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Christian Mysticism by William Ralph Inge

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24. _Victor Cousin_. "Mysticism is the pretension to know God without
intermediary, and, so to speak, face to face. For Mysticism, whatever
is between God and us hides Him from us." "Mysticism consists in
substituting direct inspiration for indirect, ecstasy for reason,
rapture for philosophy."

25. _R.A. Vaughan_. "Mysticism is that form of error which mistakes
for a Divine manifestation the operations of a merely human faculty."

This poor definition is the only one (except "Mysticism is the romance
of religion") to be found in _Hours with the Mystics_, the solitary
work in English which attempts to give a history of Christian
Mysticism. The book has several conspicuous merits. The range of the
author's reading is remarkable, and he has a wonderful gift of
illustration. But he was not content to trust to the interest of the
subject to make his book popular, and tried to attract readers by
placing it in a most incongruous setting. There is something almost
offensive in telling the story of men like Tauler, Suso, and Juan of
the Cross, in the form of smart conversations at a house-party, and
the jokes cracked at the expense of the benighted "mystics" are not
always in the best taste. Vaughan does not take his subject quite
seriously enough. There is an irritating air of superiority in all his
discussions of the lives and doctrines of the mystics, and his hatred
and contempt for the Roman Church often warp his judgment. His own
philosophical standpoint is by no means clear, and this makes his
treatment of speculative Mysticism less satisfactory than the more
popular parts of the book. It is also a pity that he has neglected the
English representatives of Mysticism; they are quite as interesting in
their way as Madame Guyon, whose story he tells at disproportionate
length. At the same time, I wish to acknowledge considerable
obligations to Vaughan, whose early death probably deprived us of even
better work than the book which made his reputation.

26. _James Hinton_. "Mysticism is an assertion of a means of knowing
that must not be tried by ordinary rules of evidence--the claiming
authority for our own impressions."

Another poor and question-begging definition, on the same lines as the
last.




APPENDIX B

The Greek Mysteries And Christian Mysticism


The connexion between the Greek Mysteries and Christian Mysticism is
marked not only by the name which the world has agreed to give to that
type of religion (though it must be said that [Greek: mysteria] is not
the commonest name for the Mysteries--[Greek: orgia, teletai, tele]
are all, I think, more frequent), but by the evident desire on the
part of such founders of mystical Christianity as Clement and
Dionysius the Areopagite, to emphasise the resemblance. It is not
without a purpose that these writers, and other Platonising
theologians from the third to the fifth century, transfer to the faith
and practice of the Church almost every term which was associated with
the Eleusinian Mysteries and others like them. For instance, the
sacraments are regularly [Greek: mysteria]; baptism is [Greek:
mystikon loutron] (Gregory of Nyssa); unction, [Greek: chrisma
mystikon] (Athanasius); the elements, [Greek: mystis edode] (Gregory
Naz.); and participation in them is [Greek: mystike metalepsis].
Baptism, again, is "initiation" [Greek: myesis]; a baptized person is
[Greek: memyemenos], [Greek: mystes] or [Greek: symmystes] (Gregory Ny.
and Chrysostom), an unbaptized person is [Greek: amyetos]. The
celebrant is [Greek: mysterion lanthanonton mystagogos] (Gregory Ny.);
the administration is [Greek: paradosis], as at Eleusis. The
sacraments are also [Greek: telete] or [Greek: tele], regular
Mystery-words; as are [Greek: teleiosis, teleiousthai, teleiopoios],
which are used in the same connexion. Secret formulas (the notion of
secret formulas itself comes from the Mysteries) were [Greek:
aporreta]. (Whether the words [Greek: photismos] and [Greek: sphragis]
in their sacramental meaning come from the Mysteries seems doubtful,
in spite of Hatch, _Hibbert Lectures_, p. 295.) Nor is the language of
the Mysteries applied only to the sacraments. Clement calls purgative
discipline [Greek: ta katharsia], and [Greek: ta mikra mysteria], and
the highest stage in the spiritual life [Greek: epopteia]. He also
uses such language as the following: "O truly sacred mysteries! O
stainless light! My way is lighted with torches, and I survey the
heavens and God! I am become holy while I am being initiated. The Lord
is my hierophant," etc. (_Protr._ xii. 120). Dionysius, as I have
shown in a note on Lecture III., uses the Mystery words frequently,
and gives to the orders of the Christian ministry the names which
distinguished the officiating priests at the Mysteries. The aim of
these writers was to prove that the Church offers a mysteriosophy
which includes all the good elements of the old Mysteries without
their corruptions. The alliance between a Mystery-religion and
speculative Mysticism within the Church was at this time as close as
that between the Neoplatonic philosophy and the revived pagan Mystery
cults. But when we try to determine the amount of direct _influence_
exercised by the later paganism on Christian usages and thought, we
are baffled both by the loss of documents, and by the extreme
difficulty of tracing the pedigree of religious ideas and customs. I
shall here content myself with calling attention to certain features
which were common to the Greek Mysteries and to Alexandrian
Christianity, and which may perhaps claim to be in part a legacy of
the old religion to the new. My object is not at all to throw
discredit upon modes of thought which may have been unfamiliar to
Palestinian Jews. A doctrine or custom is not necessarily un-Christian
because it is "Greek" or "pagan." I know of no stranger perversity
than for men who rest the whole weight of their religion upon
"history," to suppose that our Lord meant to raise an universal
religion on a purely Jewish basis.

