Don't be deceived by the beginning. This book is centered around Blanche, pure and uncomplicated.

We have Stella, who should know better and indeed does, yet fails to act upon that knowledge. Not for herself - she refuses to accept that her husband is a violent, worthless scoundrel - and not for her sister Blanche, whom she seems to love above all else. She would rather lock up her sister than believe what Blanche said: that Stella's husband raped her. Oh, she knows full well; that much is clear. But it's simply easier to send her sister to an asylum than to admit that her husband is as horrible as he truly is.

We have Stella's husband Stanley, a worthless piece of trash, a wife-beater, a cheater, and a rapist of his sister-in-law.

We have Mitch, a plain and simple-minded man-child. Perhaps good-hearted, but deeply simple and easily swayed.

But then there's Blanche. Oh, Blanche, what a heartbreaker. Pitiful and sad, yet curiously enough, she is by far the wisest character in the book. Dizzy, silly, and absurd, but practical in her own way. More than that, she is insightful: into her own life (she knows perfectly well that her whole life is a sham, and her repression of it all is a conscious, aware repression), into her sister's (she immediately recognizes what kind of man Stanley is), and into life in general.

So, of course, it's Blanche whom the world labels as "crazy" because she is poetic enough to wish for beautiful things (how fitting that Stella and Blanche's lost plantation home is called Belle Reve: beautiful dream!) and to attempt to see beauty, elegance, and art in humanity, poetic enough to pretend it's there even when it's not; because she is practical enough to do what she must to survive, like becoming a sex worker; because she is brave enough to tell the truth about what Stanley did to her, even if she knows her sister will pretend it isn't true.

Who, in the end, is the truly crazy one? In the end, which of these characters most truly denies reality?

-----------------------------------------

Some Blanche quotes:

"The opposite [of death] is desire."

"I've always depended on the kindness of strangers."

MITCH: "I don't think I've ever seen you in the light..."

BLANCHE: "There is some obscure meaning in this but I fail to catch it."

MITCH:"What it means is I've never had a real good look at you, Blanche. Let's turn the light on here.... So I can take a look at you good and plain!"

BLANCHE: "Of course you don't really mean to be insulting!"

MITCH: "No, just realistic."

BLANCHE: I don't want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic! I try to give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don't tell truth, I tell what ought to be truth. And if that is sinful, then let me be damned for it! Don't turn the light on!"

“Death--I used to sit here and she used to sit over there and death was as close as you are … We didn’t dare even admit we had ever heard of it! … The opposite is desire.” This powerful quote from Tennessee Williams' play sets the tone for a raw and dark exploration of human nature. My first encounter with Williams was through this short play, often regarded as his best, and I was immediately captivated.

Of course, I was familiar with the classic film adaptation starring Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter, and Vivian Leigh. However, I prefer to read the source material first, allowing my imagination to create its own version. As I read, the vivid portrayals from the film played in my mind, enhancing the experience.

Despite its brevity, this play is packed with depth and complexity. The stage directions, which evoke the sweltering heat and the music of New Orleans, bring the setting to life. The characters, too, become real and relatable, each struggling to protect their self-image in the face of truth. Blanche, the delicate southern flower, has endured death, destruction, and disappointment. Stella, a happily married woman, finds herself in a relationship with a violent husband. Stanley, the ruler of his household, resorts to brute force to maintain control, perhaps influenced by his war experience and ethnic stereotypes.

They all cope with reality in their own tragic ways. Blanche uses a paper lantern to cover the harsh lightbulb, Stanley drowns out his abuse with lustful howls, and Stella refuses to accept the truth. These are common coping mechanisms, and perhaps we have all played one of these parts in our own lives. This play serves as a reminder that beneath the surface, we are all struggling with our own demons.

Proposito per l'anno prosimo: leggere più teatro.

This resolution for the next year is truly worthy. Reading more plays can bring a wealth of benefits. It allows us to explore different worlds, characters, and emotions. We can immerse ourselves in the creativity and imagination of the playwrights.

By reading more teatro, we can improve our language skills, expand our vocabulary, and enhance our understanding of different literary styles. It can also inspire us, give us new perspectives, and help us to think more deeply about various aspects of life.

Moreover, teatro often reflects the society and culture of a particular time and place. Through reading, we can gain insights into different historical periods and cultures, and develop a more comprehensive understanding of the world.

In conclusion, the proposito of reading more teatro for the next year is not only a worthy one but also a rewarding one. It can enrich our lives, expand our horizons, and help us to become more well-rounded individuals.

