What to say, what to say? Well, I can start by saying that I never had any intention of reading this book, or play rather, primarily because I had no idea of its existence until 1 minute before I started to read it. You see, I had some time to kill in between classes, and instead of doing my classwork like a normal or responsible student, I decided to drop by the library and browse the shelves. In doing so, my eye happened to land on this unassuming book, and, seeing it was a short play (a mere 95 pages), I decided I would read it, with the possibility of finishing it before class started.
Well, read it I did and I must say I was actually enjoying myself at the start, not overwhelmingly so, but to a reasonable degree. However, what began as interest slowly devolved into confusion and bemusement. The story and conversation (for that's really all this play is, two separate conversations taking place one night and the following morning respectively) were repeating themselves, almost unnaturally so, and the characters weren't developing all that much.
Now, before I digress any further, an important note to make is this: there are only four characters in the entirety of this two-act play. Four. and we don't meet two of these characters until the first act is nearly complete. Because of this, the back and forth between the first two characters, Hirst, a successful and renowned poet, and Spooner, a failed poet, both in their sixties, is rather flat at times. Now, Spooner is quite a bit more talkative than Hirst is, and as a result has a lot more dialogue, much of it monologues, which tends to be him rambling in the most literal sense. The sentences are less fully formulated thoughts, and more of a snowball of his thoughts, which is interesting the first 2-3 times, but quickly gets old.
Now to the primary reason I did not enjoy the experience of reading this play. The second act, taking place the morning after the first act, as I stated previously, is short, roughly thirty pages long, and as a result feels rushed in several places. We see the four characters discuss certain topics, and then the ending appears. I say, it appears, because the last two pages come out of *nowhere*. And I mean nowhere. The characters are having a normal discussion, and all of a sudden their dialogue makes you feel like you are no longer watching a four way discussion in North-West London, but a discussion in the Twilight Zone. The dialogue becomes dissonant and disconnected, and the play just ends. I don't think getting hit by a train would be half as sudden as this ending was. Unfortunately, the author of this play decided it best to not resolve a single point, rather he went for the ambiguous ending. This would be far from the first play I would recommend someone, unless they wanted an odd afternoon read.