(3 of 3)
The printed page cannot reproduce the magical, concentrated intensity of theater at its best. But the Library of America volumes display O'Neill more thoroughly than any playhouse ever could. And it is now easier to see his vaulting ambition as both his glory and his curse. He began by simply trying to put life as he had actually known and seen it onstage -- a far more daring concept in the America of his youth than it might now seem. But if small scenes worked, why not bigger ones? And if one character, why not dozens? This relentless amplification compelled the hushed attention of several generations of playgoers, but it also led the playwright farther and farther afield. Believing that more is actually more, O'Neill finally found that an evening's entertainment could not contain everything he had to say. Much of his work thus displays the flaw of hubris, the pride that refuses to bow to the demands of contingency. This drama, his struggle against his own art, may be his most memorable achievement.