Pale Horse, Pale Rider

[“The Miller’s Son”] is about how you waste time through flirtation. […] The Bergman film ends with Petra and Frid fucking in the grass!

Different plays have different shapes – spheres, rectangles, wavy lines, and of course the ever-discusses and ubiquitous arc. How will we find our own natural forms in the sense of the elemental, and when should we be suspicious of the word natural?…Aristotle thought form was natural, but he thought the natural form was always an arc. I remember once hearing a young male student describe the structure of his play. He said, ‘Well, first it starts out, then it speeds up, and it’s going and it’s going, and then bam, it’s over.’ And I thought, Do we think the arc is a natural structure because of the structure of the male orgasm?

Narrative art must be clear, but it must also be mysterious. Something should remain unsaid, something just beyond our understanding, a secret. If it’s only clear, it’s kitsch; if it’s only mysterious (a much easier path), it’s condescending and pretentious and soon monotonous.

I have found it easier to identify with the characters who verge upon hysteria, who were frightened of life, who were desperate to reach out to another person. But these seemingly fragile people are the strong people really.