Death And The Maiden

Sunday 10 June morning

We remember it well, Lara and I. In the spring of 1992, we took Lara's friend Rama (who had just gotten to know me) to a matinee in a New York theater where a play had opened to great reviews. The Chilean playwright Ariel Dorfman had written an arresting piece for three actors, called "Death And The Maiden". The stellar cast consisted of Gene Hackman, Richard Dreyfuss and Glenn Close. The play appealed to us with a directness that was almost raw, set as it is in the aftermath of massive and egregious human rights violations under General Pinochet - or General Videla. To Lara and myself, human rights were our bread and butter; it was what had brought us together, a language that bound us very tightly. The title of the play was borrowed from the Schubert Quartet by the same name. The music itself is stunning, and once you have heard it, will stay with you for days. Haunting.

Leslie, Lara's sister, thought it would be appropriate to play it for Lara. She was right. It now rings out softly over the stereo as I write. I look across the room and surmise we're going to have a late breakfast today. Then again, what are slow Sunday mornings for, after all? Following the morning routine, Lara is completely out and a few couging fits have taken a lot of buzz out of her from the start. She just lies and listens, letting her consciousness go were it will take her.

Our GP, was here around 10:30AM. She joins us again for a cappuccino and marvels how Lara sits at the table putting away her breakfast with gusto. As I escort her to the door she tells me: "Astonishing she can still do what she's doing with so little in her veins. I have never ever seen this before. She must be able draw on hidden reserves somewhere."