For a few months I’d been looking forward to Stories on Stage on September 26 at the DCPA. They featured four short stories, all performed by actors: Rachel Fowler reading Lorrie Moore’s “You’re Ugly, Too,” Frank Corrado with Tobias Wolff’s “Bullet in the Brain,” Lauren Klein performing Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” and Elgin Kelley reading contest winner Kendal Muse’s “A Message by the Sarge.” The theme was “Nobody Likes a Smartass.”
It was amazing! The concept is brilliant: a cross between a fiction reading and a play. The actors read the stories, like you’d see at a reading, but because of their talent as actors, the stories came alive as if a full set of actors with props performed on stage. I was giddy at the prospect of hearing three stories by writers I admire all in one evening.
Rachel Fowler’s rendition of “You’re Ugly, Too” created a different idea of the characters in my mind. Like Life is the only adult book by Lorrie Moore I haven’t read yet, so I read the story just the week before the performance. Immediately I noticed the absence of the second person and word play as compared to her other stories. Sure, there’s some word play but not to the same extent as there is in the other ones. It was great to hear the character’s voices and Fowler’s interpretation of them.
Frank Corrado had the perfect voice for “Bullet in the Brain.” He spoke in a deep, resonate tone that echoed the violence in the story.
But Lauren Klein’s performance of “A Good Man is Hard to Find” was nothing short of phenomenal. Her voices for the characters, especially the children, John Wesley and June Star, were hilarious and sad just like O’Connor’s stories themselves. At first I was disappointed to see that they chose such a widely canonized story of O’Connor’s and not another one. I’d read it in half a dozen classes in high school and college, and a handful of times since then. It’s a great story, but I was afraid that since I was so familiar with it, that I’d accidentally tune out.
Instead, Klein made the story new for me. I’ve loved O’Connor’s work for what’s been called the “Southern Gothic,” as well as for the quality of tragic humor and the way she flips things around, making the faithless characters almost heros and showing the pious characters for what they are.
And maybe because I read through all of her stories (though it took at least a year), I became numb to the power in them. And maybe I experienced the story on a deeper level now that I have a child. Before I felt like the family got what was coming to them. Now I don’t like them, but I feel the terror and the shrieks coming from the forest. Now, I cringe at the outcome and how simply the men and the Misfit commit their crimes. Before I didn’t think too much of the Misfit, but now I had hope for him. I could see the “moment of grace” offered to him, his almost acceptance of it, the unlikely manifestation of grace through the conversation with the grandmother, and then his ultimate rejection of it and choice to continue with a life of crime, and the utter hopelessness of that choice. I am just in awe of how O’Connor can create characters, all of them so unsavory, and then allow the reader such a contradiction of feelings. She manages to show the complexity of people and grace and sin. Those words, so cliché on paper, so powerful in reality.
Suffice it to say, I highly recommend checking out Stories on Stage and, as always, Flannery O’Connor.
Oh, and here’s a YouTube video of the actors.

What’s the appeal of this performance art, over say a book on tape? What is gained by seeing it live?
I’m tempted to say this cheapens theater, but that’s probably just because I’m a bitter tech who’s sick of actors receiving all the attention.
Comment by steph — 2 October 2009 @ 1:12 pm
I can’t speak for performance art, per se, but the appeal of Stories on Stage is the stories. At least that’s what appealed to me. I was curious to see how a professional actor would read these stories, how the reading might differ from an author reading, and how their interpretation would compare to my own.
I’ve never really listened to books on tape (Does my 9th grade English teacher playing his own reading to the class count?), although I do listen to The New Yorker’s fiction podcast of short stories. I’m one of those who hears something and it goes in one ear and out the other. I have a hard time concentrating when I’m not looking at print. So a book on tape would never appeal to me, where as performance art might because it brings a communal aspect.
As a side note, before the event started, Ryan looked around the theater and noticed that it must have been a boring set for the techs. Only two lights, one microphone, and a few other things.
Comment by kristyn — 11 October 2009 @ 12:41 pm