Throughout the play, Shaffer gives more and more detail about Alan’s intimate obsession with horses. When trying to analyze how exactly Alan became so disturbed, Dysart learns about how horses, religion, and love were introduced to his life. Scene 7 is one of the first scenes that demonstrate how Alan’s obsession is sexual. When Alan was younger, Dora told Alan that “sex is not just a biological matter, but spiritual as well” (Shaffer 28) and that “he might come to know a higher love” (Shaffer 29). Young children are extremely impressionable, so his mother’s teachings must have resonated with him. The audience also learns that Alan “was always mooning over religious pictures,” “kinky ones”(Shaffer 28) according to Frank. Frank is extremely against how Dora would teach Alan about religion and believes “it’s the Bible that’s responsible for all this” (Shaffer 27). Do you think that Dora constantly shoving religion down Alan’s throat and explaining the concept of “spiritual” love influenced his obsession? Is she to blame or was there nothing anybody could do to prevent the boy from becoming so troubled? Kelly Peterson
https://youtu.be/BDU-tcyBGOk I watched a re-enactment of Alan’s monologue from Act 1 Scene 13. I thought the actor did a very good job portraying Alan. He speaks very softly, coming across as conflicted. It is clear that he is struggling to explain his memories, as they are troubling to him. I also thought he varied his pause lengths very well, again emphasizing his emotional distress. The big difference between the written play and the re-enactment is that in the written play Alan is speaking into a recorder, while Dysart is listening to the recording: “Alan rises and stand directly behind [Dysart]... He never, of course, looks directly at the Doctor.” In the re-enactment, Alan is speaking directly to the Doctor. With this change, some of Alan’s struggles disappear, as well as a main idea throughout the play that Alan struggles to associate himself with his actions. However, I still enjoyed the re-enactment and found it engaging. Ella Petreski
When I was writing my first blog post, and thinking about the fact that Dysart opens the play by talking about the significance of the horse and removing the focus from Alan, I realized that this play is just as much about Dysart’s character arc as it is about Alan’s. Upon my first reading of the play, I was focused on Alan. I assumed that the story would follow the typical “troubled teen mellowed by sympathetic and wise adult” plotline in which there would be a moment towards the end where the teen would reveal what had wronged them, the psychologist would comfort them against all odds, and then an epilogue would come, bringing sunny skies and a refreshed teen with a big smile. When I got to scene 18 of act I, however, I realized that I was quite attached to Dysart, that his emotional well-being mattered just as much to me as Alan’s. This is the scene when he describes his troubles with his wife and his fascination with ancient Greece, when he expresses his vulnerable desires. “I wish there was one person in my life I could show. One instinctive, unbrisk person I could take to Greece…” (58). Dysart is just as lost as Alan, and his passion for Greek life comforts him the way horses comfort Alan. Dysart’s vulnerability highlights the message that Alan was trying to tell: all humans want in life in something they can passionately worship. From this point in the play forward, I realized I was rooting for Dysart just as hard as I had been rooting for Alan, which brings me to the question I want to pose. Who do you think is the main character? Who is the protagonist? Is there only one main character, one protagonist? - Gabi Sussman
Up until scene 25 of act 2, I didn't really sympathize with Dysart's character as much. However, once he revealed how he envied Alan's passion for something, it made me think differently. He felt bad about having to take away Alan's worship since that was all he really had, he began to express his own regrets with himself, saying "I shrank my own life" (81). This scene really demonstrates how unhappy he is as a result of settling without having any passions. I felt sorry for him because he seemed as lost and confused as Alan. They each have their own source of worship that they rely on, and it made the two characters seem not so different anymore. One thing that stuck with me was how Alan's mother seemed to give up on him. Considering she was the only family member who was religious, she kind of forced her views onto Alan. She eventually told Dysart how it wasn't the parents' fault Alan ended up the way he did, and it was because of the devil. Their parenting styles were very different, and the mother kind of sheltered and coddled him a lot, while his dad was more tough on him. Was his action as a result of his parents' influence? Was he too sheltered from the realities of the world to the point where he couldn't handle it?
