Look at each other

I’m drawn to Thornton Wilder’s play Our Town, and in particular Act Three in which Emily, who has recently died and is sitting atop her grave, is given the chance to revisit a day in her life.

She chooses her twelfth birthday, which occurred fourteen years earlier. The stage manager warns her that she will not only live the experience, but will watch herself living it. ‘And as you watch it, you see the thing that they – down there [in the town called Grover’s Corners] – never know. You see the future. You know what’s going to happen afterwards.’

So Emily revisits her home, and while there are birthday presents, and guests, and all sorts of activity going on, Emily realizes that they are all going about their business without really noticing each other. Emily knows that her mother, Mrs Webb, can’t hear her. But she tries anyway.

EMILY [with mounting urgency]: Oh, Mamma, just look at me one minute as though you really saw me. Mama, fourteen years have gone by. I’m dead. You’re a grandmother, Mama. I married George Gibbs, Mama. Wally’s dead too. Mama, his appendix burst on a camping trip to North Conway. We felt just terrible about it – don’t you remember? But, just for a moment now we are all together. Mama, just for a moment we’re happy. Let’s look at one another.’  

A short time later Emily says to the stage manager:

‘I can’t. I can’t go on. It goes so fast. We don’t have time to look at one another.

[She breaks down sobbing.

The lights dim on the left half of the stage. Mrs Webb disappears.]

I didn’t realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed. Take me back – up the hill – to my grave. But first: Wait! One more look.

Good-bye, Good-bye, world. Good-bye, Grover’s Corners … Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking … and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths … and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anyone to realize you.

[She looks towards the stage manager and asks abruptly, through her tears]

Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? – every, every minute?

STAGE MANAGER: No.

[Pause.]

The saints and poets, maybe – they do some.’