There’s something of Beckett that seems at work in DELETE, especially in the way the unexplained gunshot stage directions instigate the action, and yet it’s the variation on the sleep-walking words of Lady Macbeth (“What’s done cannot be undone”) in Jacquelyn Priskorn’s purgatory drama that seems to hold it together in a place somewhere between office speak and demonology, between IT and It. I love it that there are both mistakes we brought on ourselves and mistakes that are done to us and that both are ambiguously consequential. Fine work from a fascinating playwright.
There’s something of Beckett that seems at work in DELETE, especially in the way the unexplained gunshot stage directions instigate the action, and yet it’s the variation on the sleep-walking words of Lady Macbeth (“What’s done cannot be undone”) in Jacquelyn Priskorn’s purgatory drama that seems to hold it together in a place somewhere between office speak and demonology, between IT and It. I love it that there are both mistakes we brought on ourselves and mistakes that are done to us and that both are ambiguously consequential. Fine work from a fascinating playwright.