We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
And the Hedy Weiss spectacle in Chicago ends in the way it began. Not with a bang but a whimper. Its only accomplishment was the denigration of both theatre and criticism.
Theatre as an art form is more than just the manufacturer of a consumer product subject to the whim of a newspaper review. Audience is something other than the Wal-Mart shopper. Yet playwrights will often cast the press as scapegoat for the culture’s lack of attention to theatre and their lack of a career.
We whisper together “If only Hedy Weiss were gone, Chicago would be a great theatre town.”
The 22 Dramatists Guild letters now sit in their vault, quiet and meaningless.