Sunday, March 13, 2005

The Curtain Goes Up

The Curtain Goes Up

Yesterday I spoke to my dad for the first time since the day he came to see SSoB. And he said something about the play which is one of the nicest things that anyone has said about it. He said that "it was true". That it had made him think back to his group of friends when he was in his twenties. And I was genuinely touched. Because he wasn't saying it as a requirement of being my father, but because he felt it.

Lots of people have commented on SSoB, from varying perspectives, and it's the language of the play that usually crops up*. And I'm pleased, if a little shocked, that people find my writing "poetic". But I've loved it even more when people have said that they nearly cried. Because, ultimately, that's what you remember. I can still recall sobbing my heart out in the middle of a theatre watching Bent or the pounding and overwhelming feeling I get when I read the ending of Amy's View. I doubt I could recall immediately anything about the language. But the emotion. Yes. Which is why I responded to my dad's comments. I guess, unlike Pinter's famous declaration that it doesn't matter what is true and what is false, for me it emphatically does.

*Vikings cropped up once, but I'm not entirely sure why.

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