The Huntington Theater's production of "The Corn is Green"

The Huntington Theater's wonderful cast and their performances (Kate Burton, her son Morgan Ritchie, Will LeBow, and all the rest) was not enough to keep me from feeling that this was a dated, tired play. It does have some good moments, the third act finally has a little tension, and there are the performances, especially if you simply want to see Kate Burton.

In its time (I think Emlyn Williams wrote it and first produced it in 1940), I suppose the depiction of the headstrong independent Miss Moffat might have seemed more original. We're to take it on faith that Miss Moffat is brilliant -- there's little evidence of it shown onstage. In the first act, the village boys are unruly childish louts. During the intermission, they become receptive bright-eyed eager-beavers, with Morgan surpassing them all as a natural genius (sort of like Tarzan, growing up in the jungle and learning to read and speak English in time for Jane). What Miss Moffat did to make this happen is unexplained. She is just magic.

The sets are homey and comfortable looking. The occasional background music between acts (Welsh choral music) is pretty but I can't tell if it has anything to do with the play. I guess the biggest reason to see this, aside from Will LeBow's humorous and lovable Squire character (a character he excels in), might be to watch Kate Burton. Except that she's simply playing Kate Burton. In the three or four performances we've seen with Kate Burton, she plays pretty much the same character -- Kate Burton, the center of attention, an actress who gives off a sense of energy and heat.

The New Reportory Theater's "Cabaret" is menacing and satisfying

We liked The New Repertory Theater's Cabaret. It's the third time we've seen the Kander and Ebb play in the last 15 years, and I'd say this was the best production.

How do you write about a play as complex as this? Some of the numbers are rollicking "fun" -- and yet we know about the rise of Hitler and the enormous tragedy to come. The director, Rick Lombardo (who's leaving the New Rep for San Jose at the end of the season) struck a good balance between the fun and the menace. This production brought out the sinister undertone of the play in a coherent way. It all made sense, whereas previous productions I'd seen left me confused -- why are these people enjoying themselves so much? In this production, we sense the desperation of the characters, despite the laughs and the jiggling Kit Kat girls.

Those Kit Kat girls -- they were hilariously dirty, and almost over the top with the sleazy bump and grind numbers. They were explicit and raw. And therefore perfect for the play.

I thought the stage was a bit big for this show -- with so much space, I didn't always feel the claustrophobic, crowded ambience of a cabaret. Aimee Doherty, who was wonderful as Sally Bowles, was reaching a bit in her "Cabaret" song near the end, a little too intent on producing a Lisa Minelli showstopper. And Cliff Bradshaw (nicely played by David Krinnit) puzzles me. If he is, or was, gay, then how can he be in a love affair with Sally? His sexual persona is ambiguous, yet the play depends on their love. That didn't make sense. Finally, John Kuntz was an excellent Emcee.

B.R. Myers's "A Reader's Manifesto": I agree with him, but why do these authors sell?

B.R. Myers wrote A Reader's Manifesto in 2002. The subtitle, An Attack on the Growing Pretentiousness in American Literary Prose, pretty much sums it up. The chapter titles themselves are satirical bits of lit-crit-speak: Evocative Prose, Muscular Prose, Edgy Prose, Spare Prose, and so on. It's a fast, entertaining read and -- unlike the lengthy quoted sections he takes from famous current authors -- it's well written. His basic premise is that much of what is praised as great current literary fiction is actually laughably mediocre.

Myers asserts that fiction, and the literary culture that surrounds it, has become pretentiously high brow and and that celebrated writers have come to ignore basic precepts of clear narrative story-telling in order to mystify and scam their readers.

It's easier to produce a gushy incomprehensible word soup than swift, thoughtful prose. Readers have to accept it or risk being considered unsophisticated. Myers pretty well demolishes Annie Proulx, Don DeLillo, Cormac McCarthy, Paul Auster, and David Guterson, using them as examples of what is bad, and yet critically praised.

When Myers quotes from novels, he's devastating. And after he has blasted each writer in turn, he makes the rubble bounce.

Myers: "Sure, Proulx has plenty of long sentences, but they are usually little more than lists:"

Annie Proulx (from a piece of her fiction): "Partridge black, small, a restless traveler across the slope of life, an all-night talker; Mercalia, second wife of Partridge and the color of a brown feather on dark water, a hot intelligence; Quoyle large, white, stumbling along, going nowhere."

I did start to feel sympathy for these writers, they're so thoroughly gutted, and their quoted excerpts so terrible. I've tried to read Annie Proulx, and found her constant stream of disconnected images too much. I've tried reading DeLillo, and felt bored. The others I haven't read.

I'm surprised Myers didn't make more of the academic background of literary fiction. Many contemporary "serious" writers have (or had) academic positions in English and Writing departments (by necessity). I think these writers find it hard not to write for their academic colleagues and their literary agendas -- a writing professor is naturally interested in gaining the esteem of fellow professors and department chairmen, and not necessarily that of readers in Butte, or Buffalo.

I agreed with a lot of what Myers says in this book. And I see the parallels to some of the theater we've seen produced in the last ten years. Yet, I wondered -- how do these writers keep getting published? I know that some people really like Annie Proulx, McCarthy, and the others. Can it really be that it's lit-crit cultural pressure and bullying that's making people buy their books?