I have been fighting myself to not write this. I lost the battle. I’m a writer, but I am not literary. I have written on economics, a little on epistemology, and a little more on ethics. My husband is the literary writer (with a literary sounding name: Lliteras).
As they say, there is no accounting for tastes–yet, we feel compelled to account for them, don’t we? I’m not writing about O’Neill because I want to convince anyone of my opinion. My position is more that of a witness on the stand giving testimony–”I know what the other witness said she saw, your Honor, but I saw the murder from a different perspective.”
I love O’Neill. Not everything he’s ever written. I haven’t seen every play he’s written, nor have I read them all. I’ve never seen a staged version of “A Long Day’s Journey.” I’ve seen the film directed by Sydney Lumet. It has occasionally popped up on TV and all I have to do is hear a bit of dialogue and I’m drawn into it. I hear the lyricism before I hear the words. It’s mesmerizing. If you are one who has said: “Men have trouble expressing their emotions. I wish men would tell me how they really feel”--this play’s for you. These men tell you what it is like to have been an actor, a merchant marine; what it’s like to be an alcoholic, a husband, a father, a brother, a son. Yes, the play has to be well cast and directed, but when it is…magic.
I’ve seen “Hughie” live–in the 1970’s. Too long ago to remember the specifics, but not too long to forget that I liked it. I also saw “Mourning Becomes Electra” on stage--unfortunately not long enough ago to forget. (It was the production, not the play per se.) And I saw “The Hairy Ape” directed by Leon Ingulsrud. I was fortunate enough to see 5 plays directed by Inglusrud. The most exquisite was “Moby Dick” (that he co-wrote) in which he cast a woman as Ahab–no really, it worked! Her performance was powerful. There aren’t enough superlatives. Live performances can be breathtaking in a way film can never be. But “live” is ephemeral. That’s the pity. All I have is words. (Pictures are also inadequate: http://thirdculture.com/leon/works/md(n).html)
Back to “The Hairy Ape.” (https://thirdculture.com/leon/works/ha.html) Do you know what it’s like to work in an engine room on a ship? I don’t. My husband does, but that’s another story. Even he doesn’t know what it’s like to shovel coal to keep the ship afloat. It’s got to be one of the closest things to Hell–the heat, the danger, the monotony, the pain. But this man–O’Neill’s hairy ape of a man–saw himself as the FORCE that made the oceanliner–that marvel of engineering–GO. He had this seemingly undaunted pride in his work–you know, pride in workmanship, that little expendable thing that the culture has been trying to strip from men for decades.
The only version of “The Iceman Cometh” I’ve seen is the American Film Theatre production with Lee Marvin–who was marvelous. And Greta Garbo was captivating in “Anna Christie.” It was her first speaking role. “Garbo speaks.” And when she did–and asked the barkeep for a whiskey–she was transformed from Garbo to some character. She was some woman at a bar, and I wanted to know why she had to have that drink. O’Neill casts a spell on me. I don’t know his source–whether it is sorcery or something more divine. It’s not something I cannot analyze or explain. All I have is words.
Thank you so much for your long and heartfelt comment. While I had fun venting my personal frustration, I truly believe we should always celebrate when art speaks to someone this way. His work doesn’t speak to me this way, but I’m glad it speaks to you. It’s so important to encounter stories that tell us we’re seen, we’re heard, we’re not alone with our joys or pain.
Tragedies can be uplifting when you view them from an amoral, aesthetic point of view. You appreciate how every part fits together. Of course they can also make you sad, but there's value in that.
This piece reads like a millennial trying to fit into noxious Gen Z positivity culture. This culture believes that negative emotions can always be avoided (there's a pill for that), sad people are bad people, and you should just fake happiness until you're actually happy. But there's value in experiencing negative emotions, and that's something tragedies can help with.
Ha! This is funny and smart. As a playwright, I do think that the mission of awakening audiences from the American dream is an obsolete one. It probably made more sense up through Reagan. But if you're still running that dream today a play is not going to stir you from it.
And there lies the rub. What speaks to you today might have been worthless if read/seen twenty , thirty years ago or might not resonate until years in the future. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true as in rereading a favorite book from ages ago and now wondering "what was I thinking?" It is finding and appreciating that sweet spot in time.
I am relatively neutral on O'Neil, as opposed to August Wilson, who I consider the great American playwright, and after this year am only missing two plays to complete his cycle of a play for each decade in The Hill District. (not seen in order....... you see them when you can)
This was an undertaking of extraordinary vision and commitment. I think unmatched in theater.
Appreciated this . I reread all of his other, shorter plays 6 of them on a 3 year cycle. Very glad he got away with it. A family could write his cycling depressions and perform it to better effect. Everybody is psychic all are actors, we and our living families could have a high thataway. I gave Electra good attn and cacked out. Wish i knew whst happened to the murderess.
I’m sorry?? So she needs ‘authority’ to have an opinion? Zelda clearly knows O’Neill, and theater, really well. She’s not allowed to write an article until, what, she’s published more books? Has her Ph.D in O’Neill Studies?
Great read. I'm hooked on this Substack. I read a lot that comes through my email, some I miss because of limited time. "The Republic of Letters" is one I never skip.
I have been fighting myself to not write this. I lost the battle. I’m a writer, but I am not literary. I have written on economics, a little on epistemology, and a little more on ethics. My husband is the literary writer (with a literary sounding name: Lliteras).
