mother, here realized by Linda Lavin’snbravura performance as Kate. If Kate’snalready famous monologue in Act II isnprovoked by Eugene, still Eugene,nwho is sitting at the dining-room table,nrecedes along with the present whilenshe relives the one glorious moment ofnher life when she danced with GeorgenRaft. This moment is destined to benrecalled in the annals of theater historynbecause the monologue as written,nand specifically as portrayed by Lavin,ntransports us along with herself to anotherntime and another place that willnlive within the character.nDuring this episode, Eugene’snasides (“There’s a whole movie in thisnstory, ma. One day I’m gonna write it”nor “And with my mother, I didn’t neednGod to punish me”) have as little effectnon us as they do on Kate. And afternEugene fills in for George Raft andndances with Kate to a big band versionnof It Had To Be You on the radio, thenOedipal implications never get anyndeeper than, “Dancing with my mothernwas very scary. I was doing what mynfather was supposed to be doing butnwasn’t.” This is the closest that Simonngets to the soul-baring which we usuallynassociate with “art.”nWhile Eugene ultimately proves tonbe less of a meaningful figure in thentrilogy than one might expect, numerousnreferences abound throughout thentrilogy to Eugene-as-Simon’s nascentndevelopment as a writer. But they arenall facile, glib inserdons, cheap shots,nreally. In a wonderfully ironic selfcoronation,nEugene is nicknamedn”Shakespeare” in Biloxi. But none ofnthese plays is self-revealing in the waynthat O’Neill often exposed himself andnderived his art in the process. The onlynpiece of self-crificism appears in Biloxinwhen Epstein offers: “You have to getninvolved. You don’t get involvednEzra Pound’s ‘Language of Eternity’n(continued from page 23)nof Ovid’s poem, that individuality isnmerely a mask, a temporary giving ofnface to the flux of eternity. And so itnwas for Pound too.nAt Pisa Pound underwent the mostnsustained trial of faith of any poetnknown to me. As had the exiled Ovidnbefore him, there Pound earned inntears (while that classical civilizationnenough, Eugene. . . . You’re a witness.nYou’re always standing aroundnwatching what’s happening. Scribblingnin your book what other peoplendo. You have to get in the middle of it.nYou have to take sides. Make a contributionnto the fight.” But even thatnadvice is offset in the same play by thenmore flattering suggestion that Eugene’sndiary observations were legitimateninsights: He summarizes Carneynas a person who “can’t be countednon,” and Carney later admits that hisngirl back home used “those exactnwords” to describe him.nThe most revealing line in the trilogynwas unintentional. It arrives—ofncourse!—as a humorous throwaway innBrighton Beach, after the dramaticnreading of Mrs. Murphy’s letter tonAunt Blanche announcing that hernson Frank won’t be able to keep hisndinner engagement. When Eugene responds,n”It was a sad letter, all right,nbut it sure was well written. Maybe Inshould have been born in Ireland,”nhow can we avoid hearing Simon himselfnpouring his heart out, wishing—nlike Norman Mailer—that he were anpart of the legacy that includes Yeats,nShaw, Beckett, O’Casey, Wilde, andnto a lesser degree, Behan.nOn a more mundane level, thenintegrity of the trilogy is disturbed bynthe startling realization that in the firstnplay near the end of Act I, Kate tellsnher sister Blanche, “If Poppa evernheard me say those words, he’d get upnfrom the cemetery.” By the time ofnBroadway Bound, which takes place innthe “late 1940’s” or roughly 10 yearsnlater, their father has most miraculouslynarisen from the grave to appearnas a full-fledged, feisty character, Ben.nBoth the response to Mrs. Murphy’snletter and the hue which suggests thatnBen was dead were eliminated fromnfor which he cared with reckless ultimatenlove lay virtually shattered on topnof him) his own “outstanding right tonhave gazed upon gods’ faces.”nIn the company of the gods—notnthose he’d always read about but thosenthat actually came—he became thenmedium and the singer of truths.nthe film version of Brighton BeachnMemoirs. In opening up the film (andnfor example introducing Mrs. Murphynas a full-fledged character, circumventingnthe need for the letter), Simonnand Hollywood have dissolved thenChekhovian spirit that congealed onnstage. Aside from the sometimes elusivenchanges in the script, the mostnnoticeable difference is that BlythenDanner is far more severe than ElizabethnFranz, who initiated the role ofnKate. Nor does Jonathan Silvermannachieve the special quality of disingenuousnnaivete that was Matthew Broderick’snstock-in-trade and own contributionnto the original Eugene—thoughnhe tries, and sometimesneven too obviously.nBut this is a digression, especiallynconsidering that Brighton Beach Memoirs,nBiloxi Blues, and BroadwaynBound are three solid and maturenworks from one of our most accomplishednplaywrights. If they are notnEugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journeynin to Night, they may very well comprisenNeil Simon’s Long Day’s Journey.nDavid Kaufman is a theater critic innNew York City.nPRIVATIZING THE FAMILYnMoving from the PatriarchalnState to the Liberated FamilynOrder today and receive a FREEncopy of WORKING MOTHERSnAT HOME: The Cultural Politicsnof the Parental Leave Debate.nSend to: Persuasion at Work / 934nN. Main Street / Rockford, IL 61103n• Please rush me “Privatizingnthe Family,” plus my free copynof “Working Mothers At Home.”nn Enclosed is $2 (includes postagenand handling).nNamenAddress.nnnCity _ State Zip _nPW287nMARCH 1987 / 47n