The Greek Mysteries were perhaps survivals of an old-world ritual,
based on a primitive kind of Nature-Mysticism. The "public Mysteries,"
of which the festival at Eleusis was the most important, were so
called because the State admitted strangers by initiation to what was
originally a national cult. (There were also private Mysteries,
conducted for profit by itinerant priests [Greek: agyrtai] from the
East, who as a class bore no good reputation.) The main features of
the ritual at Eleusis are known. The festival began at Athens, where
the _mystae_ collected, and, after a fast of several days, were
"driven" to the sea, or to two salt lakes on the road to Eleusis, for
a purifying bath. This kind of baptism washed away the stains of their
former sins, the worst of which they were obliged to confess before
being admitted to the Mysteries. Then, after sacrifices had been
offered, the company went in procession to Eleusis, where
Mystery-plays were performed in a great hall, large enough to hold
thousands of people, and the votaries were allowed to handle certain
sacred relics. A sacramental meal, in which a mixture of mint,
barley-meal, and water was administered to the initiated, was an
integral part of the festival. The most secret part of the ceremonies
was reserved for the [Greek: epoptai] who had passed through the
ordinary initiation in a previous year. It probably culminated in the
solemn exhibition of a corn-ear, the symbol of Demeter. The obligation
of silence was imposed not so much because there were any secrets to
reveal, but that the holiest sacraments of the Greek religion might
not be profaned by being brought into contact with common life. This
feeling was strengthened by the belief that _words_ are more than
conventional symbols of things. A sacred formula must not be taken in
vain, or divulged to persons who might misuse it.

The evidence is strong that the Mysteries had a real spiritualising
and moralising influence on large numbers of those who were initiated,
and that this influence was increasing under the early empire. The
ceremonies may have been trivial, and even at times ludicrous; but the
discovery had been made that the performance of solemn acts of
devotion in common, after ascetical preparation, and with the aid of
an impressive ritual, is one of the strongest incentives to piety.
Diodorus is not alone in saying (he is speaking of the Samothracian
Mysteries) that "those who have taken part in them are said to become
more pious, more upright, and in every way better than their former
selves."

The chief motive force which led to the increased importance of
Mystery-religion in the first centuries of our era, was the desire for
"salvation" ([Greek: soteria]), which both with pagans and Christians
was very closely connected with the hope of everlasting life.
Happiness after death was the great promise held out in the Mysteries.
The initiated were secure of blessedness in the next world, while the
uninitiated must expect "to lie in darkness and mire after their
death" (cf. Plato, _Phaedrus_, 69).

How was this "salvation" attained or conferred? We find that several
conflicting views were held, which it is impossible to keep rigidly
separate, since the human mind at one time inclines to one of them, at
another time to another.

