It’s all in the name

As part of our attempt to fill in the time when our travels have come to a grinding halt, the theatre is always a nice escape. Hence, on Saturday, 26 June we decided to go to the Bristol Old Vic to see a student rendition of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible.

As John Proctor raged on the stage about Salem heading to hell through vengeance and deceit, it was easy to mistake the dark and stuffy (and adequately named ‘Old’ Vic) theatre of undergoing a similar struggle. Gripped by the drama and barely able to move because of the stifling heat, it did indeed, at times, feel like the flames of hell were about to engulf everyone and everything.

The play, lasting well over three hours, left us nearly inconsolable at the injustice taking place right before our eyes and the knowledge that the allegorical beauty of the play lay not only in its allusion to the McCarthy era and the hounding of socialists, but on a more global scale of lies we are fed by politicians on a daily basis, with too few people being brave enough to stand up for what they really believe in. The resonance of the play has filled me with a strong desire to tour the country in search of each and every Arthur Miller production because I have yet to see/read anything of his which has not made me want to cry and become a better person.

For now, though, our touring will take us to Cornwall next week and my quest to become a better person has already started by trying to make my fleeting thoughts more permanent.

Best quote: ‘Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!’



About hombremediocre

Publisher, bibliophile, writer, traveller and general culture aficionado. (My favourite punctuation mark is the em dash.)
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