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"Think
about it," he says. "What I do, I ask people
I have never met to leave the peace and comfort of their
homes, face hazardous traffic and pay outrageous prices
in order to be lectured, heckled and hectored by me for
more than two hours. Why on earth should they be kind?
They enter the theatre with frazzled nerves, wishing they'd
stayed by the fireplace, popped corn and watched TV instead.
"But if I've done my
job successfully (it happens sometimes) their annoyance
fades and they're on a trip according to whatever itinerary
I've laid out. Still they're strangers, and if I fail
to make the trip worthwhile, there will be no kindness
toward me nor will I have deserved any.
"It is customary for an author
to list all his credits. I do not intend to do so. It
would not only remind me of my age but also of my failures.
It is well-known, I think, that I wrote MAN OF LA MANCHA
and the stage version of ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S
NEST, two plays which have spread like pandemics. But
lately I feel more like their midwife than their creator.
"I'd rather call attention
to the new and recent works which are yowling for attention,
including some not yet seen on any stage. Here
are the candidates —" |