by Joe Igoe
A Long Day's Journey into Night indeed. A spewing forth of home truths, shallowly submerged, brought up with regularity and then conveniently pushed down below the surface yet again. Gone, but not forgotten, even momentarily.
The wrongs and open secrets of the Tyrone family are not, at least to me, tragic in a Greek or Shakespearean sense. Avarice, insecurity, dependence and meanness are all too common. What makes them, again to me, truly tragic is when they are mixed in with personal traits or positions of greatness that have import beyond the familiar and familial. I somehow just didn't get this from O'Neill's play.
Based on his own family history, I can see why he didn't want it published until long after his death. It may be a reckoning with his ghosts and demons, but somehow the specific didn't translate into more universal insight. Granted the scenes are at times visceral and impassioned, but I found no connection to make them more than shocking or sad. They and the play don't ascend to a higher plane. There is no greater truth or insight behind the words and action for me.
Just another fucked up family.
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