Britannica Explains In these videos, Britannica explains a variety of topics and answers frequently asked questions.Britannica Classics Check out these retro videos from Encyclopedia Britannica’s archives.How many of you do? Raise your hand if you’ve answered your cell phone while you were quietly urinating. But some people actually answer their phones in the shitter these days. There are only one or two sacred places left in the world today. I could not put all of this-( she thinks the word grief)- in a low-ceilinged room-no-it requires height.Ĭould some one please turn their fucking cell phone off. Thank God there are still people who build churches for the rest of us so that when someone dies or gets married we have a place to. Even though I am not a religious woman I am glad there are still churches. I am relieved to find that there is stained glass and the sensation of height. There is, thank God, a vaulted ceiling here. Help me to help the memory of Gordon live on in the minds and hearts of his loved ones.ĭear God. She breathes, to Gordon: It was your mother. I am his mother. The enormity of her loss registers for Jean.) ( Pause while the woman on the phone says: of course he has my phone number. There seems to be no one working at this cafe. We just see the dead man and an empty stage. She exits with the cell phone to look at the name of the cafe and the address. I think that there is a dead man sitting next to me. Can I take a message?Ī pause as the person on the other end makes a very long offer. Hold on-I don’t have anything to write with. Jean gets out of her chair and walks over to the man. She has an insular quality, as though she doesn’t want to take up space. Charles Dickens, Tale of Two Cities, the passage Hermia tries to paraphraseĪ dead man, Gordon, sits on a chair with his back to us.Īt another table, a woman-Jean-sits, drinking coffee, and writing a thank-you letter. So with the three passengers shut up in the narrow compass of one lumbering old mail-coach they were mysteries to one another, as complete as if each had been in his own coach and six, or his own coach and sixty, with the breadth of a county between him and the next. In any of the burial-places of this city through which I pass, is there a sleeper more inscrutable than its busy inhabitants are, in their innermost personality, to me, or than I am to them?.The messenger on horseback had exactly the same possessions as the King, the first Minister of State, or the richest merchant in London. No more can I turn the leaves of this dear book that I loved, and vainly hope in time to read it all…It was appointed that the book should shut with a spring, for ever and for ever, when I had read but a page.My friend is dead, my neighbour is dead, my love, the darling of my soul, is dead it is the inexorable consolidation and perpetuation of the secret that was always in that individuality, and which I shall carry in mine to my life's end. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! Something of the awfulness, even of Death itself, is referable to this. Has an accent.Ī wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. 3) the Other Woman/also plays the stranger.
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