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Sto caricando le informazioni... Almost, Mainedi John Cariani
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"Welcome to Almost, Maine, a town that's so far north, it's almost not in the United States--it's almost in Canada. And it almost doesn't exist, because its residents never got around to getting organized. So it's just...Almost. One cold, clear Friday night in the middle of winter, while the northern lights hover in the sky above, Almost's residents find themselves falling in and out of love in the strangest ways. Knees are bruised. Hearts are broken. Love is lost and found. And life for the people of Almost, Maine will never be the same." -- Amazon. Non sono state trovate descrizioni di biblioteche |
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Google Books — Sto caricando le informazioni... GeneriSistema Decimale Melvil (DDC)812Literature English (North America) American dramaClassificazione LCVotoMedia:
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“Do you read plays?"
“No."
“Really?! But you have to. Eugene O'Niell, he's fucking wonderful. You must read him. You have to read plays!"
I grew less young, he grew more old and years later he died.
I found myself reading plays, always with his Arab accent in my ears. "Read this, read that...read the Russians, you have to, they're really fucking great. And Hardy. You read Hardy don't you? No?!" A deep, long drag on his cigarette, followed by an abrupt exhale and, "What is wrong with you? I don't know. You have to read these things."
To this day I cannot read a play without smelling cigarette smoke and seeing him smile.
Almost, Maine is a play. Typically American, it is brimming with hope, passion and enthusiasm. A bit of hyperbole, a dash of corny. I loved it and it made me happy and a tad less unwise.
Galal, my old friend, I don't know if "Almost, Maine" is "fucking great". I confess it's not on a par with Chekov, but it is a playful play written with joyfulness and shill. I want you to know that I am still reading plays, and I still miss you. ( )