bent january 2023

Ron Weiss

Lessons from the Past Response

Script Analysis

1-16-23

A story I have been thinking about alot today is the play Bent by Martin Sherman. I think this plays hits all four of aristotles qualifications for a story. It imitates the holocaust and a way it could have been, has a strong action for the main character, a beginning middle and end, and strongly effects the audience through pity, fear, and many other high emotions. Aside from aristotles reasoning, I feel like this is a strong story because of how high the stakes are and how affected audiences have been by this piece throughout history.

For me though, this story ties into my continuous flourishing as a queer person and it is a reminder of how far I have come. When I first read the play, I found it striking, I found myself unsatisfied with the ending, thrown off, beaten up and chewed out and left with no home to crawl back to. That was sometime in my senior year of high school, when I was a cis straight man.

My second read of this play, was still striking, but this time, I was left feeling upset, but not unsatisfied, and with a stronger understanding of the central question of the play: is life worth living if I can not be my true self? The point of the play (which completely went over my head on the first read) is not missed on me now and reflects a struggle that has become increasingly important to me over the past year and a half. Showing the world the dangers of suppression has had a steady climb up my personal artistic statement and this play as a vehicle does this incredibly well.

It also has a structure that I find really exciting and enjoyable. The first scene feels like a contemporary slice of life, but the surprise at the end of the scene puts us right in the time and place. I feel like this sets up the idea that while this is the holocaust and there is very specific respect to be paid, it also reminds me that this story happens all the time. It’s a great example of forcing the audience to put this older play into the context of contemporary life.

This story also lies at a very interesting crossroads for me. The holocaust has been a part of my life as long as I have been living, but queerness is relatively new to the party. Having a piece that shifts my lens to look at the holocaust in a new way is kind of freeing. I also realized through some conversations that lots of my friends have no idea that an estimated 10-15,000 queer people were sent to concentration camps by the Nazi regime. The fact that my queer community doesn’t know this history is so shocking to me because of how important it is to judaism. “Never again” is such weighted language to me, and I feel like this piece may shed some light on the reality that jewish people weren’t the only ones. It makes me think of the infamous Elie Wiesel Poem, while I feel it is important to remember the reality of the holocaust for jewish people, if we are the only one’s who care, we won’t be able to stop anything from happening again. Showing the queer community that this was a reality for our people, I think will help us realize when things like this happen again; such as the don’t say gay bill, trans bathroom laws, violence against trans people, etc.. We are stronger together, and with the lessons of our history behind us.

There is a second story I want to write about, but I’m unsure what Aristotle would think of it. Last semester I created a world under my bed, made with fake vines and grapes, lamps, hair clips, stuffed animals, a wooden hand, a croquette, push pins, black and gold animal statues, and butterfly hair clips. This story relies on its audience to create aristotles pillars, as the world is stagnant. I have my own idea of what the story could be, but that’s for me. I also have an idea of where the world will go or could go, but that’s a later project. This story is important to me because it reminds me of something I did for myself. This was not an assignment, it was not an exercise, I just got home, and got lost under my bed. Making this world. I spent time on it, got frustrated, broke it, redid it, hated it, loved it but I kept going and eventually it said to me: i’m finished for now,” and I stepped away graciously. My work done. A beautiful example of creating and then letting be. It also marked my first sculpture in a long time, and the first time I really called something sculpture. I love the process of creating and this one seemed to flow out of me, it was just genuinely one of my favorite moments.