On the heels of the success of Edward Albee's The Collected Plays of Edward Albee, Overlook brings back--in a stand-alone volume--one of Albee's most cherished plays, a fantastic story of what it means to be alive--winner of the 1975 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. On a deserted stretch of beach, a middle-aged couple relaxes after a picnic lunch and converse idly about home, family, and their life together. She sketches; he naps. Then, suddenly, they are joined by two sea creatures, a pair of lizards from the depths of the ocean, with whom they engage in a fascinating dialogue. The emotional and intellectual reverberations of this bizarre conversation will linger in the heart and the mind long after the curtain falls--or the last page is turned.
Noted American playwright Edward Franklin Albee explored the darker aspects of human relationships in plays like Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1962) and Three Tall Women (1991), which won his third Pulitzer Prize.
People know Edward Franklin Albee III for works, including The Zoo Story, The Sandbox and The American Dream. He well crafted his works, considered often unsympathetic examinations of the modern condition. His early works reflected a mastery and Americanization of the theater of the absurd, which found its peak in European playwrights, such as Jean Genet, Samuel Barclay Beckett, and Eugène Ionesco. Younger Pulitzer Prize-winner Paula Vogel credits daring mix of theatricalism and biting dialogue of Albee with helping to reinvent the postwar theater in the early 1960s. Dedication of Albee to continuing to evolve his voice — as evidenced in later productions such as The Goat or Who Is Sylvia? (2000) — also routinely marks him as distinct of his era.
Albee described his work as "an examination of the American Scene, an attack on the substitution of artificial for real values in our society, a condemnation of complacency, cruelty, and emasculation and vacuity, a stand against the fiction that everything in this slipping land of ours is peachy-keen."
It's a Pulitzer Prize winning play by Edward Albee with shades of George & Martha from Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf but with more evident affection between the pair. A funny, often frustrating and in-depth dialogue about what it means to be human, the relationships we form and how they define us.
One thing that I learned from Albee from Seascape, was that he doesn't care. Compared to other playwrights, most notably Arthur Miller who always wanted to condemn society (and I don't blame him), Albee simply does not try to teach you an extraordinary lesson.
Seascape has a simple plot. I will not even try to explain it, for it is to simple and bizarre to put into my own words. Albee, especially in this play, reminds me of Franz Kafka. The metamorphosis, clearly correlates with this play. They both have non-human figures that share sophisticated intelligence, more than human think possible. Another common point is that every human is afraid of these monstrous creatures.
I give Seascape four stars mainly because it never backs down. It never tries to convince me that these sea creatures exit. Rather, Albee delicately writes as he is a journalist viewing this happening.
Sure this play may not teach you the meaning of life but you will have a very dramatic experience reading this play. This did not win a Pulitzer Prize for its meaning or doubt rather it won because of its imagination that is overflowing across the page.
PS. This may be linked to evolution but I’m not Albee….Even if it is does that take away from its credibility as an engaging play? I don’t think so.
I knew nothing about Seascape going in, other than that it was a Pulitzer Prize winning play. After the first act I thought I got it: a couple, on the verge of retirement, struggles with their relationship, their new roles in life, and the uncertainty of the future. But then I started Act II. In Act II the couple, Nancy and Charlie, meet another couple, Leslie and Sarah. Only Leslie and Sarah are two human-sized sea lizards. They are able to speak, but a lot of the human world is a mystery to them. Like Nancy and Charlie, they are also a married couple, who have had their children (well, hatched their eggs) and they too are at a turning point in their lives. They now feel that they are missing something and that under water life isn't enough for them, and they have ventured forth to find out what life on dry land is like. I think adding this twist made the play much more interesting for me, because while he touches upon a lot of ideas about relationships, communication and alienation, without the somewhat absurdist sea creatures I think it would have disappeared amongst all the other talky plays that touch on these topics. I found it very enjoyable and I wouldn't mind reading it again, or better yet, seeing it performed. I'd love to see what these giant sea lizards look like!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Perfect theater-of-the-absurd, by an American. The second act in particular reads like a candid examination of life, in all its forms, and the hopelessness of human consciousness. The futility of evolution, the strangeness of existence. Albee wins me over when he's really playful with language, and shines light on all those dark, troubling things which normally go unsaid.
This play was revived recently near me and I regret missing it.
I loved reading this play, but that is because I love plays like this. This is another fine example of Albee's mastery of dialogue, managing to be engaging while talking about a great many things (some of them quite weighty topics). Don't get me wrong, if you want a play where a lot happens, you will not like this play. But if you are like me and love plays that explore what it means to be human, then this play is definitely worth checking out. For me, it's up there with "Zoo Story".
The only Albee I know is Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and I only know that from seeing the movie and a performance of it.
(Hilariously, this performance was at the theater associated with the University of Chicago; and you could feel the audience gasp when they remembered that this emotionally-manipulative and -damaged couple was academia-related.)
When I TA'ed for a course on drama, I distinctly remember how amazing some student performances were compared to the words on the page. I mean, Lysistrata was amusing on the page, but was really hilarious when the students performed a few scenes from it.
So: reading this wasn't an amazing experience, but then reading isn't really what plays are for. That said, Albee's play starts with an older couple: she wants to keep living life, he seems like he just wants to vegetate. And they go back and forth like that for a solid chunk of time before anything actually happens. They aren't full of hate, like George and Martha from Virginia Woolf; they're just sort of... there.
Then, the thing that happens? It's two lizard-like sea creatures that come up--another couple--and the foursome ends up talking about a bunch of stuff. Some of this might be interesting on the stage, to an audience of straight play-goers; but when they start talking about what language differences they might have, any science fiction reader is going to be tearing their hair out. Not because it's wrong in any way, but because it's boring.
