By Jean-Paul Sartre
Fable / Characters: 2 male, 2 female
No go out used to be first offered in long island on the Biltmore Theatre with Claude Dauphin, Annabella, and Ruth Ford. ladies and one guy are locked up jointly for eternity in a single hideous room in hell. The home windows are bricked up; there are not any mirrors; the electrical lighting can by no means be grew to become off; and there's no go out. The irony of this hell is that its torture isn't of the rack and hearth, yet of the burning humiliation of every soul because it is stripped of its pretenses through the tough interest of the damned. the following the soul is shorn of secrecy, or even the blackest deeds are mercilessly uncovered to the fierce gentle of hell. it really is an everlasting torment.
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Additional info for No Exit
Why, now, should it be disagreeable? Ah, I see; it's life without a break. Could hell be described as too much of anything without a break? Are variety, moderation and balance instruments we use to keep us from boiling in any inferno of excess,' whether it be cheesecake or ravenous sex? VALET: What are you talking about? GARCIN: Your eyelids. We move ours up and down. Blinking, we call it. It's like a small black shutter that clicks down and makes a break. Everything goes black; one's eyes are moistened.
You can have him now. Isn't it FOUL, Garcin? She's told him everything, about Roger, my trip to Switzerland, the baby. "Poor Estelle wasn't exactly—" "No, I wasn't exactly— True enough. He's looking grave, shaking his head, but he doesn't seem so much surprised, not what one would expect. Keep him then— I won't haggle with you over his long eyelashes, his pretty girlish face. They're yours for the asking. His glancing stream, his crystal. Well, the crystal's shattered into bits. " Dance, dance, dance.
What was I to do? " Well, I dared. I folded my arms and they shot me. Had I done anything wrong? ESTELLE: Wrong? On the contrary. You were— INEZ: —a hero! And how about your wife, Mr. Garcin? GARCIN: That's simple. I'd rescued her from— from the gutter. ESTELLE: You see! You see! INEZ: Yes, I see. Look here! What' s the point of play-acting, trying to throw dust in each other's eyes? We're all tarred with the same brush. ESTELLE: How dare you! INEZ: Yes, we are criminals— murderers— all three of us.