reminiscent of the moral perplexities that became the distinctive feature of greek drama, death and the maiden is an unabashed examination of the sometimes unexpected repercussions inherent in reconciliation with the past. set in post-pinochet chile, or rather, “a country that is probably chile but could be any country that has given itself a democratic government just after a long period of dictatorship,” this play is a scorching indictment of the lingering physical, emotional, psychological, and interpersonal effects of repression and state-sponsored violence.
ariel dorfman, expatriate chilean novelist, playwright, poet, and short story writer, has crafted a theatrical work of extraordinary import. rife with the thematic elements endemic to his works (memory, identity, deceit, loyalty, morality, brutality, culture, and gender relations), death and the maiden questions how a society can move beyond the atrocities committed by a totalitarian regime no longer in power. while the play has but three characters, its significance is of far greater consequence to the nation as a whole than it is merely to the lives of three of its citizens.
though there are, of course, no easy answers in how to best deal with the enduring traumas (of torture, rape, murder, and disappearance) that epitomize autocratic tyranny, dorfman bravely confronts the need to call such hideous actions to account. he does not, so it seems, seek a definitive answer, but, rather, takes an “important step toward healing a sick country,” by creating “a work of art that might help a collective to purge itself, through pity and terror, in other words to force the spectators to confront those predicaments that, if not brought into the light of day, could lead to their ruin.” indeed, and dorfman has done just that, with a singular work of stage that should have implications the world over.