108. Fam and Yam by Edward Albee

Edward Albee is most famous for his play Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf (see this blog’s post on the title here). Fam and Yam was an earlier piece, written in 1958 when Albee was completely unknown. It is a ‘young man’s play’ (in more ways than one), only a few pages long, written while Albee was still finding his feet in the theatre.

It tells the story of an encounter between two unnamed playwrights, a Famous American Man (‘Fam’) and a Young American Man (‘Yam’). Yam goes to Fam’s penthouse apartment to interview him and is impressed by its luxury: it has ‘white walls, a plum-coloured sofa, two Modiglianis, one Braque, a Motherwell and a Klein’. Yam begins by praising Fam, then tells him of an article he wants to write about the venality of theatre producers, the corruption of agents and managers, and the witlessness of audiences. Fam starts laughing. He encourages Yam to go ahead by all means. What he doesn’t realize is that Yam is suggesting what Fam might say in his interview, and in fact putting words into his mouth. All of these attacks are going to be presented as if they are by Fam himself. The penny finally drops when Yam phones him from the lobby. Then ‘[Fam’s] face turns ashen...his mouth drops open. One of the Modiglianis frowns...the Braque peels...the Klein tilts...and the Motherwell crashes to the floor.’

The play stemmed from an interview Albee did with William Inge (the author of Bus Stop and numerous other Broadway hits) in around 1958. Inge was then at the height of his fame and Albee was unknown: Albee, pretty clearly, was the ‘Yam’ of the title and Inge was the ‘Fam’. The interview was respectful enough but the play, written about the interview, was a different matter. It represented Inge as an insecure establishment bore (though ‘Yam’ hardly comes off better). Inge was deeply hurt, and wrote to a friend: ‘God, what a smug little creature he must be, to write as though perfectly assured about his own future prestige.’

But if Albee was perfectly assured, he was right. The 1960s were his decade, and Inge, abandoned by theatre-goers and overcome by depression, took his own life in 1973.

Consulted:
Gussow, Mel: Edward Albee: A Singular Journey (1999)