Molly Sweeney — an Irish tale

I listened to an interview on NPR with the actress Geraldine Hughes about the play "Molly Sweeney."  It sounded so great that sure enough we ended up at this very small Irish Repertory Theatre for a Matinee performance. The stage was tiny and the seats were arranged in front and on the side. It guarantees a close up view and feels very intimate. Three wonderful actors — the husband, the doctor and Molley Sweeney. Molly is a confident, beautiful and life-affirming woman who is blind since she was 10 months old and she is happily adjusted; her head is held always straight up and she "looks" forward, her eyes are partially closed and constantly move up and down. Although she is clinically blind she explains at the beginning that she has her own way of seeing and she has more than come to terms with the world as she knows it.

The story is told by the three narrators in alternating monologues and we learn what happens when the restless husband and the once famous doctor decide to have her undergo a sight restoring operation. The medical miracle has terrible consequences. When the bandages come off, remarkable revelations ensue. Molly is unable to adjust to her new ability to see and ends up in a mental hospital. Her husband moves on and the doctor resigns and also packs up his things. In between there is a moral lesson implying that one should not argue with nature. At least that's what I read into it.

The play was written by Brian Friel who skillfully unfolds this mesmerizing and heartbreaking story in two acts. The stage is bare with three chairs only and large windows in the background. There is no costume change, no decoration, just spellbinding acting by these three actors. Finished writing this I wonder why I called it "an Irish tale" — it's a tale of great humanity that just doesn't belong only to the Irish but to all of us. But only the Irish can present it like this, plain and wordy and thought provoking.