The Sandbox

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

When Mommy asks what Daddy thinks, Daddy has been trained to reaffirm Mommy’s authority. Mommy is happy with his lack of independent thoughts or beliefs, only becoming frustrated when he acts like an entity with feelings, needs, and questions.

“All right now; let’s get on with it.”

Mommy’s approach to her mother’s death and funeral is very unemotional and matter of fact. In real life, dealing with grief from the loss of a loved one is an ongoing process, one that stretches around and beyond the practicalities of death and funerals. But Mommy’s grieving process is a well-ordered system, a ritual she performs in a certain progression that ends with acceptance and moving on.

“Of course, whatever I say.”

When Mommy asks her husband questions, they are rhetorical. She has no interest in a genuine answer. But the rhythm of conversation is imperative to their performance as a married couple. So she responds to his empty affirmations with her own empty affirmations.

“What do you mean, what do we do now? We go over there and sit down, of course.”

Mommy has structured everything surrounding her mother’s death and funeral. The fact that Grandma has not yet died isn’t a deterrent to Mommy’s determination to see the event move forward from start to finish. Therefore, they take their seats to wait for the funeral in a ghoulish deathwatch that has relegated Grandma to the grave prematurely.

“Do you think… do you think she’s… comfortable?”

Daddy’s question about Grandma’s comfort is uncharacteristically adult. It shows an understanding of death and dying, as “comfortable” is a concept that is typically prioritized when there are no medical avenues for recovery. Daddy’s question also attributes adult importance to the inner life that Grandma is experiencing but cannot vocalize. Mommy responds with annoyance as she neither wants to humanize her dying mother nor validate her husband’s independent thought.

“Well, you can talk, if you want to… if you can think of anything to say… if you can think of anything new.”

As they sit and wait for Grandma to die, Daddy wonders if they ought to pass the time with conversation. Mommy’s response is almost cartoonishly cruel, highlighting their relationship as a satirical interpretation of the stereotypical bad marriage trope, in which husband and wife no longer have anything to say to each other.

“Be quiet, Grandma… just be quiet, and wait. […] She’s throwing sand at me! You stop that, Grandma; you stop throwing sand at Mommy!”

Left alone in the sandbox and unable to speak, Grandma tries to get Mommy’s attention using the tactics of a baby. She screams wordlessly, bangs on the pail, and finally throws sand at her, but Mommy scolds her, treating her like a misbehaving toddler rather than her dying mother. By calling her Grandma and then referring to herself as Mommy, Mommy expresses the strange dichotomy in which she sees Grandma as both her mother and her child.

“Don’t look at her. Just… sit here… be very still… and wait.”

Mommy is waiting for Grandma to die so she can go on with the funeral and be done with it. But she acts like a neglectful mother who is hoping that her petulant child will stop misbehaving if no one gives her the attention she’s seeking. When Grandma begins speaking to the audience because Mommy won’t respond, Albee suggests that Grandma lost her ability to speak in the first place because no one would listen to her.

“Honestly! What a way to treat an old woman! Drag her out of the house… stick her in a car… bring her out here from the city… dump her in a pile of sand… and leave her here to set.”

When Mommy and Daddy roughly carry Grandma onstage and drop her into the sandbox, they treat her like a sack of garbage that needs to be removed from their house and car. They are manhandling her body as if she is already dead. The treatment of Grandma satirizes the poor treatment of elderly people, who are often dumped in facilities and forgotten when their caretaking needs become burdensome.

“There’s no respect around here.”

When Grandma makes this statement, her claim is affirmed by the fact that no one seems to listen to or hear her. She turns and repeats it to the Young Man, who responds with his characteristic smile, wave, and exclamation of “Hi!” (37). The Young Man doesn’t seem to understand, but he’s happy for the attention. Grandma is surprised but similarly happy to be heard by someone other than the audience.

“My husband died when I was thirty […] and I had to raise that big cow over there all by my lonesome. You can imagine what that was like. Lordy!”

Grandma speaks about her daughter with what seems to be a loveless disdain. Although she demonstrates that she can be warm and affectionate toward the Young Man, the way she describes her life and complains about Mommy suggests that she has always resented her. Notably, neither woman is as cold and emotionless in The American Dream. But based solely on the text of this play, it seems clear that Mommy’s need for authority and control, and with her unsentimental cruelty, are inherited from and modeled after her mother, who was the sole parent running a farm and household alone and who doesn’t express any fondness for her daughter.

“Oh… I’ve been around for a while.”

When Grandma asks the Young Man where “they” had gotten him (37), the Young Man’s vague, cryptic response suggests multiple meanings. Perhaps he doesn’t know where he came from, much like an adopted child might feel like his origins are blank. Additionally, perhaps he has been waiting since childhood for someone like Mommy and Daddy or Grandma to notice his existence and make him real. The statement also implies that the Young Man is somehow timeless and eternal, which is befitting of the Angel of Death.

“You don’t say… you don’t say. Well… uh, I’ve got to talk more… don’t you go ’way.”