The plot is picking up as it becomes clear what the climax of the play will be: Alan revealing what exactly transpired the night he blinded six horses with a hoof pick. As much as I would love to find that out, I must say that this play seems to be one that is really meant to be seen rather than read. On the page, these monologues and conversations about repression come off as overly cerebral. That’s not to say that the play is boring, but that as written the characters seem less like characters and more like mouthpieces for the playwright to philosophize from different sides on an issue. The “metaphoricalness” is still prevalent, but if these characters had more depth or nuance (something that an actor can bring to a live performance) I wouldn’t mind so much. I did really enjoy the rant Alan’s mom went on about Alan not being her fault. It reminded me of an excellent film We Need To Talk About Kevin, a movie that shares a similar story where a mother has to reckon with horrific actions of their son. While We Need To Talk About Kevin takes a more ambivalent final stance, here it seems Alan’s mom is taking a much more decisive position: Alan did horrible things not because of her own failed parenting, but because of some outside influence (“the Devil”). Who should take the blame for a kid committing horrific acts? Is it the parent’s fault, the kid’s, or is it out of anybody’s control? As the play winds to a close, I’m wondering how Peter Shaffer is going to be able to tie all of these seemingly disparate threads into a cohesive ending. Ethan Karas
Linked above is the 1977 depiction of Equus, Act II, Scene 25. Dysart’s actor depicts his character exactly as I saw him in my mind’s eye: existentially haggard, yet direct in describing his grief. The scene is where Hesther and Dysart discuss Dysart’s opinions on Alan’s case, admitting he feels envy for Alan’s experience with faith. The actor is soft-spoken to Hesther, supporting a potential romantic interest between his character and Hesther. This quickly grows pained, but calculated, with stress on the most self-damning words in his speech detailing his jealously of Alan Strang. While quiet and pained, he states “that boy has known passion more ferocious than I have felt,” his elaboration grows booming and relentless, detailing his life as “pallid and provincial,” failing to realize his much needed “fantastic surrender to the primitive” (81). The actor realizes the pain in Dysart’s final image, that of his wife, “a woman [he] hasn’t kissed in six years” compared to Alan’s experience “sucking the sweat off his God’s hairy cheek!” (81). The actor managed to breathe life into Dysart’s most critical lines that detail his personal crisis confronting his inner need for faith and self-realization. He hates the boundaries of his normal life, something that Hesther’s actress makes clear her character does not understand. - Patrick Ortiz
Throughout the play, Shaffer gives more and more detail about Alan’s intimate obsession with horses. When trying to analyze how exactly Alan became so disturbed, Dysart learns about how horses, religion, and love were introduced to his life. Scene 7 is one of the first scenes that demonstrate how Alan’s obsession is sexual. When Alan was younger, Dora told Alan that “sex is not just a biological matter, but spiritual as well” (Shaffer 28) and that “he might come to know a higher love” (Shaffer 29). Young children are extremely impressionable, so his mother’s teachings must have resonated with him. The audience also learns that Alan “was always mooning over religious pictures,” “kinky ones”(Shaffer 28) according to Frank. Frank is extremely against how Dora would teach Alan about religion and believes “it’s the Bible that’s responsible for all this” (Shaffer 27). Do you think that Dora constantly shoving religion down Alan’s throat and explaining the concept of “spiritual” love influenced his obsession? Is she to blame or was there nothing anybody could do to prevent the boy from becoming so troubled?
ReplyDeleteKelly Peterson
https://youtu.be/BDU-tcyBGOk
ReplyDeleteI watched a re-enactment of Alan’s monologue from Act 1 Scene 13. I thought the actor did a very good job portraying Alan. He speaks very softly, coming across as conflicted. It is clear that he is struggling to explain his memories, as they are troubling to him. I also thought he varied his pause lengths very well, again emphasizing his emotional distress. The big difference between the written play and the re-enactment is that in the written play Alan is speaking into a recorder, while Dysart is listening to the recording: “Alan rises and stand directly behind [Dysart]... He never, of course, looks directly at the Doctor.” In the re-enactment, Alan is speaking directly to the Doctor. With this change, some of Alan’s struggles disappear, as well as a main idea throughout the play that Alan struggles to associate himself with his actions. However, I still enjoyed the re-enactment and found it engaging.
