And by Alan Haehnel is a roughly thirty-minute play that made my jaw drop. The main character, Aaron, starts out on the stage with comparing “the heartbeat of the world” to the sounds “and-and, and-and, and-and.” Actors begin coming in, saying the same thing to the beat. He calls it “the great connector.”

That is enough to compel you to stay interested, but once the plot gets started, it’s amazing. The other actors begin listing their problems, varying from fathers dying of cancer to no one noticing her haircut.

The continuous use of “and-and” in the first section of the play is an amazing auditory effect, especially when they crescendo. Aaron even compares using and to then, but, and because, but he claims that things are happening at the same time. This is the point of the whole play: everything is happening simultaneously. This happens, and this happens, not then, but, or because. He almost tells his story, but changes his mind, and then we get deeper into the other characters’ stories. In between, however, he always says “and” before the next person speaks.

At the end of this, he begins his own story again that happened three nights ago. He changes his mind again, and we are able to dig even deeper into the other stories. It becomes obvious that he is simply dodging the question of what he was doing while all the other things were happening. He even becomes seemingly more frantic as the play goes on, knowing that he is eventually going to have to tell his story.

The use of the auditory sense is only strengthened as the play goes on, as he makes them talk all at once to show how it really is instead of one-by-one like they were all telling the stories. However, it was the only way to make them decipherable. In reality, it is “pandemonium.” He keeps emphasizing how simultaneous everything is: someone having a hangnail, someone’s brother going off to war, someone worried that candy bars are getting smaller, and everything in between.

Once Aaron gets ready to tell his story again, he goes backstage and pulls out his mother, father, a bed with two bodies under the covers, his little sister, and himself (as he was playing video games three nights ago) for visuals! It’s a bit shocking, them all being on separate rolling platforms, but it’s so intriguing. We go through all of the character’s stories again, him still saying “and” in between, and he describes what everyone was doing in his house. What is the most interesting is his sister, Adrian: she was under the covers with someone else.

We then go back to the character’s stories again, which at this point, is getting a little tiring, even with the change of all the stories mixing together in a way that didn’t make sense. Aaron’s slightly ridiculing comments are funny, however. He becomes even more frantic, talking about how smart he is, and he could not have known. At this point, you have a pretty good idea of what is happening under Adrian’s covers.

He then categorizes everyone’s problems with a number, which didn’t seem as important to the play. He ranks and groups them, until his sister comes onto the stage. She keeps asking him what’s wrong, as she still has not told her mother and father what has happened. He keeps apologizing and asking how he could not have known. His sister is obviously strong, remarking that she isn’t as fragile as he thinks. Finally, it is said out loud that she was raped by someone that she thought loved her. This play was just Aaron’s way of processing the fact that he was playing video games, and everyone else in the house was doing something else while she was being raped.

This unique point of view on rape, a little brother the room over, is very interesting. Their moment together was raw, tender, and sweet, as were the moments when he kept trying to talk about his story and couldn’t. This play was a wonderful and unique situation that was a delightful read, even if it did get a little bit repetitive at parts. It was amazing getting to see someone work through something that serious on stage that didn’t even happen to him, but his sister. Seeing his sister at the end was equally amazing. Overall, I recommend watching or reading this play.

Author: Zoe Conner

I'm Zoe Conner. I'm writing on a computer named Rambo, which you should only say with a rolled r. I write because I don't want to be just another cog in the machine. I live. I write. That's all you need to know.