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Play Fellowsby Susan McLeanEugene O’Neillneeded audiences with buns of steel. In Long Day’s Journey into Night, the title’s right. Clare Boothe Luce showed sauce for the gander suits the goose. In The Women, those whose husbands have been lost become saucy—or sauced. Arthur Miller knew Death of a Salesman was no thriller. He felt obliged to mention that people should pay attention. David Henry Hwang hates having his name pronounced wrong. It would further raise his hackles (if he had ’em) to be asked “Is M. short for Madam?”
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Susan McLean is a professor of English at Southwest Minnesota State University. Her poems have appeared in The Formalist, Iambs and Trochees, Light Quarterly, and elsewhere. A chapbook of her autobiographical poems, Holding Patterns, is available from Finishing Line Press.