(a) Salvation is imparted by _revelation_. This makes it to depend
upon _knowledge_; but this knowledge was in the Mysteries conveyed by
the spectacle or drama, not by any intellectual process. Plutarch (_de
Defect. Orac._ 22) says that those who had been initiated could
produce no demonstration or proof of the beliefs which they had
acquired. And Synesius quotes Aristotle as saying that the initiated
do not _learn_ anything, but rather receive impressions ([Greek: ou
mathein ti dein alla pathein]). The old notion that monotheism was
taught as a secret dogma rests on no evidence, and is very unlikely.
There was a good deal of [Greek: theokrasia], as the ancients called
it, and some departures from the current theogonies, but such doctrine
as there was, was much nearer to pantheism than to monotheism. Certain
truths about nature and the facts of life were communicated in the
"greatest mysteries," according to Clement, and Cicero says the same
thing. And sometimes the [Greek: gnosis soterias] includes knowledge
about the whence and whither of man ([Greek: tines esmen kai ti
gegonamen], Clem. _Exc. ex Theod._ 78). Some of the mystical formulae
were no doubt susceptible of deep and edifying interpretations,
especially in the direction of an elevated nature-worship.

(b) Salvation was regarded, as in the Oriental religions, as
emancipation from the fetters of human existence. Doctrines of this
kind were taught especially in the Orphic Mysteries, where it was a
secret doctrine ([Greek: aporretos logos], Plat. _Phaedr._ 62) that
"we men are here in a kind of prison," or in a tomb ([Greek: sema
tines to soma einai tes psyches, os tethammenes en to paronti],
Plat. _Crat._ 400). They also believed in transmigration of souls, and
in a [Greek: kuklos tes geneseos] (rota fati et generationis). The
"Orphic life," or rules of conduct enjoined upon these mystics,
comprised asceticism, and, in particular, abstinence from flesh; and
laid great stress on "following of God" [Greek: epesthai] or
[Greek: akolouthein to theo] as the goal of moral endeavour. This cult,
however, was tinged with Thracian barbarism; its heaven was a kind of
Valhalla ([Greek: methe aionios], Plat. _Rep._ ii. 363). Very similar
was the rule of life prescribed by the Pythagorean brotherhood, who
were also vegetarians, and advocates of virginity. Their system of
purgation, followed by initiation, liberated men "from the grievous
woeful circle" ([Greek: kyklou d'exeptan Barypentheos argaleoio] on a
tombstone), and entitled them "to a happy life with the gods." (For
the conception of salvation as deification, see Appendix C.) Whether
these sects taught that our separate individuality must be merged is
uncertain; but among the Gnostics, who had much in common with the
Orphic _mystae_, the formula, "I am thou, and thou art I," was common
(_Pistis Sophia_; formulae of the Marcosians; also in an invocation of
Hermes: [Greek: to son onoma emon kai to emon son. ego gar eimi to
eidolon son]. Rohde, _Psyche_, vol. ii. p. 61). A foretaste of this
deliverance was given by initiation, which conducts the mystic to
_ecstasy_, an [Greek: oligochronios mania] (Galen), in which "animus
ita solutus est et vacuus ut ei plane nihil sit cum corpore" (Cic. _De
Divin._ i. I. 113); which was otherwise conceived as [Greek:
enthousiasmos] ([Greek: enthousioses kai ouketi ouses en eaute dianoias],
Philo).

(c) The imperishable Divine nature is infused by mechanical means.
Sacraments and the like have a magical or miraculous potency. The
Homeric hymn to Demeter insists only on _ritual_ purity as the
condition of salvation, and we hear that people trusted to the mystic
baptism to wash out all their previous sins. Similarly the baptism of
blood, the _taurobolium_, was supposed to secure eternal happiness,
at any rate if death occurred within twenty years after the ceremony;
when that interval had elapsed, it was common to renew the rite. (We
find on inscriptions such phrases as "arcanis perfusionibus in
aeternum renatus.") So mechanical was the operation of the Mysteries
supposed to be, that rites were performed for the dead (Plat. _Rep._
364. St. Paul seems to refer to a similar custom in 1 Cor. xv. 29),
and infants were appointed "priests," and thoroughly initiated, that
they might be clean from their "original sin." Among the Gnostics, a
favourite phrase was that initiation releases men "from the fetters of
fate and necessity"; the gods of the intelligible world ([Greek:
theoi noetoi]) with whom we hold communion in the Mysteries being
above "fate."

(d) Salvation consists of moral regeneration. The efficacy of
initiation without moral reformation naturally appeared doubtful to
serious thinkers. Diogenes is reported to have asked, "What say you?
Will Pataecion the thief be happier in the next world than
Epaminondas, because he has been initiated?" And Philo says, "It often
happens that good men are not initiated, but that robbers, and
murderers, and lewd women are, if they pay money to the initiators and
hierophants." Ovid protests against the immoral doctrine of mechanical
purgation with more than his usual earnestness (_Fasti_, ii. 35):--


"Omne nefas omnemque mali purgamina causam
Credebant nostri tollere posse senes.
Graecia principium moris fuit; ilia nocentes
Impia lustratos ponere facta putat.
A! nimium faciles, qui tristia crimina caedis
Fluminea tolli posse putetis aqua!"


