Three cheers for Grove Press btw, and all they great books they published over the years. For the most part I enjoyed this collection, although some of the pieces are clearly better than others. Pinter has a dry, clipped style that manages to be both emotionally direct and conceptually vague. A subtle sense of menace is often in the air as unacknowledged struggles for dominance are engaged in. Much of the conversation is superficially ordinary, but a slightly surreal disquiet is always lurking nearby. Pinter's work has a coldly passionate feel all its own.
The major piece here is the full-length play "The Caretaker." It concerns an old man named Davies (or possibly Jenkins), an irritating chap, constantly complaining and unable to get along well with anyone, full of racism and opinions. A quiet young man named Aston has befriended him and invited him into his dishevelled home. The older man is in need of work and a roof over his head. Aston's tough brother Mick shows up, and after giving Davies a hard time, offers him a job as a caretaker of a house. Aston, a dreamy fellow, turns out to have troubles of his own. Pinter does a fine job of making us feel the loneliness of these misfits in their attempts to reach out to one another. However, things do not end up going well - the point seems to be that people can dig their own graves by failing to recognize good things that come up and self-righteously refusing to examine or change themselves.
"Night School" is a surprise - a light, breezy, mainstream comedy about mixed up identities that was written for television. In it, a young man comes home from prison, to his spinster aunts' house, to find his bedroom rented out to a young woman. There are also two plays here that are dark, moody dramas about marriage and infidelity. In "The Lover", the most experimental piece in this collection, a husband and wife discuss their infidelities and some confusion results. In "The Collection", two couples (one of them gay, although this is not explicit) confront the issue of infidelity. A strange young man shows up and, oozing sarcastic hostility, confronts them with a story about a sexual encounter. A "Rashomon"-like situation develops in which each character's version of the truth is colored by his/her stake in the situation. Undercurrents of hostility criss-cross beneath a veneer of civilized respectability, and it becomes unclear whether we are in the realm of actuality or fantasy.