……..

Grace was no expert in exclusive automobiles. Yet she recognized with no difficulty the sound of the vehicle that was rounding the corner, from Canyon Road at that very moment, alas, in Grace's memory the legendary purr of the Cadillac series C was inextricably linked with another rather less sophisticated sound. That of gunfire directed against her person.

…….

Father: I'm disappointed in you! I'm not gonna shoot anybody.

Grace: You shot at me before.

Father: Yes. I'm sorry, I regret that. You ran away. But shooting at you certainly didn't help matters. Of course not. You're far, far too stubborn.

Grace: If you don't want to kill me than why did you come?

Father: Our last conversation, the one in which you told me what it was you didn't like about me, never really concluded as you ran away. I should be allowed to tell you what I don't like about you. That I believe, would be a rule of polite conversation, you know.

Grace: That's why you showed up? And you call me stubborn? You're sure you're not here to force me to go back and become like you?

Father: If I thought there was a chance of forcing you, but of course that will never happen. You are more more than welcome to return home and become my daughter again anytime and I would even begin to share my power and responsibility with you if you did. Not that you care.

Grace: So what is it? What is it, the thing that you don't like about me?

Father: It was the word you used that provoked me. You called me arrogant.

Grace: To plunder as it were a God given right. I'd call that arrogant, daddy.

Father: But that is exactly what I don't like about you. It is you that is arrogant!

Grace: That's what you came here to say? I'm not the one passing judgment, daddy, you are.

Father: No, you do not pass judgment because you sympathize with them. A deprived childhood. And, a homicide really isn't necessarily a homicide, right? Rapists and murderers may be the victims according to you, but I call them DOGS and if they're lapping up their own vomit the only way to stop them is with the lash.

Grace: But dogs only obey their own nature. So why shouldn't we forgive them?

Father: Dogs can be taught many useful things. But, not of we forgive them every time they obey their own nature.

Grace: So, I'm arrogant. I'm arrogant because I forgive people?

Father: My God! Can't you see how condescending you are when you say that? You have this preconceived notion that nobody, listen, that nobody can't possibly attain the same high ethical standards as you. So, you exonerate them. I can not think of anything more arrogant than that. You, my child…you forgive others with excuses that you would never in the world permit for yourself.

Grace: Why shouldn't I be merciful? Why?

Father: No, no, no. You should, you should be merciful when there is time to be merciful. But you must maintain your own standard. You owe them that. You owe them that. The penalty you deserve for your transgressions, they deserve for their transgressions.

Grace: They are human beings…

Father: Does every human being need to be accountable for their actions?

Grace: Of course they do.

Father: But, you don't even give them that chance. And that is extremely arrogant. I love you, I love you, I love you to death. But, you are the most arrogant person I have ever met.  And you call me arrogant! I have no more to say.

Grace: You are arrogant, I am arrogant. You've said it, now you can leave.

Father: And without my daughter, I suppose?

Grace: Uhm…

Father: I said, without my daughter?

Grace: Hmmm, yes!

Father: well

Grace: yes

Father: Well, you decide, you decide. Grace, they say you are having some trouble here.

Grace: No. No more trouble than beck home.

Father: I'll give you a little time to think about this. Perhaps you will change your mind.

Grace: I won't.

Father: Listen, my love…power is not so bad. I am sure that you can find a way to make use of it in your own fashion. Take a walk and think about it.

Grace: The people who live here are doing their best under very hard circumstances.

Father: If you say so, Grace. But is their best really good enough? Do they love you?

Grace had already thought for a long time. She had known that if she were not shot when the gangsters arrived, she would be faced with her father's suggestion that she return to become a conspirator with him and his gang of thugs and felons, and she did not need any walk to reconsider her response to that.

Even though the difference between the people she knew back home and the people she'd met in Dogville had proven somewhat slighter than she'd expected. Grace looked at the gooseberry bushes so fragile in the smooth darkness. It was good to know that if you did not treat them ill, they would be there come spring as always, and come summer they'd again be bursting with the quite incomprehensible quantity of berries, that were so good in pies, specially with cinnamon. Grace looked around at the frightened faces behind the windowpanes, that were following her every step and felt ashamed of being part of inflicting that fear.

How could she ever hate them for what was at bottom merely their weakness? She would probably have done things like those that had befallen her if she'd lived in one of these houses. To measure them by her own yardstick, as her father put it. Would she not, in all honesty, have done the same as Chuck and Vera and Mrs. Hanson and Tom and all these people in their houses?

Grace paused. And while she did, the clouds scattered and let the moonlight through. Dogville underwent another of those little changes of light. It was if the light, previously, so merciful and faint finally refused to cover up for the town any longer.

Suddenly, you could no longer imagine a berry that would appear one day on a gooseberry bush but only see the thorn that was there right now. The light now penetrated every unevenness and flaw in the buildings and in…the people! And all of a sudden she knew the answer to her question all to well.

f she had acted like them, she could not have defended a single one of her actions and could not have condemned them harshly enough. It was as if her sorrow and pain finally assumed their rightful place. No! What they had done was not good enough. And if one had the power to put it to rights, it was one's duty to do so for the sake of other towns. For the sake of humanity. And not least, for the sake of the human being that was Grace herself.

Grace: If I went back and became your daughter again when would I be given the power you are talking about?

Father: Now?

Grace: At once

Father: Why not?

Grace: So that would mean that I'd also take on the immediate responsibilities at once. I'd be a part in the problem solving. Like the problem of Dogville.

Father: We can start by shooting a dog and nailing it to a wall. Over there, beneath that lamp, for example. Well, it might help, it sometimes does.

Grace: It would only make the town more frightened, but hardly make it a better place. And it could happen again. Somebody happening by revealing their frailty.
That's what I wanna use the power for, if you don't mind. I wanna make this world a little better.

………………….

If there is any town this world would be better without, this is it.

Shoot them and burn down the town.