Ella Petreski
When I was writing my first blog post, and thinking about the fact that Dysart opens the play by talking about the significance of the horse and removing the focus from Alan, I realized that this play is just as much about Dysart’s character arc as it is about Alan’s. Upon my first reading of the play, I was focused on Alan. I assumed that the story would follow the typical “troubled teen mellowed by sympathetic and wise adult” plotline in which there would be a moment towards the end where the teen would reveal what had wronged them, the psychologist would comfort them against all odds, and then an epilogue would come, bringing sunny skies and a refreshed teen with a big smile. When I got to scene 18 of act I, however, I realized that I was quite attached to Dysart, that his emotional well-being mattered just as much to me as Alan’s. This is the scene when he describes his troubles with his wife and his fascination with ancient Greece, when he expresses his vulnerable desires. “I wish there was one person in my life I could show. One instinctive, unbrisk person I could take to Greece…” (58). Dysart is just as lost as Alan, and his passion for Greek life comforts him the way horses comfort Alan. Dysart’s vulnerability highlights the message that Alan was trying to tell: all humans want in life in something they can passionately worship. From this point in the play forward, I realized I was rooting for Dysart just as hard as I had been rooting for Alan, which brings me to the question I want to pose. Who do you think is the main character? Who is the protagonist? Is there only one main character, one protagonist?
ReplyDelete- Gabi Sussman
Up until scene 25 of act 2, I didn't really sympathize with Dysart's character as much. However, once he revealed how he envied Alan's passion for something, it made me think differently. He felt bad about having to take away Alan's worship since that was all he really had, he began to express his own regrets with himself, saying "I shrank my own life" (81). This scene really demonstrates how unhappy he is as a result of settling without having any passions. I felt sorry for him because he seemed as lost and confused as Alan. They each have their own source of worship that they rely on, and it made the two characters seem not so different anymore.
ReplyDeleteOne thing that stuck with me was how Alan's mother seemed to give up on him. Considering she was the only family member who was religious, she kind of forced her views onto Alan. She eventually told Dysart how it wasn't the parents' fault Alan ended up the way he did, and it was because of the devil. Their parenting styles were very different, and the mother kind of sheltered and coddled him a lot, while his dad was more tough on him. Was his action as a result of his parents' influence? Was he too sheltered from the realities of the world to the point where he couldn't handle it?
^Mari Su=hakishvili
DeleteThe plot is picking up as it becomes clear what the climax of the play will be: Alan revealing what exactly transpired the night he blinded six horses with a hoof pick. As much as I would love to find that out, I must say that this play seems to be one that is really meant to be seen rather than read. On the page, these monologues and conversations about repression come off as overly cerebral. That’s not to say that the play is boring, but that as written the characters seem less like characters and more like mouthpieces for the playwright to philosophize from different sides on an issue. The “metaphoricalness” is still prevalent, but if these characters had more depth or nuance (something that an actor can bring to a live performance) I wouldn’t mind so much. I did really enjoy the rant Alan’s mom went on about Alan not being her fault. It reminded me of an excellent film We Need To Talk About Kevin, a movie that shares a similar story where a mother has to reckon with horrific actions of their son. While We Need To Talk About Kevin takes a more ambivalent final stance, here it seems Alan’s mom is taking a much more decisive position: Alan did horrible things not because of her own failed parenting, but because of some outside influence (“the Devil”). Who should take the blame for a kid committing horrific acts? Is it the parent’s fault, the kid’s, or is it out of anybody’s control? As the play winds to a close, I’m wondering how Peter Shaffer is going to be able to tie all of these seemingly disparate threads into a cohesive ending.
ReplyDeleteEthan Karas
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDajCkGmXSU
ReplyDeleteLinked above is the 1977 depiction of Equus, Act II, Scene 25. Dysart’s actor depicts his character exactly as I saw him in my mind’s eye: existentially haggard, yet direct in describing his grief. The scene is where Hesther and Dysart discuss Dysart’s opinions on Alan’s case, admitting he feels envy for Alan’s experience with faith. The actor is soft-spoken to Hesther, supporting a potential romantic interest between his character and Hesther. This quickly grows pained, but calculated, with stress on the most self-damning words in his speech detailing his jealously of Alan Strang. While quiet and pained, he states “that boy has known passion more ferocious than I have felt,” his elaboration grows booming and relentless, detailing his life as “pallid and provincial,” failing to realize his much needed “fantastic surrender to the primitive” (81). The actor realizes the pain in Dysart’s final image, that of his wife, “a woman [he] hasn’t kissed in six years” compared to Alan’s experience “sucking the sweat off his God’s hairy cheek!” (81). The actor managed to breathe life into Dysart’s most critical lines that detail his personal crisis confronting his inner need for faith and self-realization. He hates the boundaries of his normal life, something that Hesther’s actress makes clear her character does not understand.
- Patrick Ortiz