Boom, Colleen apears in what can only be called one of the most obviously stagy fright wigs ever seen–lights go! Tis dark.
Who hath dimmed our lights, the lights of our conversation that was at last growing? People are smiling.
How we love to be fooled! Fooled into thinking that we were having a discussion. Some look on with what looks like sheer hatred. “Do you want Simone Weil or Jesus?” she asks.
CW IS SW, wig and all.
The lines do not have quite the resonance they have had on other evenings, because we have not, inevitably, hit the same scenes in the same way–of Jaffier’s opening speech in the Bell Tower, of the intricacies and pathos of SW’s hunger—with the same force as on other nights. We have hit on different things which could resound here. Like the many endings, depending on the theater, imagined by Kieslowski for the Double Vie de Veronique, Weil’s closing monologue here would have to be freshly written every single night in order to hit the tenor of each particular discussion….She could have a repertoire of monologues.
We need to conjure her up every night, perhaps, in order to both save her, poor befuddled philosopher girl, and to do her justice. She, SW, is Venice Saved, VS, unsaved. The extreme and willing suspension of disbelief we experience in this final speech, where we are moved to radical empathy despite ourselves, and despite our recent and intense interest in our own selves and our ideas, our ability to be entertained and to be moved, to be changed by what we have seen, this late in the game. is the moment that makes Venice Saved a Seminar political, theater, and art.
SO much clapping.
The clink of a beer into the recycling bin.