Such passages show that abuses existed, but also that it was felt to
be a scandal if the initiated person failed to exhibit any moral
improvement.

These different conceptions of the office of the Mysteries cannot, as
I have said, be separated historically. They all reappear in the
history of the Christian sacraments. The main features of the
Mystery-system which passed into Catholicism are the notions of
secrecy, of symbolism, of mystical brotherhood, of sacramental grace,
and, above all, of the three stages in the spiritual life, ascetic
purification, illumination, and [Greek: epopteia] as the crown.

The secrecy observed about creeds and liturgical forms had not much to
do with the development of Mysticism, except by associating sacredness
with obscurity (cf. Strabo, x. 467, [Greek: he krypsis he mystike
semnopoiei to theion, mimoumene ten physin autou ekpheugousan ten
aisthesin]), a tendency which also showed itself in the love of
symbolism. This certainly had a great influence, both in the form of
allegorism (cf. Clem. _Strom_, i. 1. 15, [Greek: esti de ha kai
ainixetai moi he graphe; peirasetai de kai ganthanousa eipein kai
epikryptomene ekphenai kai deixai sioposa]), which Philo calls "the
method of the Greek Mysteries," and in the various kinds of
Nature-Mysticism. The great value of the Mysteries lay in the facilities
which they offered for free symbolical interpretation.

The idea of mystical union by means of a common meal was, as we have
seen, familiar to the Greeks. For instance, Plutarch says (_Non fosse
suav. vivi sec. Epic._ 21), "It is not the wine or the cookery that
delights us at these feasts, but good hope, and the belief that God is
present with us, and that He accepts our service graciously." There
have always been two ideas of sacrifice, alike in savage and civilised
cults--the mystical, in which it is a _communion_, the victim who is
slain and eaten being himself the god, or a symbol of the god; and the
commercial, in which something valuable is offered to the god in the
hope of receiving some benefit in exchange. The Mysteries certainly
encouraged the idea of communion, and made it easier for the Christian
rite to gather up into itself all the religious elements which can be
contained in a sacrament of this kind.

But the scheme of ascent from [Greek: katharsis] to [Greek: myesis], and
from [Greek: myesis] to [Greek: epopteia], is the great contribution of
the Mysteries to Christian Mysticism. Purification began, as we have seen,
with confession of sin; it proceeded by means of fasting (with which was
combined [Greek: agneia apo synousias]) and meditation, till the second
stage, that of illumination, was reached. The majority were content with
the partial illumination which belonged to this stage, just as in books of
Roman Catholic divinity "mystical theology" is a summit of perfection to
which "all are not called." The elect advance, after a year's interval at
least, to the full contemplation ([Greek: epopteia]). This highest truth
was conveyed in various ways--by visible symbols dramatically displayed,
by solemn words of mysterious import; by explanations of enigmas and
allegories and dark speeches (cf. Orig. _Cels._ vii. 10), and perhaps
by "visions and revelations." It is plain that this is one of the
cases in which Christianity conquered Hellenism by borrowing from it
all its best elements; and I do not see that a Christian need feel any
reluctance to make this admission.




APPENDIX C

The Doctrine Of Deification


The conception of salvation as the acquisition by man of Divine
attributes is common to many forms of religious thought. It was widely
diffused in the Roman Empire at the time of the Christian revelation,
and was steadily growing in importance during the first centuries of
our era. The Orphic Mysteries had long taught the doctrine. On
tombstones erected by members of the Orphic brotherhoods we find such
inscriptions as these: "Happy and blessed one! Thou shalt be a god
instead of a mortal" ([Greek: olbie kai makariste theos d' ese anti
brotoio]); "Thou art a god instead of a wretched man" ([Greek: theos
ei eleeinou ex anthropou]). It has indeed been said that "deification
was the idea of salvation taught in the Mysteries" (Harnack).

