. It is this uniquely direct and literal quality that makes Michal’s character fit the “wise fool” archetype.

“When I was in here listening to you screaming next door, I thought this musta been kinda like how it was for you all those years. Well, let me tell ya, it’s easier from this side.”

Michal heard Katurian screaming from the interrogation room as Ariel tortured him, an experience he compares to the brothers’ childhoods, when Katurian would listen to Michal scream in pain every night. This is another surprising connection for Michal to make, which suggests he may be more socially aware than he often seems. The nature of Michal’s role as a “wise fool” is that despite (or perhaps because of) his lack of basic knowledge and understanding, he is sometimes able to contribute unique and valuable insight.

“It excused the two you murdered, why shouldn’t it excuse the two I murdered?”

Michal compares Katurian murdering their parents to his own murders. Of course, these are very different situations: Katurian killed his parents only to prevent Michal’s future suffering, and Michal’s victims were innocent children. That said, the comparison raises ethical questions worth considering—in exactly what circumstances should murder be excused? Again, Michal, as a wise fool, is oblivious to social norms that most people simply accept as facts of life, which lends him an ability to think unconventionally. This quote also foreshadows the revelation that Michal didn’t kill the third missing child, who at this point everyone presumes is dead.

“There are no happy endings in real life.”

This is Katurian’s explanation for why he never wrote any happy stories. It exemplifies Katurian’s view that art mirrors life. The pessimistic outlook also illustrates The Impact of Abuse and Trauma on Katurian.

“It isn’t about being dead or not being dead. It’s about what you leave behind.”

Katurian sacrifices his own life to keep his stories alive, revealing the extent of his belief in the utmost importance of art. In Katurian’s view, art is more valuable than life itself.

“No, no, that’d be silly, burning all of them. No. Just the ones that are gonna make people go out and kill kids.”

Michal’s view on censorship and the value of art contrasts with Katurian’s. Michal agrees with the authoritarian state that Katurian’s dark and gruesome stories should be burned—ironic in that Michal himself has murdered children because of Katurian’s stories. Taking no personal responsibility, he completely blames Katurian and his stories for the murders he has committed. In this sense, Michal’s character is a foil to Katurian. They both have extreme opinions, and juxtaposing the two views helps expose their merits and flaws.

“‘It’s not your fault Michal. It’s not your fault.’ (Pause. Crying) ‘Sweet dreams, little baby. I’ll be coming along soon.’”

These are Katurian’s last words to Michal. Not until right before Michal’s death does Katurian acknowledge that Michal is not fully to blame for his actions. This scene alludes to the remarkably similar scene in John Steinbeck’s classic novella Of Mice and Men. In Steinbeck’s novella, George is forced to kill Lennie to save him from a more painful death. The last thing George says to his friend is that he forgives Lennie, and he promises that the two will be together in the future.

“She mixed a little of her spittle in the dust and rubbed it over his eyes. He reported her to the police for rubbing dust and spittle in his eyes.”

This is a quote from Katurian’s story “The Little Jesus,” in which a little girl believes she is the second coming of Jesus Christ and tries to cure a blind man in the same way Jesus did in the Bible. McDonagh uses comedic effect here to highlight the absurdity of the girl’s actions, but the humor is juxtaposed with the tragedy of her fate. The little girl, who is punished for her innocently well-meaning actions, parallels Michal. At the end of “The Little Jesus,” the little girl dies because a blind man (perhaps the same one she tried to cure) passes over the grave where she is buried alive without seeing it. As the story is allegorical, the blind men represent both Michal’s parents and the authoritarian state, who abuse and punish him despite his innocence.

“Because I think, deep down, you’re honourable men.”

Katurian believes that Ariel and Tupolski will remain loyal to their part of the agreement, that they will save Katurian’s stories to repay him for his confession. The two officers torture and abuse Katurian and Michal for hours, but Katurian sees that they do it out of a genuine desire to protect children. Their motivations mirror Katurian’s own, as he killed his own parents out of a desire to protect an innocent child (Michal). The officers eventually execute Katurian even after learning of his innocence, suggesting that in the eyes of this totalitarian state, no one is innocent.

“Because I’m a good policeman. Not necessarily good in the sense of being able to solve lots of stuff, because I’m not, but good in the sense of I stand for something.”

Over the course of the play, the “good cop, bad cop” dynamic between Ariel and Tupolski reverses. Ariel calls himself “a good policeman,” and his actions reveal this to be true—he is compassionate and empathetic, at least compared to Tupolski. Despite inflicting torture and abuse, Ariel uses these tactics out of genuine care and desire to protect children. Ariel believes that excessive force can save the lives of innocent children, which adds another layer to the play’s exploration of the morality of violence.

“Fuck what your mum and dad did to your brother. Fuck it. I’d’ve tortured the fuck out of them if I had them here, just like I’m gonna torture the fuck out of you now too. ‘Cos two wrongs do not make a right. Two wrongs do not make a right.”

This quote from Ariel uses irony for comedic effect. Ariel tells Katurian that “two wrongs do not make a right”—that being abused as a child is not an excuse for being a violent adult—even as he promises to enact violence against Michal to punish him for his violent actions. The irony in this passage highlights the insidious nature of the cycle of abuse, suggesting that abusers are often unaware of their own roles in the cycle.

“I’m just tired of everybody round here using their shitty childhoods to justify their own shitty behaviour. My dad was a violent alcoholic. Am I a violent alcoholic? Yes I am, but that was my personal choice.”

Tupolski’s lack of awareness about his role in the cycle of abuse mirrors Ariel’s. Tupolski’s ignorance is so obvious that it’s not just ironic but also comical—another example of McDonagh’s dark humor. The viewpoint Tupolski expresses is selfish and foolish, but his naivete regarding his own personal misfortune also elicits sympathy. The irony and humor here illustrate the cycle of abuse, call into question the credibility of those in power, and add depth to Tupolski’s character, the culmination of which emphasizes the complexities of human behavior and morality.

“So he sees the deaf kid and he sees the train but he doesn’t run down to try and save him or anything like that, like a normal person would, ‘cos he’s close enough if he wanted to. What does he do? He does nothing. He does nothing but start making a little calculation on a piece of paper, just to amuse himself.”

Tupolski tells Katurian a story he wrote about a man who, from the top of a tower, sees that a boy is about to get hit by a train and intervenes from a distance. Like Katurian, Tupolski uses allegory to explain his experience. The man in the story represents Tupolski as a detective who takes more pleasure in orchestrating events and solving puzzles than in saving lives. In this way, he and Ariel are complete opposites, illustrating how the two characters have switched places since the beginning of the play, when Tupolski and Ariel were the “good cop” and “bad cop,” respectively. Tupolski’s need for control paired with his cold indifference to humanity also demonstrates the pitfalls of authoritarian governments.