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I must confess that I am not fond of reading plays. While a work of prose allows your mind to spontaneously create its own images, a play does not. One must first create a mental image of a stage, then create the appropriate scenery, props, and the like. Then one must scrupulously follow what character is speaking, mentally attribute the corresponding voice and follow each character's entrances and exits so as not to have the wrong character on the stage at any given time. There is the whole business of delivery . . . how a written line is to be spoken; what emotion, how intense and so on.
Emergency Exit eliminates most of these problems. First, there are only two characters, Angelo and Martino. The setting is the interior of an abandoned dwelling in Naples. Santanelli is highly directive, providing copious directions for the characters - something that actors and directors may find confining, but removes much of the guess work for the reader. So, from the reader's stand point, it is direct, to the point and unambiguous.
But the real value is its content. Emergency Exit is a metaphor for life. Two characters, one of high birth and the other a commoner, represent the Everyman in each of us. They find themselves sharing quarters in a district of Naples which is largely deserted due to earthquake damage. The threat of another quake looms ever in the background. Angelo's and Martino's arguments and bickering vacillates from the trivial to the profound, but always has the texture of reality. Effusive with existential despair, it never wallows - you are constantly motivated to turn the next page.
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The story is based in the abandoned villa on a hilltop in central Italy. It is 1944 and the Allies are advancing yet the scent of victory is overwhelmed by accumulated shell shock. The central characters in the villa: Hungarian Count Lazlo de Almasy, Canadian nurse Hana, the Indian sapper Kip and the thief Caravaggio are all burned out by war and in de Almasy's case, literally and mortally burned. Hana is nursing her mysterious dying patient who gradually details his life as an explorer in the desert of northern Africa and reveals his doomed, magnificant, obsessive, life-altering love affair with Katherine Clifton, an English rose with the tenaciousness of a lioness. Hana, who has lost everyone she dared to love, tries to insulate herself from the world but in the presence of Kip and the less noble Caravaggio, she reaches out once again. This is a story of love's expectations, and the shifting loyalties of friends, family and nations in times of war, of deadly betrayals and being rescued by strangers, of healing wounds and preparing for death. In short, all the stuff top class literature is made of and, strangely, pretty much what happens around us every day although the settings might not be as exotic.
Minghella has constructed a vast canvas of human experience, yet he does not waste a word. He peels away the exterior visage of his characters to reveal their joy and pain with an exquisitely bare, poetic use of language. The consequences of their lives remained with me long after I had put the book down. I pick up The English Patient from time to time and the magic is always there.
All who are concerned about this subject and read this book will find much to ponder. Few books really shed new light on one's thinking, but this is one of those books.
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I would like to share some of lines of his that I find myself remembering when in need:
"Something unnamed, grief-sweetened keeps calling us out."
"Take me, you want to say even as you are taken."
"See these hands. We raised them to touch and pray."
"I have read all night at the kitchen table. Whenever I look up, people are dying and being born all over the earth."
"We are here / to weep, to touch the living shore, to leave our bones."
"Look. Because I love you fifty miles to the north, I can lie down in still darkness and disappear, with my eyes open."
"Together now in simple nearness, we study each other. There is French wine. Her face burns. We know this place. We do not touch and do not touch."
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