A Streetcar And A Broken Tower

In the published version of his masterpiece, "A Streetcar Named Desire", Tennessee Williams employs as an epigraph a stanza from "The Broken Tower", likely the final poem penned by the American romantic poet Hart Crane (1899 - 1932).

Crane composed this complex poem in 1932, shortly before his tragic suicide. The poem delves into Crane's endeavors to seize the spark of imagination and the gift of love amidst an unhappy existence. With his passionate romanticism and lyrical prowess, Crane exerted a profound and lasting influence on Williams.

When I revisited "Streetcar", reflecting on the significance of Crane's lines proved helpful. They encapsulate the way we are to perceive Blanche DuBois. The unhappy heroine of Williams's play truly inhabited a "broken world" of shattered dreams. She lost both the remnants of Belle Reve, the family plantation in Mississippi, and her self-esteem. On her fateful visit to her sister Stella and her husband, the crude and brutal Stanley Kowalski in New Orleans where the play is set, Blanche's world shatters once more as she forfeits her last opportunity at love and her sanity.

All Blanche has are her dreams and her attempt to discover "the visionary company of love." She is a woman of illusions, striving to conceal the sordid details of her past, such as the suicide of her young husband, her attendant nymphomania, and her alcoholism from herself and others. Her illusions cannot withstand realistic examination, especially when exposed to Stanley. Blanche is incapable of holding onto her last "desperate choice", much like the speaker in Crane's poem. As his own life advanced, Williams increasingly identified with Blanche DuBois, and perhaps these lines from Hart Crane apply to Williams's view of himself as well.

With its lurid, pulp, and melodramatic narrative, "Streetcar" has always been an inviting target for critics. However, in exquisitely poetic language, the play raises certain timeless themes. These include the search for love, the potent and destructive force of sexuality, and the centrality of romance and imagination in赋予生命在残酷现实世界中的意义. In a brief introduction he wrote to the play titled "A Streetcar named Success", Williams proposed, following William Saroyan, that the theme of the play was that "purity of the heart is the one success worth having. `In the time of your life - live!'". The play and Blanche meet a tragic end. But capturing Blanche's story in art imparts to the reader or viewer of the play a power to endure, similar to the power bestowed upon art and love in Hart Crane's "The Broken Tower."

Robin Friedman

\\n  “They told me to take a streetcar named Desire and then transfer to one called Cemeteries and ride six blocks and get off at - Elysian Fields”\\n

There is a certain high you feel when you read a classic. It's not one that can be repeatable or interchangeable. It attaches to you and if it's good enough, it might never leave your system.

Enter our setting: New Orleans in the late 1940s, post World War II. The American Dream is thick in the atmosphere. Jazz, sex, booze, and gambling run wild on the streets.

Enter our characters: Stanley Kowalski, Stella, and Blanche DuBois. All three are damaged and broken, yet deliciously raptured in our plot.

Enter our story: Their worlds are about to take a 360-degree turn when emotion, the summer heat, lust, manipulation, cleverness, but mostly desire come alive and off the pages written by Tennessee Williams.

Anyone who picks up A Streetcar Named Desire knows they are going to be in for a story beyond the story. The writing screams hidden metaphors and imagery that makes you want to dance with Blanche, play poker with Stanley, cry with Stella, and be a part of the gang under the New Orleans moon.

The story was palpable. It felt like I could touch the characters' hearts and minds, and it would be okay because they would let me. Tennessee crafted the story in a way that those who are patient and allow the characters to touch their hearts will be rewarded.

The atmosphere that surrounded me throughout reading this script was electric. It smelt like warm bread and then changed to whiskey-filled game nights. There was never a still moment in the world we step foot in.

There are so many different types of desire and lust. I could taste all of them in this play. It was as if each had a distinct flavor, and every time a conflict occurred in the plotline, I felt it.

I think the manner that Williams approached many different aspects and issues in this book was so strong and relative to the time that this play was published in. This was a time when being in the LGBT community was considered a crime and a psychological disease. This was a time when being a'southern belle' was the only way to be accepted as a woman. This was a time when domestic abuse was considered normal and just part of the marriage.

I could go on and on and list the different themes that this story approached, but I'll just say that there was not a single tasteless moment in this play. It may have been bitter, or sweet, or even sour, but never tasteless.

New Orleans in the 1940s and this novel both have the same tune that plays back. The Blue Piano, the jazz, the love, the instability, the desire. It was a melody that played back and played loud through and through.

There was a powerful voltage that rang through the soundtrack, and it was like every time you get close, you get an electric shock that makes you alive inside. Even though you know it's bad to like it, you want more.