To modern ears the word "deification" sounds not only strange, but
arrogant and shocking. The Western consciousness has always tended to
emphasise the distinctness of individuality, and has been suspicious
of anything that looks like juggling with the rights of persons, human
or Divine. This is especially true of thought in the Latin countries.
_Deus_ has never been a fluid concept like [Greek: theos]. St.
Augustine no doubt gives us the current Alexandrian philosophy in a
Latin dress; but this part of his Platonism never became acclimatised
in the Latin-speaking countries. The Teutonic genius is in this matter
more in sympathy with the Greek; but we are Westerns, while the later
"Greeks" were half Orientals, and there is much in their habits of
thought which is strange and unintelligible to us. Take, for instance,
the apotheosis of the emperors. This was a genuinely Eastern mode of
homage, which to the true European remained either profane or
ridiculous. But Vespasian's last joke, "_Voe! puto Deus fio!_" would
not sound comic in Greek. The associations of the word [Greek: theos]
were not sufficiently venerable to make the idea of deification
([Greek: theopoiesis]) grotesque. We find, as we should expect, that
this vulgarisation of the word affected even Christians in the
Greek-speaking countries. Not only were the "barbarous people" of
Galatia and Malta ready to find "theophanies" in the visits of
apostles, or any other strangers who seemed to have unusual powers,
but the philosophers (except the "godless Epicureans") agreed in
calling the highest faculty of the soul Divine, and in speaking of
"the God who dwells within us." There is a remarkable passage of
Origen (quoted by Harnack) which shows how elastic the word [Greek:
theos] was in the current dialect of the educated. "In another sense
God is said to be an immortal, rational, moral Being. In this sense
every gentle ([Greek: asteia]) soul is God. But God is otherwise
defined as the self-existing immortal Being. In this sense the souls
that are enclosed in wise men are not gods." Clement, too, speaks of
the soul as "training itself to be God." Even more remarkable than
such language (of which many other examples might be given) is the
frequently recurring accusation that bishops, teachers, martyrs,
philosophers, etc., are venerated with Divine or semi-Divine honours.
These charges are brought by Christians against pagans, by pagans
against Christians, and by rival Christians against each other. Even
the Epicureans habitually spoke of their founder Epicurus as "a god."
If we try to analyse the concept of [Greek: theos], thus loosely and
widely used, we find that the prominent idea was that exemption from
the doom of death was the prerogative of a Divine Being (cf. 1 Tim.
vi. 16, "Who _only_ hath immortality"), and that therefore the gift of
immortality is itself a deification. This notion is distinctly adopted
by several Christian writers. Theophilus says (_ad Autol._ ii. 27)
"that man, by keeping the commandments of God, may receive from him
immortality as a reward ([Greek: misthon]), _and become God._" And
Clement (_Strom._ v. 10. 63) says, "To be imperishable ([Greek: to me
phtheiresthai]) is to share in Divinity." To the same effect
Hippolytus (_Philos._ x. 34) says, "Thy body shall be immortal and
incorruptible as well as thy soul. For _thou hast become God_. All the
things that follow upon the Divine nature God has promised to supply
to thee, for _thou wast deified in being born to immortality_." With
regard to later times, Harnack says that "after Theophilus, Irenaeus,
Hippolytus, and Origen, the idea of deification is found in all the
Fathers of the ancient Church, and that in a primary position. We have
it in Athanasius, the Cappadocians, Apollinaris, Ephraem Syrus,
Epiphanius, and others, as also in Cyril, Sophronius, and late Greek
and Russian theologians. In proof of it, Ps. lxxxii. 6 ('I said, Ye
are gods') is very often quoted." He quotes from Athanasius, "He
became man that we might be deified"; and from Pseudo-Hippolytus, "If,
then, man has become immortal, he will be God."

This notion grew within the Church as chiliastic and apocalyptic
Christianity faded away. A favourite phrase was that the Incarnation,
etc., "abolished death," and brought mankind into a state of
"incorruption" ([Greek: aphtharsia]) This transformation of human
nature, which is also spoken of as [Greek: theopoiesis] is the
highest work of the Logos. Athanasius makes it clear that what he
contemplates is no pantheistic merging of the personality in the
Deity, but rather a renovation after the original type.

But the process of deification may be conceived of in two ways: (a)
as essentialisation, (b) as substitution. The former may perhaps be
called the more philosophical conception, the latter the more
religious. The former lays stress on the high calling of man, and his
potential greatness as the image of God; the latter, on his present
misery and alienation, and his need of redemption. The former was the
teaching of the Neoplatonic philosophy, in which the human mind was
the throne of the Godhead; the latter was the doctrine of the
Mysteries, in which salvation was conceived of realistically as
something imparted or infused.