Grandma is perplexed and fascinated by the Young Man, who doesn’t seem to have his own sense of identity. She has been addressing the audience and telling her life story and feels the need to continue, but also turns back to him after this statement to ask him more questions because she doesn’t want him to disappear. Of course, she doesn’t realize that he won’t go anywhere because he is there for her.

“They took me off the farm… which was real decent of them… and they moved me into the big town house with them… fixed a nice place for me under the stove… gave me an army blanket… and my own dish… my very own dish! So, what have I got to complain about? Nothing, of course. I’m not complaining.”

After her husband’s death, Grandma oversaw her own farm and household. Given the absurdism of the play, Grandma’s description of the conditions in Mommy’s house is both literal and unreliable within an unstable reality. To Grandma, being forced to give up the agency she had on the farm and become subordinate to the daughter she raised feels dehumanizing. She describes feeling kept like a dog while being expected to remain grateful. In part, Grandma’s anger toward her daughter is resentment toward herself and the betrayal of her aging body.

“Honey, do you play all through this part? […] Well, keep it soft; that’s a good boy.”

Throughout the play, although they don’t speak directly to each other, Grandma and Mommy are battling for control. When Grandma moved in with Mommy and Daddy, she was forced to give up control of her life, leading to an inability to control her voice and body. The Musician’s playing signifies the funeral that Mommy is dictating. It also makes it difficult for Grandma to be heard. By quieting the Musician, Grandma is asserting that she isn’t ready to be quiet.

“It was an offstage rumble… and you know what that means.”

By recognizing the sound as an offstage rumble, Mommy is meta-theatrically acknowledging that they are taking part in a performance with stagehands and technical cues. The rumble is meant to be recognized as a sound effect, repeating twice more and building in intensity to cue the sudden switch to darkness in which Grandma is supposed to die according to Mommy’s structured plans. Like the Musician, the rumbling evokes a sense of manufactured emotionality and suspense. This is the specifically regimented moment in which Mommy breaks down in tears.

“That’s right, kid; be brave. You’ll bear up; you’ll get over it.”

Grandma mocks Mommy’s crying and Daddy’s toneless comforting because while Grandma is working her way through her own impending death, Mommy is only focused on herself and her own grief. With Grandma present, it seems selfish for Mommy to make herself the center of attention while Grandma endures something much more profound and frightening. But in life, funerals focus on the grief of the living.

“I’m fine! I’m all right! It hasn’t happened yet!”

As Mommy wails, Grandma insists that she is still alive, and this moment of acute grief is premature. Since Mommy seems to be unable – or perhaps unwilling – to see Grandma, the line between life and death is blurry. Grandma is dead to Mommy because Mommy has turned away and stopped seeing her. Or perhaps Grandma is dead to everyone except the audience and the Young Man. The absurdity of life and death is that they aren’t so easily defined.

“Don’t put the lights up yet… I’m not ready; I’m not quite ready.”

In the darkness, Mommy weeps and Grandma is supposed to die. Grandma’s request to delay the lights seems like a plea for more time before death. But when Grandma announces that she is ready a moment later, the lights reveal that she simply needed more time to finish shoveling sand on herself. The image is silly, juxtaposing the way a child plays at digging with a toy shovel at the beginning of her life and the serious digging that occurs at the end of her life when she is laid to rest.

“Well! Our long night is over. We must put away our tears, take off our mourning… and face the future. It’s our duty.”

Mommy’s compartmentalization of grief into a specific moment that begins and ends abruptly makes her mourning seem disingenuous. Considering Albee’s feelings about his own mother’s coldness, this seems to be what the play is parodying. But this statement also comments on the endless cycle of life and death in which the experience of death is a constant that must be endured to continue living. The process of mourning often includes a public component in which the mourner is judged on whether their grief is adequate to constitute an acceptable level of respect for the dead.

“Lovely! It’s… It’s hard to be sad… she looks… so happy. […] It pays to do things well.”

Earlier, when Daddy asks if Grandma is comfortable, Mommy snaps at him that she doesn’t know. She avoids concerning herself with her mother’s feelings while Grandma is alive and unable to communicate them. As her daughter ignores her, Grandma is undeniably frustrated and full of angst. Now that she believes that she is looking at her mother’s dead body, Mommy sees her expressionless face as happy, justifying her own desire to move on without continuing to mourn. Notably, when Grandma does die at the end of the play, she dies smiling because the Young Man gave her the kindness that her family wouldn’t. But Mommy doesn’t see that smile.

“I am the Angel of Death. I am… uh… I am come for you.”

The Young Man’s awkward and amateurish line recital undermines a moment that is commonly portrayed as profound and awe-inspiring. As an actor, the Young Man has been cast in a role that requires a performance of something that is simultaneously theatrical and real. It’s a matter of life and death, and a singular unrepeatable experience in Grandma’s existence. But Grandma encourages and praises his performance. Compared to the cold precision of her daughter’s grief performance, the Young Man’s inelegance is charming.

“What I meant was… you did that very well, dear.”

When the Young Man kisses Grandma on the forehead, she is moved by this bit of affection, even though it is part of the role. This kiss of death is sweet from such a nice young gentleman, and she praises him as if he is a grandson rather than an immortal being who exists to usher people out of human existence.