Sound like a high yet?

When you think of desire, what comes inside your head?

I find myself in a second story window, looking down at you.

You are yelling at me, your voice carrying up to where I am. "Stella!" you shout, with a certain intensity in your tone.

I can't help but laugh because in that moment, you think you're Brando, channeling the famous actor's charisma and passion.

But the truth is, as much as you might try, you'll never come close to the real thing.

There's something about your attempt that is both endearing and a little bit comical.

Maybe it's the way you throw yourself into it, or the fact that you believe so strongly that you can embody that kind of presence.

Either way, it makes for a memorable moment, one that I'll likely look back on and smile.

And as I continue to watch you from my perch in the window, I wonder what other antics you'll come up with next.

|| 4.0 stars ||

➛First read: October 2021 | ★4.0 stars

➛Second read: October 2021 | ★4.0 stars

Oh, this play was truly remarkable. It was really, really good.

This play has a unique charm in that it leaves so much unsaid, yet manages to convey a profound message. It's truly fascinating and completely captured my attention from start to finish.

Although the plot may not be overly complex or action-packed, that's not the essence of this play. Instead, it functions more like a character study, and a highly effective one at that.

The characters are all incredibly interesting, each with their own flaws and brokenness, which makes them even more captivating. I was immediately curious about them and as the story unfolded, they became even more enthralling.

I especially love the concept of blurring the lines between imagination and reality, which is executed brilliantly in this play. It leaves you with a sense of wonder and confusion, but not to the point of frustration.

I really loved this play and have very few complaints or major critiques.

Despite being rather old, this play still holds up and continues to be a thought-provoking and engaging piece of literature.

**Ripping apart the Veil of American Society**

On 2 December 2014, I reflected on my previous review of this play. I initially thought my earlier critique might have been a bit harsh, especially as I wrote it from memory rather than right after reading the play. However, after reading it for the third time, I had to lower its rating even further. I find this play incredibly painful to read, not because it's badly constructed or the characters are shallow. In fact, the characters are well-developed, and the play has deep themes. But to me, it comes across as a sophisticated soap opera.

I don't mind dark plays that are critical of society and social norms. I'm not trying to hide from the reality the play presents. The problem is that Williams brings the play too close to home. The scenes in this play are ones you might encounter in your neighbor's house. I can't fault Williams' style, setting the play in a working-class district of New Orleans. Its popularity, as seen from other Goodreads reviews, shows that his style works. But reading this play makes me feel as if someone has cut my stomach open and is slowly removing my intestines.
Blanche's character is complex. We know very little about her, and what we do know is only through what others tell us. We can't trust a word that comes out of her mouth. She has created an illusion around herself, living in a fantasy world where she is a Southern Belle. But as we find out, she has a reputation as a slut. Williams uses the motif of the prostitute on the street robbing the drunk to symbolize Blanche's true nature.
Williams also uses this play to pierce the illusion that American society lives in. The play was produced a couple of years after the end of the war, a time when people were looking forward to peace and prosperity. The ideal was the happy family living in their own house with two happy children. But this play takes us into the working-class district of New Orleans, showing us a different world that lies beneath the surface of the American dream. It's a male-dominated world where women are expected to submit.
Could Williams have done this play another way? I'm not sure. While this play is better than some others, with deeper characters and more complexity, I doubt I could bring myself to read it again. But I probably should reread "A Glass Menagerie" to give it a fairer treatment.

**Another Painful Experience from Highschool**

On 26 December 2011, I wondered why English teachers force us to read such painful rubbish. Is it to see how many students commit intellectual suicide or to inflict pain so they can emerge stronger? This play is quite extreme.
The first question I ask about this play is, "What is the point?" In most good books, there is a point, a movement from beginning to end, with everything being revealed and becoming clear. There is also an aspect of learning and growing. But in this play, there is none of this.
If we look at the play objectively and analyze the characters, we could argue that it tears off the glazed covering of American Society and shows the social decay within. The play was written in post-war America, at the beginning of the "Golden Age." It was a time when many looked back fondly on the "good old days." But this play suggests that even then, there was a dark and menacing undercurrent that the middle class preferred to ignore.
Let's consider the plot. Blanche Dubois arrives in New Orleans to live with her sister for an unclear reason. We quickly realize she is living in a fantasy world with a Texan oil baron as her lover. But she discovers that her sister's household is not so wonderful, with her sister married to a man Blanche sees as a brute. The play follows the confrontation between Blanche and Stanley, after which Blanche is taken to a mental hospital, babbling about the kindness of strangers.
That's pretty much the plot. Stan remains the same, and Stella continues to love him, even though they have a baby. Some have questioned why Stella would put up with someone like Stan. But this was post-war America, and couples didn't just walk out on each other. Even today, people stay in abusive relationships for various reasons, such as the belief that the abuser will change, fear of being alone, or co-dependence. In the days of "A Streetcar Named Desire," there was also the social stigma attached to divorce and single mothers, especially since society was still sexist and couldn't see fault in the husband.
Maybe Tennessee Williams was trying to make the point that society is rotten and decayed, and we, like Blanche Dubois, live in a fantasy world where everything is perfect. We shut our minds to the possibility of abuse. Many of us still do this today, not just because of propaganda from above, but also because we are afraid of being confronted with the truth that could shatter our worldview.

