Tag Archives: Wilde

Daylight and the Dead Centre of Paris

October can mean any type of weather – the veritable four seasons in a day. But sometimes, like today, you get that low golden, honeyed sunshine of late Autumn that plays hide and seek in the fluttering leaves.


A few metro line changes and climbing into the fresh air, emerged from the dark heat to blue skies at Père Lachaise Cemetary. The most prestigious final resting address, last home to the great, the affluent and the famous, it is now tended by the Marie de Paris. Sandy paths and cobbled walkways weave along this huge park of the dead, and visitors and tourists alike lose hours in the maze of crypts, monuments and mausoleums.


Finally we got to our goal, the grave of Oscar, recently cleaned and restored with a special protective Perspex surround. But what a shocking desecration…..


I whispered my prayer of thanks…and left….no trace behind.

The play’s the thing….

When a play is not sure if it is still a book it can suffer from an existential crisis. That was my experience last night sitting in the Abbey theatre in Dublin. I felt the story and language and themes of a novel attempt to force itself out through the skin of a play and it was uncomfortable viewing. Brave attempts to push together themes and speak through conceits. But ultimately unsatisfying.

Today, another theatre, another cast, another book. Or to be specific a book of short stories. And yet these mini moments, our glimpses of epiphanies were so vividly and robustly rendered as if the characters had stepped from the page in front of us.

This is why theatre is so addictive, voyeuristic draw among the artifice. For a few hours I held my breath, the world stilled its incessant spin and I was a world away…..in Dublin.