The central character of Have You Seen Us?, South African ex-professor Henry Parsons, is a recovering alcoholic who has been attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings for 10 years, yet he continues to experience relapses. Notably, he displays addictive behavior in other spheres of his life, and his relapses are tied to moments of psychological stress, implying a link between Henry’s alcoholism and his psychology. For example, when Henry monologues to the play’s audience about why he continues to frequent the sandwich shop where Adela works despite her humiliating, contemptuous identification of him as a “borracho perdido” (lost drunk), he speculates that he is “addicted to humiliation” and compares that addiction to his alcoholism, a comparison that suggests Henry displays addictive or compulsive behaviors even when no addictive substances are involved. Moreover, Henry’s relapses coincide with moments when he is under psychological stress: for example, his adult daughter has offered to visit him if he can stay sober for a year—but he can only manage 10 or 11 months of sobriety before relapsing, and he essentially admits to Adela that he is sabotaging his sobriety because he is afraid of his daughter witnessing his broken-down life.
Similarly, Henry reverts to culturally prejudiced behaviors when under psychological stress; for example, after a bruising conversation with Adela, he has an antisemitic reaction to an elderly Jewish couple, Solly and Rachel. In establishing this parallel between Henry’s struggles with addiction and his repressed prejudice against the Jewish couple, Have You Seen Us? asks its audience to consider all the internal and external forces that cause a person to experience feelings of prejudice—and, in light of this, what capacity (and responsibility) a person has to overcome and correct prejudiced thoughts and behaviors. Henry’s bias against non-White characters can at times seem as innate and uncontrollable as the biochemical phenomenon of his addiction to alcohol: indeed, Henry elsewhere suggests that growing up in South Africa under apartheid infected him with deep-seated prejudices he can’t seem to shake. But by showing how specific, external situations (i.e., psychological stress) trigger Henry’s addiction—whether to alcohol, or to “humiliation,” or to prejudice—the play suggests that addiction and prejudice are also (at least in part) learned, conditioned behaviors. As such, a person has the power—and the social responsibility—to reject prejudice and choose empathy instead.
Addiction ThemeTracker
Addiction Quotes in Have You Seen Us?
Have You Seen Us? Quotes
Henry: So why was I in that crummy little sandwich shop? You tell me. Addicted to humiliation, maybe? Most likely. I know something about addiction . . . being one of Bill’s friends.
Adela: (Aggressively, as she makes his sandwich): Welcome back, my dear old borracho perdido. Sucio viejo borracho. You know that one, darling? I teach you. Yes, I like you so much you sucio viejo borracho perdido, I teach you speak my language. “Sucio” is meaning “dirty.” “Viejo” is “old.” Sí. There you have it.
Henry: I am, Adela, by common definition, an alcoholic: you were right, borracho perdido. Ten years ago my very beautiful wife—Loretta—delivered an ultimatum: “Me or the bottle.”
Adela: (Nodding her head in an “I knew it!” response): And you choose bottle. You got beautiful wife and little girl but you want bottle.
Henry: No! It’s not as simple as that! I wanted them. I wanted my family. So I tried! Believe me, I really tried. Every Saturday night in the basement room of a church in Gramercy Park in New York.
Henry: You see, my daughter Kate has told me that she would love to come and visit me, provided I could stay sober for a year. So what do I do? I get to ten, sometimes even eleven months . . . and then I hit the bottle again. But I’m not fooling myself. I know what’s happening. Do I really want her to come over and look at me, look at what my life is now? Even if I was sober, what would she see?
Henry: I get it now. When I first walked in here last Christmas and you saw another borracho perdido . . . and you saw Roberto. Right?
Henry: The monster had got a name, you know. Prejudice! That’s the name of the disease, my darling. And the symptoms are the same, whether it’s Jew or black or coolie, that you happen to be looking at . . . hatred and fear of anything that is different. It’s endemic to that beautiful country of mine. Like all decent liberal-minded men and women back there, I, of course, thought I had cured myself of it. Maybe others did. I hadn’t. I’m rotten with it.



