I read this in one sitting. Back when I had concentration. It was brutal, I didn’t like it one bit, and I followed it up with a good dinner, having spent the afternoon sitting in a cafeteria corner flipping pages. The film–even more brutal, like a series of terrible volleys, leaving me unable to breathe, and then there’s the space to pull yourself together, and then they jump in again, it’s horrifying, and required me to watch it over a period of three days–I just couldn’t bear the way it transported me. What’s fascinating is that it paints a picture similar to the state of America today–aren’t we fortunate that history repeats itself? A professor told me that if paid close attention I’d pick up on a reference to Spengler–I didn’t catch it–I know whereabouts it came, and I suspected it might be, but I wasn’t sure. There are some similarities to Taming of the Shrew however–who’s being tamed?
When there’s a great historical question, an event that has baffled minds for over half a century, upon which hinged the fate of the earth, and whose participants were famously esoteric about the whole thing, it’s natural that what we imagine took place would be fascinating. In reality it wouldn’t be. But, let’s say someone wrote a Tony Award winning drama about it, then it Would be interesting. Well, it isn’t. During my foray into armchair physics I found the name of this play as a speculative reconstruction of the last friendly meeting of Bohr and Heisenberg. Oh well, perhaps I only expect everything post-Albee to be Albeean–drama, which tends to be the only niche for the twists of old short stories, is perhaps falling the way of all New Yorker flesh. Boring. Implicated climaxes. Colorless. More mundane than any day of my week. I’m glad I read it, so I could take it off my Amazon wishlist. And I made a new friend. And it shows avenues of reading physics as philosophy that Dino and I had not yet considered, quantum philosophy rather than string philosophy.