Customer Reviews

The Fever (Evergreen original)

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Author Wallace Shawn wrote "This piece was originally written with the idea in mind that it could be performed in homes and apartments, for groups of ten or twelve".

This provacative, creative and revelatory monologue is based on several periods of participant observation by the author in Central America. He witnessed much suffering as a result of poverty and oppression. But after his return to the States, he had difficulty describing his emotional reactions to his Central American experiences. Hence, he wrote this play as a vehicle to get across the felt environment as opposed to a sanitizing description-by-words. And it works.

The narrator of Shawn's monologue is a Yankee traveling in a third world country who becomes violently ill and nearly incapacitated on the floor of his hotel room's bathroom. From the view of his bathroom floor, he recounts his privileged life and his eventual realization that his standard of living is maintained at the expense of others less fortunate than him. The narrator narrates that "We need the poor. Without the poor to get the fruit off the trees, to tend the excrement under the ground, to bathe our babies on the day they're born, we couldn't exist. If the poor were not poor, if the poor were paid the way we're paid, we couldn't afford to buy an apple, a shirt, we couldn't afford to take a trip, to spend a night at an inn in a nearby town". Certainly an Amishman, Mennonite or other farmer might feel that Shawn has gotten carried away in his delirium because most farmers are thankful that city people can't be bothered with growing their own food.

In conclusion, the reader (or listener) is left feeling that poverty and oppression is not merely unjust, but is bothered if he or she does not to do something about it. An intriguing dramatic method to promote social action.

As an actor, I heard about The Fever while reading a diary by playwright David Hare, about his writing and performing a one man show. He kept mentioning Wallace Shawn's work, including The Fever, so I bought a copy, as I am very interested in one man shows, which this book is. From the opening paragraph, all the way through, this is one of the most emotionally searing pieces of theatre that I have ever read. I have read the opening few pages to a teen drama team that I coach and they had never heard anything like it. It's not what you normally read in high school English class. I showed it to a woman who is a Christian counsellor, someone who resonates with emotional pieces and she was very moved. I found this one man play so powerful, that I have decided that I want to perform it in the future--I have started memorizing it. The Fever is so well written, it's full of material for an actor to want to perform, it's a very strong example of the quality of writing any actor wishing to write and perform a one man show should look up to. It is a gut wrenching story, a powerful piece of social theatre. I recommend it for all actors and playwrights if you haven't read it. And it gives you plenty of things to think about as you interact with other people all over the world.

I have just finished The Fever. I feel guilt, and awe. I am smitten by the images of wealth I know and images of suffering and poverty I know. What are these sights? Has my original reaction, when I first saw them changed? Do I know how life works? Where are my ideals?
This is a silent walk out of the theatre. That is, assuming I ever saw The Fever performed. Knowing Wallace Shawn as an actor I figure a flurry of humorous and bizarre moments would sustain my attention, because of his distinct personality, whether they were called for or not. But then a weight of truth and alienation. The Fever is not funny. But it is vividly alive, and if you think everything is okay, then it is dead. With The Fever, nothing is okay.
A necessary piece of moving socio-political theatre.

This uniquely humanist play is brilliantly argued and sensitively written. It takes place in an imaginary land where Marxist principals are dominant. The authors language is not spoken there and the sense of isolation and alienation is palpable throughout. However it is a play of revelations and relative values. It's about us and them, the rich and the poor, the have and the have nots, the chambermaids and the hotel enjoying luxury seeking, book reading ruling classes. It's really about where conscience begins and responsibility ends. Shawns highly articulate language never talks down to us and never leaves us in any doubt about our debt to the developing world. Never has a play made me feel so compelled to do all I can on an individual level to live a good and decent life. The irony is, and this is his skill as a dramatist and political analyst, even this is not enough. We are so steeped in blood as to be all to blame for the suffering and pain involved in the cost of putting even the most basic of things like a cup of coffee on our table.

My father gave me this book after he read it; after reading it myself, I bought copies for five of my closest friends. It can be read in a single night, seemingly as the author lived it, but will leave an indelible imprint on how you view the world. It is not an easy book to digest -- for weeks afterword I anguished over whether I should sell most of my possessions and give the proceeds to the poor. That anguish eventually receded to the back of my mind, but has never completely left me. Even those who don't accept Shawn's argument that our First World privilege is achieved at the price of Third World misery will find essential questions to grapple with here. This is a book that will not easily let you go. Shawn is a national treasure, both as a comedian and a philosopher.

Shawn holds a special place in American theater as a parlor artist for friends and family whose talents have made him a star. He does staged readings of his new work at Lincoln Center with Meryl Streep and the like. Hyper elitism. Still, his talent is there and it is unlikely to go global any time soon. "The Fever" is an interesting distillation of some of his concerns as a playwright. One is his moral concern for the relationship between wealth and our dependence not on oil but on poverty to sustain our lifestyles. Another is our belief that we are better than that other group of people who don't care as much as we do. In other words, we not only don't do anything, but we feel smugly satisfied in our belief that caring is a form of action. Finally, he indicts liberals in particular for suffocating all serious discussion out of our guilt and shame, so that nothing ever happens. He writes in a high-pitched, feverish style and possibly makes his point, although I couldn't say he is overly optimistic, knowing as he does that only the rich can afford his kind of theater.