Respond to What We Hear

¶ … Embers," the first interesting thing that I noticed was the background noise and the apparent denial of its meaning by Henry, who is also the first-person narrator. Henry claims that background noise to be the "sea," but to my ears it sounds like a highway with cars. Perhaps this is just my perception, but it is also possible that the ambiguity could be related to the very nature of the play as an internal vision. What sounds like vehicles to me might as well be the ocean. Henry appears to confirm this with the assertion that the sound of the actual sea may not be the same as is supposed.

In creating this type of internal world then, the radio artist in "Embers" creates uncertainty, not only in the narrator, but also in the audience. The narrator himself does not seem entirely certain of the reality of his world. The sound of his voice is that of an old man. In his mind, his memories still live with him and seem to energize him as if he is a young man. He speaks to the ghostly voices of his departed loved ones, in the form of his father and a lady named Ada, whom one might assume was his wife or romantic partner. His memories include his own time as a child, times with Ada, and their child when she was young.

On the whole, this play did not impress me very much. I think the most alienating thing for me was the hopelessness in Ada's and Henry's voices. All the emotion and caring they had in life seem to be lost from their voices. This is a significant departure from other types of radio play, where all the characters have some sort of motivation that intrinsically moves the story forward. In Henry's case, there is no need for motivation. He is old with memories that have no possibility of change. Those he cared about are dead or gone. Ada is dead already, which is evident in her voice. They simply talk and tell their story, without even as much as regret.

While this is sufficient for the type of play involved, it fails in terms of entertainment value. In failing to feel anything during his narration, Henry failed to make me care about him or his ghosts.

The play "Nightmare," on the other hand, was a little less devoid of life. The thing that struck me most about this play is its effective and sudden changes from scene to scene, just like a dream, or indeed a nightmare. Another interesting thing was the recurrence of elements like the hitting, the man with the black mustache, and the hitting. At first I assumed that Rogers used his fists, but later I was shocked when it was revealed to be a hammer. Furthermore, the ending, where the "truth" is revealed, is also striking, somewhat contributing to the overall nightmare effect.