When the Devil Walks In
Posted by David New on 2/09/2009
A number of times in post-show discussions, the question has been raised: “Why now, after 25 years, has the devil returned to collect on Sharky’s promise of a card game for his soul?” The reasons are glancingly hinted at in the play but a review of the facts makes a pretty clear case for it having something to do with Sharky’s conscience.
25 years ago in Limerick, a drunken Sharky assaulted a man and accidentally killed him. He spent the night in jail and played a card game with the Devil. He won the game and as a result, he was inexplicably released from jail without charge the next morning. However, in exchange, the devil made him promise to play another hand of cards in the future.
The next twenty-five years proceed with Sharky continuing to drink heavily. He also suffers from terrible nightmares as a number of the characters attest. When the devil returns to confront Sharky, Sharky seems to have trouble remembering the incident of twenty-five years ago. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t see him in your dreams?” the devil asks him. The event is living in Sharky’s subconscious, emerging in the form of terrible nightmares. In his waking consciousness, Sharky is able to keep the memory at bay by “medicating” or “numbing” with large amounts of alcohol.
When the play opens, Sharky has not been drinking for two days – a feat for him. It seems that this is when the event is ready to emerge from its sublimated region. And it is then that the devil arrives to collect on the card game. Sharky is ready to confront his own conscience.
And this is what has been so terrific about discussing the play with our audiences. The story is receivable on both a literal and abstract level. Does the devil really arrive and demand his card game? Or is that an imaging of what is happening on Sharky’s interior? Does God really step in with a miracle? Or is the miracle that Sharky perceives the love of his brother and a friend – as well as the mysterious woman who lives down country who sent him the gift of music on Christmas Eve?
February 10th, 2009 at 12:18 pm
I agree with the interpretation that the devil has come for Sharky because Sharky is trying to make changes in his life- but I like to think it’s for a darker reason. If Sharky had kept on living his life the way he had been- never confronting his guilt, and letting his unease constantly lead to excess drinking, cruelty to his family and neighbors, and otherwise generally screwing up his life, the devil would never *need* to come claim him; Sharky could find hell just fine on his own. The Devil shows up because Sharky is now struggling to atone and repent, and the Devil wants to use the deal he struck to force Sharky into hell anyway, before he has a chance to earn back grace. So when the ‘miracle’ occurs, it is a genuine miracle, that happens in the way true miracles always happen in the present day- through ordinary men and ordinary occurrences that can add up to a stunning coincidence. Anyhow, that’s how the lapsed Catholic in me likes to interpret the play’s events.
February 11th, 2009 at 9:49 am
Edward,
I like your interpretation very much. Our director and scenic designer hint at what you suggest in the second act. As Mr. Lockhart describes hell as a cement box at the bottom of the sea, the cyclorama is lit to reveal a seascape and we become aware that the room Sharky is in resembles a cement box. The suggestion being that, to some degree, Sharky is already in hell. A “hell on earth” characterized by estrangement, isolation, and self-loathing. It is this state that Sharky is trying to pull himself out of at the beginning of the play, to “earn back grace” as you say.
Thanks for posting.
February 14th, 2009 at 1:55 am
At the end of The Seafarer tonight, I got a shock to the heart that caused me to respond with an unconscious yet audible moan of deep recognition and appreciation. This was not when the cards were revealed to be aces instead of fours. It was when I heard John Martyn’s voice close the play with his poignant song. He died 15 days ago, January 29th, at the age of 60 in Thomastown, Kilkenny, Ireland where he had lived his last years. I had only learned of his death this week, and he’s been on my mind and in my heart, but I hadn’t been able to play his music yet.
His work was the soundtrack during an important and difficult passage in my life. A brilliant singer/songwriter, he battled alcoholism himself. To have his voice and words complete McPherson’s play added a profound layer to the “Sweet Little Mystery” that this work evokes about the human capacity for regeneration in the face of seemingly abject hopelessness.