Ma Rainey Character Analysis

STURDYVANT: I don’t care what she calls herself. I’m not putting up with it. I just want to get her in here...record those songs on that list...and get her out. Just like clockwork, huh?

IRVIN: Like clockwork, Mel. You just stay out of the way and let me handle it.

STURDYVANT: Yeah...yeah...you handled it last time. Remember? She marches in here like she owns the damn place...doesn’t like the songs we picked out...says her throat is sore…doesn’t want to do more than one take...

STURDYVANT: Irv, that horn player...the one who gave me those songs...is he gonna be here today? Good. I want to hear more of that sound. Times are changing. This is a tricky business now. We’ve got to jazz it up...put in something different. You know, something wild...with a lot of rhythm.

(Pause.)

You know what we put out last time, Irv? We put out garbage last time. It was garbage. I don’t even know why I bother with this anymore.

IRVIN: You did all right last time, Mel. Not as good as you did before, but you did all right.

STURDYVANT: You know how many records we sold in New York? You wanna see the sheet? And you know what’s in New York, Irv? Harlem. Harlem’s in New York, Irv.

CUTLER is in his mid-fifties, as are most of the others. He plays guitar and trombone and is the leader of the group, possibly because he is the most sensible. His playing is solid and almost totally unembellished. His understanding of his music is limited to the chord he is playing at the time he is playing it. He has all the qualities of a loner except the introspection.

SLOW DRAG: Come on, let’s rehearse the music.

LEVEE: You ain’t gotta rehearse that…ain’t nothing but old jug-band music. They need one of them jug bands for this.

SLOW DRAG: Don’t make me no difference. Long as we get paid.

LEVEE: That ain’t what I’m talking about, nigger. I’m talking about art!

CUTLER: Slow Drag’s all right. It’s you talking all that weird shit about art. Just play the piece, nigger. You wanna be one of them...what you call...virtuoso or something, you in the wrong place. You ain’t no Buddy Bolden or King Oliver...you just an old trumpet player come a dime a dozen. Talking about art.

LEVEE: What is you? I don’t see your name in lights.

CUTLER: I just play the piece. Whatever they want. I don’t go talking about art and criticizing other people’s music.

CUTLER: Well, until you get your own band where you can play what you want, you just play the piece and stop complaining. I told you when you came on here, this ain’t none of them hot bands. This is an accompaniment band. You play Ma’s music when you here.

LEVEE: I got sense enough to know that. Hell, I can look at you all and see what kind of band it is. I can look at Toledo and see what kind of band it is.

LEVEE: See, I told you! It don’t mean nothing when I say it. You got to wait for Mr. Irvin to say it. Well, I told you the way it is.

CUTLER: Levee, the sooner you understand it ain’t what you say, or what Mr. Irvin say...it’s what Ma say that counts.

SLOW DRAG: Don’t nobody say when it come to Ma. She’s gonna do what she wants to do. Ma says what happens with her.

LEVEE: Hell, the man’s the one putting out the record! He’s gonna put out what he wanna put out!

SLOW DRAG: He’s gonna put out what Ma want him to put out

TOLEDO: See, now...I’ll tell you something. As long as the colored man look to white folks to put the crown on what he say...as long as he looks to white folks for approval...then he ain’t never gonna find out who he is and what he’s about. He’s just gonna be about what white folks want him to be about. That’s one sure thing.

The white man knows you just a leftover. ‘Cause he the one who done the eating and he know what he done ate. But we don’t know that we been took and made history out of. Done went and filled the white man’s belly and now he’s full and tired and wants you to get out the way and let him be by himself. Now, I know what I’m talking about. And if you wanna find out, you just ask Mr. Irvin what he had for supper yesterday. And if he’s an honest white man...which is asking for a whole heap of a lot...he’ll tell you he done ate your black ass and if you please I’m full up with you...so go on and get off the plate and let me eat something else.

IRVIN: Ma, that’s what the people want now. They want something they can dance to. Times are changing. Levee’s arrangement gives the people what they want. It gets them excited…makes them forget about their troubles.

MA RAINEY: I don’t care what you say, Irvin. Levee ain’t messing up my song. If he got what the people want, let him take it somewhere else. I’m singing Ma Rainey’s song. I ain’t singing Levee’s song. Now that’s all there is to it.

MA RAINEY: I’m gonna tell you something, Irvin...and you go on up there and tell Sturdyvant. What you all say don’t count with me. You understand? Ma listens to her heart. Ma listens to the voice inside her. That’s what counts with Ma. Now, you carry my nephew on down there...tell Cutler he’s gonna do the voice intro on that “Black Bottom” song and that Levee ain’t messing up my song with none of his music shit. Now, if that don’t set right with you and Sturdyvant...then I can carry my black bottom on back down South to my tour, ‘cause I don’t like it up here no ways.

MA RAINEY: They don’t care nothing about me. All they want is my voice. Well, I done learned that, and they gonna treat me like I want to be treated no matter how much it hurt them. They back there now calling me all kinds of names…calling me everything but a child of god. But they can’t do nothing else. They ain’t got what they wanted yet. As soon as they get my voice down on them recording machines, then it’s just like if I’d be some whore and they roll over and put their pants on. Ain’t got no use for me then.