Only at the very end does the conversation seem to combine the high-minded with the deeply passionate, when the two couples talk about evolution, about change, about moving from the safe to the new.
But maybe the whole play would have that frisson of energy when performed?
Oh, Albee. I enjoy your bizarre and nonsensical plots and abrupt endings usually, but you got me so interested in this couple in the first act only to play around with your strange concept about fish creatures in the second act and never allowed me to come to any deeper understanding of the two human characters. Sure, I enjoyed your philosophical musings on what makes one human, but the best way to have showed that would have been to let us deeper into the tension between the married couple from the first act. Why did he love to swim out like that as a boy? Still, you won a pulitzer for this and I never actually saw it on stage, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt here that you knew what you were doing... still, fish creatures, really???
عادت همه آدم های ادوارد آلبی برای پرکردن خلأهای درونی یا شیرین کردن تلخی زندگی ایجاد توهمه. چارلی و نانسی با سئوالی رو به رو هستند که اگر کاری باید انجام شود تا با باقیمانده زندگی خود انجام دهند، چکار کنند؟ و جواب آن «چیزی» است. نمیدانند دقیقا چه؟ اما «چیزی» ادوارد آلبی می گوید زنده بودن وحشت ناک است، پس به زبان کودکانه و بدوی لزلی و سارا به ما میگوید که باید «چیزی» داشت. نمایش همه چیز داشت. مثل همیشه ادوارد آلبی از کاه کوهی ساخت و که بالا رفتن ازش نفسگیره.
Sort of a "Who's Afraid of the Sandbox?" Features a kinder, gentler version of George and Martha, whose bickering words, instead of having resentment under the surface, show love. In the second act, Albee breaks into absurd mode, and they meet some lizard people.
1975 Pulitzer: I can never get enough of Albee's married couples. Riddled with human subtlety despite the fantastical plot, this play is very different from the the dramatically realistic Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and A Delicate Balance. A must-read.
I liked the start of this play. Then it took a dive into “I’m pretty positive you have to be on some pretty serious drugs to find this entertaining and meaningful.” Since I was sober while reading, I was therefore not impressed. Not recommended.
Never take Albee for granted. Just when you think he's doing his conventionally brilliant relationship play stuff, he blows your mind. Bless his heart.
It's taking me a while to get into it. It's out-dated in the language and I think I'd like it better if I were in it or watching it. I'm gonna keep reading & see how it progresses...
A Genesis parable of sorts. Adam naming the creatures and explaining the functions of the world. Interesting approach to it. It might've hit 5 stars had the ending not been tied together as quickly.
For every brave ancient fish that climbed onto the land and figured out how to sprout legs, there are, demonstrably, millions that didn't: evolution seems to be the exception, not the rule, for most members of any given species at any given moment in history. This is where Edward Albee's play Seascape took me; I'm not at all sure that that's where Albee intended me to go.
In Seascape, a husband and wife--Charlie and Nancy--are alone on a beach, finishing up a picnic lunch and discussing lots of stuff, mainly what they're going to do next. Not next meaning right after the picnic, but rather next meaning now that their children are grown and beginning families of their own, now that they've accomplished the things they thought they were supposed to accomplish--what do they do now? In a nutshell, the two positions are: nothing (his) and something (hers). Though she's not especially able to come up with a specific and genuinely actionable suggestion, Nancy wants to go forward to some unknown but worthy destination, not remain inertly in the same place or, worse, regress, waiting in some retirement community for the end.
Their conversation is interrupted by the sudden appearance of another couple, Leslie and Sarah, who are younger but apparently just as conflicted. Also, they're lizards of some kind. Quickly, both couples understand that they can communicate with each other, and eventually they understand that the question facing each is precisely the same--to evolve, or not to evolve?
It's a weighty subject, but it somehow feels light-headed much of the time in this play; as I said, I was more aware of those who don't make the leap that progress seems to demand (either through conscious choice or, more likely, because it never occurs to them to change), and that kind of torpid thinking runs decidedly contrary to my usual impulse. Why did the secure, unadventurous alternative appeal to me here? Why did I think, as Charlie and Nancy try to encourage Leslie and Sarah not to return to their comfortable underwater home but instead to stake out new turf on dry Earth, that the humans ought to mind their own business?
Seascape, it occurs to me, is a play about midlife crisis. In America, at least among our privileged classes, it's entirely possible to be "all done" while still a vigorous 50-something: kids all grown up, house paid for, retirement secure. I think the questions that Charlie and Nancy are asking themselves have to do with finding purpose beyond the obvious and ordained: if we can scale a higher mountain, shouldn't we? Mustn't we?
Loved this. Had no clue it received the Pulitzer in 1975, but I can see the beauty of this play and I’m curious to know what it would be like to see it on stage. This play starts off realistically enough (albeit in a very minimalistic setting reminiscent of Waiting for Godot) where a married couple discuss/bicker about what they should do now that they are retired. They have met all their objectives in life and now life can be anything they want it to be. They can’t agree on wanting the same things, but Nancy’s desire for escape seems more appealing. Although, in a way, Charlie is also seeking escape–just in slightly different terms. Both of them try to hold on to youthfulness and in a way suggest that there is infinite time that they can explore their post-retirement lives. Until, another seemingly married couple of human sized lizards stumbles upon them. Their conversations are simultaneously deep but hilarious. The mammaries discussion had me dying. Nancy is of course a sweetheart, as is Sarah and the men keep trying to rationalize about everything, which only leads to way more confusion. Both couples in a sense crave a sort of escape–a break from the monotony of life as they know it, not quite certain that that break that they are talking about is well…death…I don’t know if I’m smart enough for this play but it was a delight to read and that is fine with me. I want more of these two couples. It all sounds like a cartoon for adults--and it is.