The Year of Magical Thinking

Last night I went to the National Theatre to see Vanessa Redgrave in Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. I have been waiting to see this since it premiered on Broadway, having read the book. I'm thrilled to say the play isn't simply a shorter version of the book; it's a perfect companion piece to it, but completely stands alone as well. It was moving, of course; how could it not be, being written by such an exceptional author? I found Vanessa Redgrave's performance completely mesmerising. She started with a quiet and calm rendition of the story but by the end the emotion was overwhelming, and she showed this with her physical movements about the stage.

I saw lots of people crying when it was over. I wasn't moved to tears; possibly because I had read the book and knew what happened since the book was published. I was, however, moved by the mix of medical facts about Joan Didion's husband's and daughter's fatal conditions, but also by the telling of stories about when their daughter was small. The subjects touched upon in the play made me think, be grateful for my loved ones, and pause to think about what's worth the struggle and what isn't.