MA RAINEY: If you colored and can make them some money, then you all right with them. Otherwise, you just a dog in the alley. I done made this company more money from my records than all the other recording artists they got put together. And they wanna balk about how much this session is costing them.

MA RAINEY: White folks don’t understand about the blues. They hear it come out, but they don’t know how it got there. They don’t understand that’s life’s way of talking. You don’t sing to feel better. You sing ‘cause that’s a way of understanding life.

LEVEE: It don’t matter what you talking about. I ain’t no imitation white man. And I don’t want to be no white man. As soon as I get my band together and make them records like Mr. Sturdyvant done told me I can make, I’m gonna be like Ma and tell the white man just what he can do. Ma tell Mr. Irvin she gonna leave...and Mr. Irvin get down on his knees and beg her to stay! That’s the way I’m gonna be! Make the white man respect me!

CUTLER: The white man don’t care nothing about Ma. The colored folks made Ma a star. White folks don’t care nothing about who she is...what kind of music she make.

STURDYVANT: Hey, Ma…come on, sign the forms, huh?

IRVIN: Ma...come on now.

MA RAINEY: Get your coat, Sylvester. Irvin, where’s my car?

IRVIN: It’s right out front, Ma. Here...I got the keys right here. Come on, sign the forms, huh?

MA RAINEY: Irvin, give me my car keys!

IRVIN: Sure, Ma...just sign the forms, huh? (He gives her the keys, expecting a trade-off.)

MA RAINEY: Send them to my address and I’ll get around to them.

IRVIN: Come on, Ma...I took care of everything, right? I straightened everything out.

MA RAINEY: Give me the pen, Irvin.

(She signs the forms.)

You tell Sturdyvant…one more mistake like that and I can make my records someplace else.

STURDYVANT: Well, Levee, I don’t doubt that really. It’s just that...well, I don’t think they’d sell like Ma’s records. But I’ll take them off your hands for you.

LEVEE: The people’s tired of jug-band music, Mr. Sturdyvant. They wants something that’s gonna excite them! They wants something with some fire! I don’t know what fellows you had playing them songs...but if I could play them! I’d set them down in the people’s lap! Now you told me I could record them songs!

STURDYANT: Well, there’s nothing I can do about that. Like I say, it’s five dollars a piece. That’s what I’ll give you. I’m doing you a favor. Now, if you write any more, I’ll help you out and take them off your hands. The price is five dollars apiece. Just like now.

STURDYVANT: I don’t care what she calls herself. I’m not putting up with it. I just want to get her in here...record those songs on that list...and get her out. Just like clockwork, huh?

IRVIN: Like clockwork, Mel. You just stay out of the way and let me handle it.

STURDYVANT: Yeah...yeah...you handled it last time. Remember? She marches in here like she owns the damn place...doesn’t like the songs we picked out...says her throat is sore…doesn’t want to do more than one take...

STURDYVANT: Irv, that horn player...the one who gave me those songs...is he gonna be here today? Good. I want to hear more of that sound. Times are changing. This is a tricky business now. We’ve got to jazz it up...put in something different. You know, something wild...with a lot of rhythm.

(Pause.)

You know what we put out last time, Irv? We put out garbage last time. It was garbage. I don’t even know why I bother with this anymore.

IRVIN: You did all right last time, Mel. Not as good as you did before, but you did all right.

STURDYVANT: You know how many records we sold in New York? You wanna see the sheet? And you know what’s in New York, Irv? Harlem. Harlem’s in New York, Irv.

CUTLER is in his mid-fifties, as are most of the others. He plays guitar and trombone and is the leader of the group, possibly because he is the most sensible. His playing is solid and almost totally unembellished. His understanding of his music is limited to the chord he is playing at the time he is playing it. He has all the qualities of a loner except the introspection.

SLOW DRAG: Come on, let’s rehearse the music.

LEVEE: You ain’t gotta rehearse that…ain’t nothing but old jug-band music. They need one of them jug bands for this.

SLOW DRAG: Don’t make me no difference. Long as we get paid.

LEVEE: That ain’t what I’m talking about, nigger. I’m talking about art!

CUTLER: Slow Drag’s all right. It’s you talking all that weird shit about art. Just play the piece, nigger. You wanna be one of them...what you call...virtuoso or something, you in the wrong place. You ain’t no Buddy Bolden or King Oliver...you just an old trumpet player come a dime a dozen. Talking about art.

LEVEE: What is you? I don’t see your name in lights.

CUTLER: I just play the piece. Whatever they want. I don’t go talking about art and criticizing other people’s music.

CUTLER: Well, until you get your own band where you can play what you want, you just play the piece and stop complaining. I told you when you came on here, this ain’t none of them hot bands. This is an accompaniment band. You play Ma’s music when you here.

LEVEE: I got sense enough to know that. Hell, I can look at you all and see what kind of band it is. I can look at Toledo and see what kind of band it is.