As they say, there is no accounting for tastes–yet, we feel compelled to account for them, don’t we? I’m not writing about O’Neill because I want to convince anyone of my opinion. My position is more that of a witness on the stand giving testimony–”I know what the other witness said she saw, your Honor, but I saw the murder from a different perspective.”
I love O’Neill. Not everything he’s ever written. I haven’t seen every play he’s written, nor have I read them all. I’ve never seen a staged version of “A Long Day’s Journey.” I’ve seen the film directed by Sydney Lumet. It has occasionally popped up on TV and all I have to do is hear a bit of dialogue and I’m drawn into it. I hear the lyricism before I hear the words. It’s mesmerizing. If you are one who has said: “Men have trouble expressing their emotions. I wish men would tell me how they really feel”--this play’s for you. These men tell you what it is like to have been an actor, a merchant marine; what it’s like to be an alcoholic, a husband, a father, a brother, a son. Yes, the play has to be well cast and directed, but when it is…magic.
I’ve seen “Hughie” live–in the 1970’s. Too long ago to remember the specifics, but not too long to forget that I liked it. I also saw “Mourning Becomes Electra” on stage--unfortunately not long enough ago to forget. (It was the production, not the play per se.) And I saw “The Hairy Ape” directed by Leon Ingulsrud. I was fortunate enough to see 5 plays directed by Inglusrud. The most exquisite was “Moby Dick” (that he co-wrote) in which he cast a woman as Ahab–no really, it worked! Her performance was powerful. There aren’t enough superlatives. Live performances can be breathtaking in a way film can never be. But “live” is ephemeral. That’s the pity. All I have is words. (Pictures are also inadequate: http://thirdculture.com/leon/works/md(n).html)
Back to “The Hairy Ape.” (https://thirdculture.com/leon/works/ha.html) Do you know what it’s like to work in an engine room on a ship? I don’t. My husband does, but that’s another story. Even he doesn’t know what it’s like to shovel coal to keep the ship afloat. It’s got to be one of the closest things to Hell–the heat, the danger, the monotony, the pain. But this man–O’Neill’s hairy ape of a man–saw himself as the FORCE that made the oceanliner–that marvel of engineering–GO. He had this seemingly undaunted pride in his work–you know, pride in workmanship, that little expendable thing that the culture has been trying to strip from men for decades.
The only version of “The Iceman Cometh” I’ve seen is the American Film Theatre production with Lee Marvin–who was marvelous. And Greta Garbo was captivating in “Anna Christie.” It was her first speaking role. “Garbo speaks.” And when she did–and asked the barkeep for a whiskey–she was transformed from Garbo to some character. She was some woman at a bar, and I wanted to know why she had to have that drink. O’Neill casts a spell on me. I don’t know his source–whether it is sorcery or something more divine. It’s not something I cannot analyze or explain. All I have is words.
Thank you so much for your long and heartfelt comment. While I had fun venting my personal frustration, I truly believe we should always celebrate when art speaks to someone this way. His work doesn’t speak to me this way, but I’m glad it speaks to you. It’s so important to encounter stories that tell us we’re seen, we’re heard, we’re not alone with our joys or pain.
Thank you. You're article led me to relive a number of wonderful theatrical experiences (and, of course, one or two that were less than wonderful).
(I meant "your article" not "you're article.")
(I meant "your article" not "you're article.")
Tragedies can be uplifting when you view them from an amoral, aesthetic point of view. You appreciate how every part fits together. Of course they can also make you sad, but there's value in that.
This piece reads like a millennial trying to fit into noxious Gen Z positivity culture. This culture believes that negative emotions can always be avoided (there's a pill for that), sad people are bad people, and you should just fake happiness until you're actually happy. But there's value in experiencing negative emotions, and that's something tragedies can help with.
Ha! This is funny and smart. As a playwright, I do think that the mission of awakening audiences from the American dream is an obsolete one. It probably made more sense up through Reagan. But if you're still running that dream today a play is not going to stir you from it.
And there lies the rub. What speaks to you today might have been worthless if read/seen twenty , thirty years ago or might not resonate until years in the future. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true as in rereading a favorite book from ages ago and now wondering "what was I thinking?" It is finding and appreciating that sweet spot in time.
I am relatively neutral on O'Neil, as opposed to August Wilson, who I consider the great American playwright, and after this year am only missing two plays to complete his cycle of a play for each decade in The Hill District. (not seen in order....... you see them when you can)
This was an undertaking of extraordinary vision and commitment. I think unmatched in theater.
Very true! An important part of how we experience art is what we bring to the moment, and what that moment means to us.
Agree with you about August Wilson. You’ve seen more of his than I, but he’s a not-miss for me.
Appreciated this . I reread all of his other, shorter plays 6 of them on a 3 year cycle. Very glad he got away with it. A family could write his cycling depressions and perform it to better effect. Everybody is psychic all are actors, we and our living families could have a high thataway. I gave Electra good attn and cacked out. Wish i knew whst happened to the murderess.
You write with no authority based on your one book …just spitting
I’m sorry?? So she needs ‘authority’ to have an opinion? Zelda clearly knows O’Neill, and theater, really well. She’s not allowed to write an article until, what, she’s published more books? Has her Ph.D in O’Neill Studies?
Great read. I'm hooked on this Substack. I read a lot that comes through my email, some I miss because of limited time. "The Republic of Letters" is one I never skip.