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112 pages
First published January 1, 1994
a: (Not friendly.) She was smarter than me .. no: brighter, two years younger.This is one from the slow-dawning revelation school of modern drama. Where the interaction and plot that evolves on the stage slowly becomes subtext to the overriding narrative coup being played, well above the heads of the characters, and at first, at least, of the audience.
c: (Smiles.) Or five, or seven.
a: What ?
c: Nothing.
a: She always got better grades, had more beaux—when we were growing up. Only then; she missed more boats than you can shake a stick at.
c: (examining her nails.) I’ve never shook a stick at a boat.
b: (dry.) Well, maybe you should give it a try. Shaken; not shook.
A a very old woman; thin, autocratic, proud.The beguiling nature of their relation arrives only in implication, in glitches in the otherwise naturalistic conversation. The play on paper can only hint at what needs to be a little string-ensemble piece, a constantly variable hum of pace, timing, and then pace-broken, only to reset the timing. A lovely thing to imagine, ebbs and flows surely only fully imaginable within the proscenium.
B looks rather as A would have at 52; plainly dressed.
C looks rather as A would have at 26.
The Boy 23 or so; preppy dress.
"They say you can't remember pain. Well, maybe you can't remember pleasure, either—in the same way, I mean, in the way you can't remember pain. Maybe all you can remember is the memory of it…remembering, remembering it. I know my best times—what is it? happiest?—haven't happened yet. They're to come. Aren't they? Please? And…and whatever evil comes, whatever loss and taking away comes, won't it all be balanced out? Please? I'm not a fool, but there is a lot of happiness along the way. Isn't there?" (107)A powerful, at times brutal and confrontational play about three women (apparently), one of whom (apparently) is dying. I loved the play's form, which (if you don't know of it in advance) you only discover in the second act. Albee wrote the play shortly after the death of his adoptive mother, with whom he had a complicated and by no means happy relationship. A great example of life feeding into art.