Be always drunken. Nothing else matters: that is the only question. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, be drunken continually.

This passage sets a rather profound and somewhat mysterious tone. It seems to suggest that in a state of drunkenness, one can perhaps escape the harsh reality and the heavy burden that time imposes.

What an utterly beautiful play! This is my second encounter with O'Neill's work, and I am completely won over. While naturalist and realist fiction presents life with a sharp and unflinching gaze, symbolist literature offers a different perspective.

Don't look at me as if I'd gone nutty. I'm talking sense. Who wants to see life as it is, if they can help it?

Although O'Neill wasn't strictly a symbolist writer, this play does touch on a major theme of the Movement: escapism. Addiction and escapism often go hand in hand, and each of the Tyrones has their own reasons, stories, and past that they are desperately trying to forget, having lost all hope of amending it. It is a beautiful and heart-rending play, despite being very sad. O'Neill has truly made his way into my list of favorite playwrights!

Review of the Persian book "Hidden Writing Method Before"

I can only say that please listen to the advice of this humble servant and read Yojin O'Neill.

The fourth book

Synchronization of the seven-day-seven-performance schedule.

This review seems to be about a Persian book that might have some interesting insights or methods related to writing. The mention of listening to the advice and reading a particular author, Yojin O'Neill, could imply that there are valuable lessons to be learned from both the book being reviewed and the works of O'Neill. The fourth book and the synchronization of the seven-day-seven-performance schedule might be specific aspects or features of the book that the reviewer wants to highlight. Overall, it piques the reader's curiosity and makes them want to know more about this Persian book and its connection to the recommended author and the unique schedule.

Each act does a nice job building upon each other.

They are like building blocks, with each one inching closer and closer to the truth.

This gradual progression ultimately cumulates in the fourth and final act.

In this act, everything climaxes just as you want it to.

However, it still leaves you with an unsatisfying ending that just leads to more questions.

Well done, Eugene.

The motifs and the obvious comparisons in the story make it a very enjoyable and easy read.

At its very base, it is a story about one day in the life of a very dysfunctional family.

Although this may not seem out of the ordinary in any sense, it is this simplicity that makes it such a great read.

The story felt very Brady Bunch esque, especially toward the end.

But imagine if every member of the Brady Bunch hated each other and were either shooting up or alcoholics.

It gives a whole new twist to the familiar concept.

Overall, the story has its strengths and weaknesses, but it definitely keeps you engaged from start to finish.

I had the opportunity to read this in World Drama class years ago, but I admit shamefully that I skimmed it.

Now, armed with the knowledge of the autobiographical context and the actual accuracy of O'Neill's family history as portrayed here, I couldn't help but become deeply emotionally invested.

In the dedication to his wife at the beginning, O'Neill describes it as "this play of old sorrow, written in tears and blood." It may sound overly melodramatic, and indeed, the first half might give that impression.

However, for me, this play packs a powerful punch. The final act is a cathartic, tumultuous, poetic, and yet difficult-to-swallow piece of literature. I can't even begin to imagine the inner demons he had to face in order to pen this masterpiece.

The characters are all, to some extent, drunks, Catholics, and actors, although the father is the only one who officially embodies all three. The acting motif comes into play, as it does in all dysfunctional families, in the elaborate roles they all play for each other. There is denial, sarcasm, and bitterness galore.

The mother character endures the deepest pain and is thus the first to seek relief in substance abuse. Once she enters this self-imposed cocoon, she freely expresses, or confesses in the Catholic sense, all her woes.

The father cracks when his wife does, but his shame is always carefully guarded. The characters of the sons, Edmund (Eugene's autobiographical self) and Jamie, are heartbreakingly simple. They have their dark secrets, but being young, they still live relatively close to the surface. At times, they all seek redemption through stupor, with no real resolution in sight. There is no sober denouement, only the glimmer of hope that Edmund may somehow manage to escape.