In this new play by the Tony Award-winning playwright of Take Me Out, a fledgling (and upper-class) World War I-era publisher is trying to decide which work to choose as his imprint's first title. He has two manuscripts but lacks the funds to publish both. His difficult decision--whether to publish his lover's memoir or the novel written by his best friend--is further complicated by the arrival of a mysterious machine that produces pages predicting the future of the play's protagonists, affecting their lives and relationships in haunting and unexpected ways. The Violet Hour opened on Broadway on November 6, 2003, starring Robert Sean Leonard.
Richard Greenberg was an American playwright and television writer known for his subversively humorous depictions of middle-class American life. He had more than 25 plays premiere on Broadway, off-Broadway, and off-off-Broadway in New York City and eight at the South Coast Repertory Theatre in Costa Mesa, California, including The Violet Hour, Everett Beekin, and Hurrah at Last. Greenberg is perhaps best known for his 2002 play Take Me Out.
I saw "The Violet Hour" by Richard Greenberg in its only Broadway production around the same time as I saw Greenberg's more famous play and Pulitzer Prize winner "Take Me Out." While "TMO" is justly celebrated for its witty exploration of a famous baseball player coming out of the closet, "TVH" is better in my estimation.
It concerns recent college graduate John Pace Seavering (the name clearly seems to be a pun) and his dilemma on which one book he can publish in the initial offering of his new publishing house: a book by a white contemporary, modeled on Fitzgerald, and his secret lover Denis or a Black, older cabaret singer Jessie, also his secret lover. Both are desperate to have their books published because of how their books will determine how they will be validated by the larger world.
The first act mostly concerns John's complicated and hidden, both from the world and sometimes from himself, relationships with Denis and Jessie and their at times desperate need to be published, interrupted by his assistant Gidger who resents being taken advantage of and ignored by the others. At the end of the act, Gidger announces (HUGE SPOILER) that this machine recently sent to the office publishes books from the future, allowing these characters in 1919 after the Great War, due for a name change in twenty years, to see the future.
Greenberg take this science fiction premise to mediate on fame, identity, history and other weighty topics with some of the most beautiful writing you will find in a play since prime Tennessee Williams. A conventional reading might highlight on the play's illumination of free will vs destiny, but others, perhaps with more subversive readings, might point to how we, just as writers of history and biography, often flatten those around us so that they become tableaus rather than three dimensional beings with their own subjectivity. Some critics complained about the thinness of the supporting characters in the play, but John almost serves as the creator of the others in his power to decide who will and who will not get published. And Gidger's lament that he is barely a footnote in this story is the verdict on all our lives eventually, even the very famous except for a select few.
This play is overdue for a revival and definitely worth reading.
I especially like the metaphysical elements of this self-consciously clever historical commentary. It's 1919 in NYC, and the son of a publishing scion must decide which book to print as his first: that of his secret male college lover, now engaged to an heiress, or of his own current companion, an older woman of color who's a popular Jazz singer. When a mysterious printing device begins to spontaneously produce books from the future, the publisher realizes that time will deal them all stunning blows and extinguish even their brightest lustre. Such a secret to possess! (From the playwright better known for his "gay baseball hit," Take Me Out.)
I was really disheartened the first half of this, then the second half was so quick and so good that I wish it were three acts instead to really give all the development of the second act more room to breathe, so that it were a larger part of the story, cuz it was really the better part
This play covers some of the same metaphorical ground as Tom Stoppard's "Arcadia". It does not share, plot-wise, the same material, but rather the questions about foreknowledge, free-will, and whether anything we do can change what has been laid out for us. The play has been described by many reviewers as whimsical, and it is, but it is exactly that sense of lightness which gives this play its gravity. This is a good play for anyone seeking to discuss larger philosophical questions of how our pasts become our futures no matter what we do.
“You…in this light…and you love me…! It’s enough. It would be enough.”
My favorite play of all time, explores a unique concept without relying too heavily on its unnatural elements, instead choosing to focus on the characters and how their choices and morals affect one another. One of my favorite stories.
Interesting statement about knowing the future. If you know everything that will happen, will you change what you do? I like that it takes place in a publishing environment because I like to read. I also saw this play performed in Los Angeles, and so it does translate well into live text.
Not a bad play, for all in all. I directed this show a few years ago to fine reviews, and I think that had more to do with the play than it did with me.
An absolute delight from beginning to end with a central conceit that makes for a glorious surprise. The magical realism is a stylish choice and the characters are never simple. I also can’t overstate how a good title really elevates this play. I’ve taken one star off because the play simply isn’t gay enough.