1901 Cover
This play was pretty annoying. It seems like Moscow is the place to be for the characters as they are neither happy with their location or their status in life. These people are everyday people, you know like you and me, and I like to compare them to Americans who always want to go the big city, New York or San Fransico, even just the idea of going anywhere but the town we were born into.
Of course this place is better than your home town. Unless it is your home town.
Way better than home, right?
But for us Moscow is even more exotic!
The characters in this play are us, and that is why I think this play is so boring, that and that fact that nothing happens. I mean I think that things actually happen to me on a day to day basis, and I would wager that these characters think the same of their lives. I almost read this as a commentary on our lives and how boring our lives our from a third person perspective, and even more so when applied to a third person narrative. Even changing the medium and writing this thing from a first person perspective would not have enhanced the play nor would it have made it anymore exciting. Like I said though that is the point. One of the hardest things about reading a play like this is that I expect to be surprised in some way, I expect to learn something, to feel some enjoyment. In this play I felt none, all I felt was a lethargic boredom that already exists in my own life. So why would I want to see more of my own life. Half of the time I get sick of it anyways, hence the need to sleep.
I can’t blame them for wanting to escape their life, but I don’t think that will be any kind of a solution. None the less I know that I carve travel, I too have the need to escape my home. I feel that way when ever I stay in one place too long, so in some way I may be a hyped up version of the three sisters. This kind of reminds of some lyrics to an Irish drinking song, that is almost unrelated, but I can’t help but to add it here:
The Moonshiner
I’m a rambler, I’m a gambler, I’m a long way from home
And if you don’t like me, well, leave me alone
I’ll eat when I’m hungry, I’ll drink when I’m dry
And the moonshine don’t kill me, I’ll live til I die
Tragic Women and Tragic Pleasure 