Edith Wharton is so freaking depressing, but the show was good anyway, great adaptation, casting/performances (especially Annette Toutonghi's vocal and physical transformation as Evelina Bunner from Act 1 to Act 2), etc. There is a reason I tend to avoid reading her, takes me a while to shake it off, the unfulfillment and lingering sacrifice for nothing, though I will admit that the second act brings a certain satisfaction of throwing off that need to always be a martyr, in Ann Eliza Bunner's eyes being opened to the truth that it was no better to have been a martyr than to have taken what she wanted. No good came out of the former. There was no purpose for it.
The show was "The Bunner Sisters" at the Theatre Off Jackson, directed and adapted by Julie Beckman. Ran into a friend and he drove me home, so what would take an hour was instead less than ten minutes in a car. Grateful.
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