LEVEE: See, I told you! It don’t mean nothing when I say it. You got to wait for Mr. Irvin to say it. Well, I told you the way it is.

CUTLER: Levee, the sooner you understand it ain’t what you say, or what Mr. Irvin say...it’s what Ma say that counts.

SLOW DRAG: Don’t nobody say when it come to Ma. She’s gonna do what she wants to do. Ma says what happens with her.

LEVEE: Hell, the man’s the one putting out the record! He’s gonna put out what he wanna put out!

SLOW DRAG: He’s gonna put out what Ma want him to put out

TOLEDO: See, now...I’ll tell you something. As long as the colored man look to white folks to put the crown on what he say...as long as he looks to white folks for approval...then he ain’t never gonna find out who he is and what he’s about. He’s just gonna be about what white folks want him to be about. That’s one sure thing.

The white man knows you just a leftover. ‘Cause he the one who done the eating and he know what he done ate. But we don’t know that we been took and made history out of. Done went and filled the white man’s belly and now he’s full and tired and wants you to get out the way and let him be by himself. Now, I know what I’m talking about. And if you wanna find out, you just ask Mr. Irvin what he had for supper yesterday. And if he’s an honest white man...which is asking for a whole heap of a lot...he’ll tell you he done ate your black ass and if you please I’m full up with you...so go on and get off the plate and let me eat something else.

IRVIN: Ma, that’s what the people want now. They want something they can dance to. Times are changing. Levee’s arrangement gives the people what they want. It gets them excited…makes them forget about their troubles.

MA RAINEY: I don’t care what you say, Irvin. Levee ain’t messing up my song. If he got what the people want, let him take it somewhere else. I’m singing Ma Rainey’s song. I ain’t singing Levee’s song. Now that’s all there is to it.

MA RAINEY: I’m gonna tell you something, Irvin...and you go on up there and tell Sturdyvant. What you all say don’t count with me. You understand? Ma listens to her heart. Ma listens to the voice inside her. That’s what counts with Ma. Now, you carry my nephew on down there...tell Cutler he’s gonna do the voice intro on that “Black Bottom” song and that Levee ain’t messing up my song with none of his music shit. Now, if that don’t set right with you and Sturdyvant...then I can carry my black bottom on back down South to my tour, ‘cause I don’t like it up here no ways.

MA RAINEY: They don’t care nothing about me. All they want is my voice. Well, I done learned that, and they gonna treat me like I want to be treated no matter how much it hurt them. They back there now calling me all kinds of names…calling me everything but a child of god. But they can’t do nothing else. They ain’t got what they wanted yet. As soon as they get my voice down on them recording machines, then it’s just like if I’d be some whore and they roll over and put their pants on. Ain’t got no use for me then.

MA RAINEY: If you colored and can make them some money, then you all right with them. Otherwise, you just a dog in the alley. I done made this company more money from my records than all the other recording artists they got put together. And they wanna balk about how much this session is costing them.

MA RAINEY: White folks don’t understand about the blues. They hear it come out, but they don’t know how it got there. They don’t understand that’s life’s way of talking. You don’t sing to feel better. You sing ‘cause that’s a way of understanding life.

LEVEE: It don’t matter what you talking about. I ain’t no imitation white man. And I don’t want to be no white man. As soon as I get my band together and make them records like Mr. Sturdyvant done told me I can make, I’m gonna be like Ma and tell the white man just what he can do. Ma tell Mr. Irvin she gonna leave...and Mr. Irvin get down on his knees and beg her to stay! That’s the way I’m gonna be! Make the white man respect me!

CUTLER: The white man don’t care nothing about Ma. The colored folks made Ma a star. White folks don’t care nothing about who she is...what kind of music she make.

STURDYVANT: Hey, Ma…come on, sign the forms, huh?

IRVIN: Ma...come on now.

MA RAINEY: Get your coat, Sylvester. Irvin, where’s my car?

IRVIN: It’s right out front, Ma. Here...I got the keys right here. Come on, sign the forms, huh?

MA RAINEY: Irvin, give me my car keys!

IRVIN: Sure, Ma...just sign the forms, huh? (He gives her the keys, expecting a trade-off.)

MA RAINEY: Send them to my address and I’ll get around to them.

IRVIN: Come on, Ma...I took care of everything, right? I straightened everything out.

MA RAINEY: Give me the pen, Irvin.

(She signs the forms.)

You tell Sturdyvant…one more mistake like that and I can make my records someplace else.

STURDYVANT: Well, Levee, I don’t doubt that really. It’s just that...well, I don’t think they’d sell like Ma’s records. But I’ll take them off your hands for you.

LEVEE: The people’s tired of jug-band music, Mr. Sturdyvant. They wants something that’s gonna excite them! They wants something with some fire! I don’t know what fellows you had playing them songs...but if I could play them! I’d set them down in the people’s lap! Now you told me I could record them songs!

STURDYANT: Well, there’s nothing I can do about that. Like I say, it’s five dollars a piece. That’s what I’ll give you. I’m doing you a favor. Now, if you write any more, I’ll help you out and take them off your hands. The price is five dollars apiece. Just like now.