LORD MALQUIST AND MR. MOON
by Tom Stoppard
The author of the prize-winning play, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, again pursues the matter of the bewildered manipulated man in the midst of tottering empires and proliferating machines and chaos.
"I cannot commit myself to either side of a question," states Mr. Moon, "because if you attach yourself to one or the other you disappear into it." But, like the hapless waiting gentlemen of the play, a careful neutrality leads only to erratic bumps and blips along the surface of frenzied and monstrous events. Yet Mr. Moon, cradling his homemade bomb does plan an explosion to set things right, to shock people into recognition of something amiss. Stoppard has tossed up wise nonsense here and one may pick happily away at what is recognizable of pleasure, for the writing is witty and often hilarious. Among the persons gathered at the time of the great State Funeral (one might chance a guess) in Great Britain: Lord Malquist, an aristocratic anachronism who yet predicts the era of the Spectator here: Jane, Moon's wife, seldom discovered alone or with clothes; the Rison Christ with donkey, who misses his "multitude"; O'Hara, a Negro with a strong Jewish accent; assorted cowboys; an eternally loving Lady Malquist; a lion, falcon, etc. You see, Moon and Lord Malquist, his employer, or patron, or client are driving amongst the crowds in a coach...but no matter.
Allegorical, phantasmagorical, funny and youthfully sage.