Playwright: adapted by Laura Eason from the novel by Edith Wharton. At: Lookingglass Theatre Company at the Water Works, 821 N. Michigan . Phone: 312-337-0665; $20-$62. Runs through: April 17
We can scarcely imagine today the isolation suffered by rural Americans at the turn of the 19th century, when many households lacked even telephones, let alone radios, television or internet computers. These conditions were particularly harsh for the citizens who practiced their trades on the remote fringes of the village settlements, passing the long winter nights in solitude alleviated only by what living creatures—human or animal—might be willing to share their lonely lifestyle.
Edith Wharton's 1911 novel hearkens to the proletarian tragedies of Thomas Hardy: Our title character is a Western Massachusetts sawmill-operator who once reckoned to improve his lot through an education, before his mother's failing health mandated nursing by cousin Zenobia—"Zena," to her kinfolk. When this capable housekeeper's duties are no longer required, Ethan asks her to stay, as his wife. But after the new mistress of the house, herself, succumbs to neurasthenic disorders, the caretaker brought into the family circle is orphaned Mattie, whose youthful vitality beguiles Ethan to the brink of rash—and eventually, fatal—obsession.
Since our first sight of Ethan is that of a prematurely aged cripple, broken in both body and spirit, we are aware that his fate will not be a happy one. Even so, those familiar with the literature of this period (or who recall Eugene O'Neill's descriptions of New England) will detect ominous portent in Wharton's symbolism—Mattie wears a bright red scarf, Zena has a pet cat and so forth. In this adaptation by Laura Eason, these thematic elements are translated visually via Daniel Ostling's scenic design: the stark wintry landscape, the spartan interior of the house, the weatherbeaten wagon that carries both lumber and humans through cruel storms—motifs invoking a dreary and gray universe breeding emotions soon escalating to reckless proportions.
But theatergoers anticipating the simmering sensuality of Eason's Sex With Strangers will find this romantic fable of frustrated affections curiously restrained. Yes, we are told of the passions leading the lovers to suicidal despair, but the two hours of dramatic action too often reduces to Ethan brooding, Zena complaining and Mattie making wide-eyes. To be sure, the results are a viable study aid for school groups taking advantage of the current fashion for page-to-stage literary classics—if only it didn't feel so much like homework.
