Elegy

by Nick Payne

What if every neuron in the human brain could be mapped and decoded? Every act of human behavior catalogued and wholly understood? Elegy imagines a very-near future in which radical and unprecedented advances in medical science mean that it's possible to augment and extend life.

Through the beautiful and moving story of three women who've made the choice between love and survival, Elegy explores a world in which the brain is no longer a mystery to us. But at what cost?

Nick Payne's Elegy premiered at the Donmar Warehouse, London, in April 2016.

Genres: Plays, Fiction, Drama

96 pages, Paperback

Published March 14, 2017

Reviews

[emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘—Because I wish I had met, we had met, I wish that we had met years ago. An age ago. It is unfair. It is so crushingly—And I feel a resentment, a great great resentment and an anger, an anger, in the pit of my, when I think about all the years I wasted not knowing you—And about all the years I won’t have to get to know you better—’

Fascinating, and thought-provoking play about the fragility and beauty of both mind and body/one’s physical self (and otherwise, vice versa). Haven’t read Anton Hur’s Toward Eternity yet, but while Payne’s play explores brain-related or rather brain-centred illnesses, I believe Hur’s leans more towards ‘cancer’. But I feel both (might/probably) go at it with a strangely similar impulse and attention — bioethics, ‘love’, mortality/immortality, etc. — being ‘human’ and what does it mean from a ‘scientific’, biological point of view and also beyond that. Right book, right time, I suppose. In any case, it makes me curious about Payne’s other work, and also makes me want to read Hur’s as soon as possible.

‘Loss of memory evokes a particular quality of fear, both for the person whose memory is fading and those close to them—However, it is seductively appealing to misrepresent the coherence of memory and to suggest there is a clear boundary between those whose memories are compromised by illness and those who enjoy ‘healthy’ memories. For memory is a slippery and mysterious phenomenon. We appear in photographs that prove our presence at events we don’t recall.’

‘As human beings, we navigate denial of our mortality and dread of illness throughout our lives. Within families, we have our own pathographies which cause us to dread specific diseases and fates. Yet, diseases that affect our capacity and memory prompt a unique type of apprehension. For what are we without our memories? Perhaps more significantly, who are we when our memories are compromised, diminished or lost? —In 2015, there were estimated to be over 850,000 people living with dementia. The Alzheimer’s Society predicts that if current trends continue, over a million people in the UK will have dementia by 2025 and over two million by 2051. Globally, it is thought that over 36 million people are affected by dementia and, of those, approximately 28 million are undiagnosed. Diseases that affect memory alter identities. The plural noun is important. For memories are embedded within our relationships, roles and communities. What we remember reflects who we are to other people. Our stories are informed by, and inform, the stories of others. We depend on each other as we develop our identities—And we, in turn, hold up the mirror of identity to those whose lives entwine with our own.’

‘We filter, sift, enhance, disregard, deny and emphasise moments in our lives to create a narrative that we package and repackage according to context and time. We are floored by the rush of unanticipated recollection on hearing a piece of music or smelling something that reminds us of times and people about which we have not thought for years. We wake shaken from vivid dreams that cast us back during sleep into a muddled mosaic of people, periods and places often overlaid with chaotic surrealism.’

‘—we negotiate and argue about our experiences: who was there, what were we wearing, was the weather really apocalyptic? We sort through the memories that each person offers to achieve a shared account. And, of course, the process of building the common story from the pieces of individual recollections is, itself, identity-forming and memory-creating.’

[Doug · Rating 5 out of 5]

Payne has an unerring ability to take complex scientific topics and principles and render them in fascinating dramatological confrontations (as in Constellations and Incognito. Here, he presents a complex tale, told in revers chronology, about a long married lesbian couple who have to cope with one partner's brain illness, and a new procedure which can save her life, but effectively erase her entire memory of their life together. Brilliantly realized; wish I had seen the original production. Extra points for providing three terrific parts for women over 50.

[Garrett Casper LaVeaux · Rating 4 out of 5]

Such a hard read or watch. To relearn who you are, to pave a new path. A fork in the road we never thought we'd see.

[Victoria Claringbold · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good play for older actresses. One mother, her daughter and the daughter's wife/lover. It explores ideas if identity, memory and love. Would you sacrifice your memories for physical health? Important questions and strong dialogue.

[Becky · Rating 4 out of 5]

(uni reading list)

a really poignant and effective read - we're studying this in our 'extending the human lifespan' week of a uni module and it raises some really fascinating questions about life!

[Fi · Rating 4 out of 5]

sad :(

[Charlie · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5

[tabs · Rating 4 out of 5]

i am so sad