One gift of Alice McDermott's is to invent characters who are both weird and recognizable; you feel you've met these people. Theresa, a tenth grader on Long Island, is semi-aware that her little cousin might be dying. But Theresa is in a kind of hormonal haze--and the death of a child is too much to think about--so Theresa lies to herself. At the same time, she is drawn to an elderly local artist whose work may or may not be "immortal." It's interesting--and scary--to feel that you have power over a Great Man. Theresa starts showing off around the artist; she shares her thoughts about Shakespeare (and about his villain Macbeth). Theresa's parents have moved to Long Island, to a groundskeeper's cottage, because they think that Theresa's proximity to wealthy people is a good thing. They encourage her to mingle with rich neighbors; at the same time, they feel wary around her, because they know she will not remain close to home. (In this way, McDermott i...
In high school, I became interested in the Vietnam War--American failures, American atrocities. I wrote a paper on the Kent State Massacre and listened to the soundtrack from "Miss Saigon." There is Kim, singing about Bob Kerrey: Do you want one more tale of a Vietnam girl? Want to know how I'm bound to a man I don't love? Do you want to be told how my village was burned? Want to hear how my family was blasted away? How I ran from the rice fields and saw them in flames? How my parents were bodies whose faces were gone... This is unusual material for a Broadway show. Like Frank Rich, I think that the European mega-musicals are a mixed bag--and that "Miss Saigon" is the best of the bunch. This structurally bizarre spectacle establishes a bond between Kim and a white GI--but then flashes forward by three years. The GI has abandoned Kim (and a small child, a son). Kim has been hiding from her cousin, Thuy, who wants an arranged marriage. In the show's stran...