\\n  

I'll tell you what I want. Magic! Yes, yes, magic! I try and give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don't tell the truth. I tell what ought to be the truth. And if that is sinful, then let me be damned for it!

\\n

What an incredibly claustrophobic and poisonous play this is! Strangely enough, I had never seen or read any work by Tennessee Williams before this encounter. This oversight is something that definitely needs to be corrected. "A Streetcar Named Desire" is a scathing indictment of post-war American culture. It delves deep into themes such as domestic violence, possible rape, and emotional abuse. Moreover, it explores the illusions and delusions that not only enable the latter but also, ironically, may offer some form of sustenance to women in the face of a cruel and unforgiving world. Faded Blanche is clearly the catalyst and the most obvious victim, but Stella also manages to leave me feeling anxious.

The play is rife with anger, desire, palpable tension, and a smouldering yet risky sexuality. It also contains subtle critiques of class, race, and gender stereotypes. Set against the backdrop of the vibrant city of New Orleans, which itself becomes the source of Blanche's hallucinations, the play makes excellent use of a closed set. This effectively foregrounds the inherent danger that domestic proximity can pose. It's a powerful and thought-provoking work that truly deserves its place in the canon of great American drama.

On a recent trip to New Orleans, this play was mentioned on numerous occasions. It dawned on me that although I had witnessed performances of it, I had never actually 'read' the play. I discovered that despite being written in the late 1940s, it remains incredibly profound in the present day. Its portrayal of tortured characters and the brutality, anger, and violence present in their lives, and indeed in our society, is truly remarkable. It is astonishing to note that so much has remained unchanged in the past 70 years.

Tennessee Williams, in an essay published in the London Observer in 1957, wrote: 'I don't believe in villains or heroes--only right or wrong ways that individuals have taken, not by choice but by necessity or by certain still-uncomprehended influences in themselves, their circumstances, and their antecedents.' His plays serve as a mirror, reflecting our own flaws. However, they most particularly highlight our harsh and often unjust judgments of others. By delving into the complex and often troubled psyches of his characters, Williams forces us to confront our own prejudices and biases. His works are a powerful reminder that we should strive to understand and empathize with others, rather than simply passing judgment.

Okay but. The entire play was just aggressive slut shaming??? Like sure it was beautifully written. The words seemed to dance on the page, painting vivid pictures and creating a world that was both captivating and tragic. But I'm now furious and so sad. It's as if a part of my heart has been ripped out. I'm not sure it was worth it tbh.

Blanche Dubois defence squad 2k15! Can you believe people try and sympathize with Stanley??? He was a brute, a man who showed no respect or understanding for Blanche. How could anyone look at his actions and find them worthy of sympathy? Fight me @ all men ever!

Maybe I'm being too harsh. Maybe there's more to the story than meets the eye. But right now, in this moment, I'm just so angry and disappointed. I thought this play would be something different, something that would make me think and feel in new ways. Instead, it just made me feel sick to my stomach.

To write or not to write, that's the question!

After reading the play, your mind is filled with countless thoughts and ideas that you want to express, but you're unsure whether you should or even could.

At the end of the book, there was a self-interview with Tennessee Williams, where he discussed what he intended to convey in this work. Now, I'm left confused. As a woman and a feminist, I find that the women in this book are grossly misrepresented. They are depicted as weak, unable to defend themselves, having no sense of what they're doing, where they're going, or who they are. They are tricked, misused, abused, and mistreated by men, especially those closest to them, such as their husbands or brothers-in-law. This is why Blanche says, "I depend on the kindness of strangers." I have a love-hate relationship with this sentence and the entire play. However, it is an easy, good, and lovely read, and I personally appreciate Tennessee Williams' writing style.