"Desire Under the Elms" by Eugene O'Neil

There are few things as effective as sex in art. Because it is so primitive in humans, it appeals to the majority of people. It seems that when picking sex as a subject of a work of art, you already have half of your work cut out for you. That doesn't mean, however, that writing about sex requires no effort. Just because something has the power to affect people doesn't mean that the people are going to want to touch it. I personally don't read erotica—it's not on my bookshelf or reading list, even though I have no doubt that it could be pleasurable. I don't read for the purpose of getting pleasure or getting turned on, but for education. Therefore any books that use sex as a subject would have to use it in a certain way that will educate me in some ways.

Because I often write about sex, it is interesting to look at how other writers write about sex. A lot of times I find that descriptions of sexual desire or sexual activities serve as a good device that writers use to reveal something about the characters. In “Desire Under the Elms,” Eugene O'Neil demonstrates how sex can be used to develop both plots and characters.

The main characters in this play are driven by their desire for each other. Eben, the youngest son of Ephraim Cabot, shows strong hatred for his father's new young wife, Abbie. At the same time he is unable to deny his feelings for her. She, too, is interested in him, though her intention is less conspicuous. Once their desire is realized, they are on the road toward their downfalls.

The play is about sex because it shows are the desire begins, progresses, and subsequently ends the story. It shows the power of sex to control actions and emotions. The play is based on a Greek myth, so that love and sexual desire are relatively interchangeable. Eben and Abbie may not love each other in a sensible sense, but they do in this tradition of storytelling.

The main struggle of the characters is not adultery but themselves and their lacks of trust in each other. Eben thinks that Abbie is using him to get the house, and Abbie, in an attempt to prove herself, ends up murdering her own child. In this way, the play doesn't steer from its course—it doesn't change the subject to the struggle between desire and society, but stays with the struggle between desire and self. It is their desire that brings them to their ruins.

This play is a bit of a melodrama, and is perhaps less interesting now than at the time of its publication. It is also probably more interesting to see than to read. I almost feel as if it has to be staged out of this world in order to make the audience believe in the story. I will recommend it for its prominence in American literature rather than for its entertaining quality.

Eugene O'Neil's "Long Day's Journey Into Night"

Every month I will write about one Shakespeare play and one non-Shakespearean play. This month's non-Shakespearean play is Eugene O'Neil's "Long Day's Journey Into Night."

As always I try to find a way to write about something without giving away the plot. Most of the works I write about are the ones I want everybody to read.

I recently saw a production of Arthur Miller's "All My Sons," a drama about a dysfunctional family. Not long after I read O'Neil's "Long Day" and found that the two plays bare some similarity: both plays are set in a period of one day, they are about a family wherein its members are troubled by personal guilts that plague their relationships with one another. The difference, however, is that Miller's play has a resolution; there is a point of explosion in which the tension that has been building up climaxes; O'Neil's work offers no such thing.

This one day in the life of the Tyrone family is full of revelations; each member of the family lets us see the skeleton in their closet. I wonder if a material like this makes for a good theatrical experience. Imagine sitting through an intense tragedy wherein a whole lot of serious problems are introduced with absolutely no resolution--that doesn't sound like a pleasant evening at the theater, does it? As we get to know each member of the family better, we wonder how they could possibly live together still. Each member blames themselves for the tragedy of another, and they also blame others for their own tragedy. They must really love each other to be able to live together still, but it is also clear that they also have an intense hatred for each other.

Each character has his or her own dream, what they want their lives to be like, but those dreams had become impossible because of their preexisting life. Mary Tyrone, for example, longs for the days when she was a schoolgirl in a convent. She believed that she could have been a concert pianist or a nun, and that those things would have been better than what she had become. She blames her marriage with James for depriving her of those opportunities.

As I said before, there is no climax. The characters simply tell us their problems, and they have just finished their stories by the time the play ends. One can only imagine what would happen to the family next; are they going to kill each other? Maybe they will kill themselves. Or maybe they will continue living their lives in misery.

With extensive descriptions, the play almost reads like a novel. O'Neil, one of the most prominent American playwrights, had intended for this play to be published 25 years after his death. (It was in fact published only 3 years later, with permission of his wife Carlotta, to whom the play is dedicated.) Perhaps he didn't mean for it to be performed. It certainly is a good read; the characterization of these people is both heartfelt and powerful. It might actually make you appreciate your family more.