DIALOGUES
HOLDING ON, HOLDING UP
DEREK McCRACKEN
Carrie Paff in Theatre for a New Audience's production of ABOUT ALICE by Calvin Trillin, directed by Leonard Foglia. Photo by Henry Grossman.
A
mong the obituaries published in the New York Times on September 13th, 2001, one headline says simply, “Alice Trillin, 63, Educator, Author and Muse, Is Dead.” Although accurate, this information belies Trillin’s multifaceted influence; she was also a curriculum pioneer, consultant, faculty and board member, alumnae, film producer, activist, mother and wife. Her husband, writer Calvin Trillin, often included Alice in his essays, articles and books, a tradition that continues posthumously in the two-character play About Alice. As they did in life and literature, the Trillins as characters reunite onstage so audiences can bear witness to scenes from their lifelong marriage, one in which love prevails even as cancer intrudes. Tabloid trash, be gone! The Trillins’ tale is not a sordid one. In the play, tension and conflict emerge from a proverbial card dealer’s
perspective: all hands are shown and known—but now what? ALICE: For me, the measure of how you hold up in the face of a life-threatening illness is not how well you change but how much you stay the same. The worst thing cancer can do is rob you of your identity. Energy, hair, sleep, personhood—cancer can be the thief of all of these. The crisis then becomes more than criminal; it’s existential. ALICE: Who I am has always had a lot to do with how I look, and I need to be who I am now more than at any other time. Even if I’m dying, I have to hold on to this recognizable identity. In About Alice, Trillin the widower creates space for his wife to step center stage with a narrative that glows with both humility and humor. That’s a relief, and typical Trillin. ABOUT ALICE 7