MECCA by Ted Whitehead
Oppressive heat. Scalding sunlight. Not a whisper of a breeze. The place is a vacation resort near Marrakesh in Morocco, but the guests' garden patio might almost be a military compound under siege. Its protective wall is topped with shards of implanted glass and barbed wire. Palm fronds are silhouettes against an implacably blue sky, and in the distance one hears the eerie, insinuative call of the muezzin, summoning the faithful of Islam to prayer.
If one wants guidelines to the cross-cultural resonances in Mecca, currently at Manhattan's Quaigh Theater,...
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