Ben Brantley took The Glory of Living to be a play about a serial killer, and I don’t think it is. It’s a play about consciencelessness, yes, but not the kind one is born with. Gilman is writing about a kind of moral disability that we’re not used to regarding as tragic and are strongly disinclined to view that way. We’re in Manson country here. This is absence of conscience brought about by powerlessness of a very profound and particular kind. Continue reading

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