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jessandallthatjazz's review against another edition
dark
emotional
funny
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.75
sarabearian's review against another edition
Long Day's Journey into Night is an autobiographical play about one very sad day for the Tyrones, a family that is riddled with addictions; all three of the males (father and two sons) suffer from alcoholism and their mother is horribly addicted to morphine. The story tells how addiction affects not only the addicted, but those around them and the family dynamics that come into play with addiction. -Ryan P.
blak_lotus's review against another edition
5.0
Incredible short read for my modernist literature class. A story of addiction that I understand all too well. My favorite line: “None of us can help the things life has done to us. They’re done before you realize it, and once they’re done they make you do other things until at last everything comes between you and what you’d like to be, and you’ve lost your true self forever.”
jacobbou's review against another edition
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
firstwords's review against another edition
3.0
This reads well, but would be much better performed (obviously). The dialogue is well-thought-out and the staging thorough. I also learned that the phrase "dope fiend" did not start with 80s hip-hop.
ejreadswords's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
“Maybe no one else gives a damn if you die, but I do. My kid brother. I love your guts, Kid. Everything else is gone. You’re all I’ve got left.”
My Acting Technique teacher Josh at Stella Adler — who I think the world of, and am so profoundly inspired by after every class — frequently cites this play in class. He uses it as an example a lot in terms of ‘character,’ ‘objective’ (for James Tyrone Sr., his objective is to ‘get this fucking night over with’). Josh spoiled the entire play, essentially, in our first class, but the tragedy of the arc of the story actually just compelled me to buy a copy for myself and read. I’m a sucker for long-gestating familial drama; and boy, is that what this play is about!
And it’s, quite horrifyingly and vulnerably, largely an autobiographical work for Eugene O’Neill — his character equivalent is the sickly Edmund in this story. This play was not published while he was alive, and it’s now considered his masterpiece and he won the Pulitzer for Drama posthumously. Once on Broadway, it also won the Tony for Best Play.
“To hell with sense! We’re all crazy. What do we want with sense?”
I’ve long related to the Irish Catholics, and maybe that’s because of the strong familial ties, the Catholic guilt, and the problems spurred by alcoholism — mostly because of built-up traumas and the incorrect, or misguided, attempts at remedying those traumas. This play is funny, it's mean, it's so honest, and it is LIFE. I understand each character; they're all right, and they're all wrong. You can't blame any of them. And sure, you can. But you aren't in their shoes. Despite everything, it's such empathetic writing for each character.
And this play has some beautiful dialogue — vicious and vitriolic, painful yet profound. From the opening scene descriptions and the attention-to-detail of books on the Tyrone bookshelves, you just know that there will be intelligent conversations on art, the burdens of art, and on varying philosophies in regards to life, death, religion, and the hereafter.
There’s many reasons for these conflicting viewpoints and discontent; and a lot of it ties back to the dark power of money — needing it to provide, but also being so driven by it (what’s the value of a dollar?). Its importance so emphasized because of Senior’s poor upbringing in Ireland, and then him being a penny-pincher because that’s all he knows — and him being blamed for being cheap and providing below-average healthcare and doctoral options for Mary and Edmund. This play really gets in there, and these characters are exorcising the demons that have long been festering for years, if not decades.
“But I suppose life has made him like that, and he can’t help it. None of us can help the things life has done to us. They’re done before you realize it, and once they’re done they make you do other things until at last everything comes between you and what you’d like to be; and you’ve lost your true self forever.”
Poor Mary. Poor Senior. Poor Edmund. Poor Jamie. And yes, Poor Cathleen.
A masterwork. Never have I seen so much stage direction or character description in a play, but it really, really works for this play. It’s so easy to visualize; however I can’t wait to watch a production of this, or a film, or to PERFORM in it. I think I could do either of the brothers right now or James Senior when I’m older; let’s just pretend I’m Irish for the sake of it. Or I’d love to adapt this and make a Filipino version of this…
“I know you still love me, James, in spite of everything.”
My Acting Technique teacher Josh at Stella Adler — who I think the world of, and am so profoundly inspired by after every class — frequently cites this play in class. He uses it as an example a lot in terms of ‘character,’ ‘objective’ (for James Tyrone Sr., his objective is to ‘get this fucking night over with’). Josh spoiled the entire play, essentially, in our first class, but the tragedy of the arc of the story actually just compelled me to buy a copy for myself and read. I’m a sucker for long-gestating familial drama; and boy, is that what this play is about!
And it’s, quite horrifyingly and vulnerably, largely an autobiographical work for Eugene O’Neill — his character equivalent is the sickly Edmund in this story. This play was not published while he was alive, and it’s now considered his masterpiece and he won the Pulitzer for Drama posthumously. Once on Broadway, it also won the Tony for Best Play.
“To hell with sense! We’re all crazy. What do we want with sense?”
I’ve long related to the Irish Catholics, and maybe that’s because of the strong familial ties, the Catholic guilt, and the problems spurred by alcoholism — mostly because of built-up traumas and the incorrect, or misguided, attempts at remedying those traumas. This play is funny, it's mean, it's so honest, and it is LIFE. I understand each character; they're all right, and they're all wrong. You can't blame any of them. And sure, you can. But you aren't in their shoes. Despite everything, it's such empathetic writing for each character.
And this play has some beautiful dialogue — vicious and vitriolic, painful yet profound. From the opening scene descriptions and the attention-to-detail of books on the Tyrone bookshelves, you just know that there will be intelligent conversations on art, the burdens of art, and on varying philosophies in regards to life, death, religion, and the hereafter.
There’s many reasons for these conflicting viewpoints and discontent; and a lot of it ties back to the dark power of money — needing it to provide, but also being so driven by it (what’s the value of a dollar?). Its importance so emphasized because of Senior’s poor upbringing in Ireland, and then him being a penny-pincher because that’s all he knows — and him being blamed for being cheap and providing below-average healthcare and doctoral options for Mary and Edmund. This play really gets in there, and these characters are exorcising the demons that have long been festering for years, if not decades.
“But I suppose life has made him like that, and he can’t help it. None of us can help the things life has done to us. They’re done before you realize it, and once they’re done they make you do other things until at last everything comes between you and what you’d like to be; and you’ve lost your true self forever.”
Poor Mary. Poor Senior. Poor Edmund. Poor Jamie. And yes, Poor Cathleen.
A masterwork. Never have I seen so much stage direction or character description in a play, but it really, really works for this play. It’s so easy to visualize; however I can’t wait to watch a production of this, or a film, or to PERFORM in it. I think I could do either of the brothers right now or James Senior when I’m older; let’s just pretend I’m Irish for the sake of it. Or I’d love to adapt this and make a Filipino version of this…
“I know you still love me, James, in spite of everything.”
nikanix123's review against another edition
challenging
dark
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
gudgercollege's review against another edition
4.0
Imagine paying to see this, sitting in a room with strangers for three hours, getting more and more depressed as these drunks angrily quote poetry at each other. Never in a million years.
win_monroe's review against another edition
5.0
9/10
A powerful masterpiece of profound emotional turmoil in a deeply dysfunctional family. Masterfully written, O'Neill exorcises his personal demons in this highly autobiographical story of a family haunted ghosts of the past, present, and future. Most deeply the book is, in my reading, about difficulty of forgiveness for the "things life has done to us."
A powerful masterpiece of profound emotional turmoil in a deeply dysfunctional family. Masterfully written, O'Neill exorcises his personal demons in this highly autobiographical story of a family haunted ghosts of the past, present, and future. Most deeply the book is, in my reading, about difficulty of forgiveness for the "things life has done to us."