The notion that salvation or deification consists in realising our
true nature, was supported by the favourite doctrine that like only
can know like. "If the soul were not essentially Godlike ([Greek:
theoeides]), it could never know God." This doctrine might seem to
lead to the heretical conclusion that man is [Greek: omoousios to
Patri] in the same sense as Christ. This conclusion, however, was
strongly repudiated both by Clement and Origen. The former (_Strom._
xvi. 74) says that men are _not_ [Greek: meros theou kai to theo
omoousioi]; and Origen (_in Joh._ xiii. 25) says it is very impious to
assert that we are [Greek: omoousioi] with "the unbegotten nature."
But for those who thought of Christ mainly as the Divine Logos or
universal Reason, the line was not very easy to draw. Methodius says
that every believer must, through participation in Christ, be born as
a Christ,--a view which, if pressed logically (as it ought not to be),
implies either that our nature is at bottom identical with that of
Christ, or that the life of Christ is substituted for our own. The
difficulty as to whether the human soul is, strictly speaking, "divinae
particula aurae," is met by Proclus in the ingenious and interesting
passage quoted p. 34; "There are," he says, "three sorts of _wholes_,
(1) in which the whole is anterior to the parts, (2) in which the
whole is composed of the parts, (3) which knits into one stuff the
parts and the whole ([Greek: he tois holois ta mere sunyphainousa])."
This is also the doctrine of Plotinus, and of Augustine. God is not
split up among His creatures, nor are they essential to Him in the
same way as He is to them. Erigena's doctrine of deification is
expressed (not very clearly) in the following sentence (_De Div. Nat._
iii. 9): "Est igitur participatio divinae essentiae assumptio.
Assumptio vero eius divinae sapientiae fusio quae est omnium substantia
et essentia, et quaecumque in eis naturaliter intelliguntur."
According to Eckhart, the _Wesen_ of God transforms the soul into
itself by means of the "spark" or "apex of the soul" (equivalent to
Plotinus' [Greek: kentron psyches], _Enn._ vi. 9. 8), which is "so
akin to God that it is one with God, and not merely united to Him."

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Obituary: Donald Westlake
Articles published by guardian.co.uk Books

Theatre review: Three Women, Jermyn Street, London
Obituary: Prolific crime novelist, Oscar-nominated screenwriter and man of many pseudonyms

Obama to feature in Marvel comic

We do not know the women's names, but their voices are quite distinct. All are pregnant. But while the first woman awaits the birth of her baby with a moon-like serenity, the other two are not so lucky. One, whose previous pregnancies have failed to go to term, is experiencing a heartbreaking late miscarriage; the other is a young student whose accidental pregnancy will end in her child being put up for adoption.

Sylvia Plath's only play was never intended for the stage, being broadcast instead on BBC radio in August 1962. Less than six months later, Plath killed herself, but not before the burst of astonishing creative energy that produced her extraordinary, terrifying Ariel poems.

Anyone who knows Plath's poetry will see the connection between Three Women and Plath's subsequent poems, particularly in the way she talks about the agony of childbirth, the rush of love for this tiny alien being, and both the wonder and wounded rawness of motherhood. It is a beautiful piece, full of startling imagery that draws you in through the sheer intensity of its femaleness, and because it so precisely articulates the emotions that are often thought but seldom voiced by women - certainly not in the early 1960s - about men, motherhood and our relationship to our bodies.

It's been 20 years since there has been an attempt at a professional stage version and - in a theatre world that happily accepts the poetic offerings of Sarah Kane and Debbie Tucker Green, or the staged possibilities of The Waves, one of Plath's own inspirations for the piece, I see no reason why it shouldn't be brought to life. Sadly, it doesn't breathe here, in a production by Robert Shaw that is clearly a labour of love, but which never finds a way to give the internal a physical reality. Plath's poetry, like most babies, is more robust than it appears - and won't break if treated with a little less reverence and considerably more grit.

Instead, what we are offered is tinkling piano music, mournful mood lighting, an innocuous pale setting, as well as three perfectly good but indisputably ladylike performances that capture none of the wounded redness of Plath's poetry, and do her the disservice of making her sound bleached and somewhat prissy. It's a pity. What might have been a wonder ends up a mere curiosity.

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