In the Burning Darkness
at the BT ‘til Saturday

We’re all familiar with Plato’s famous cave simile, which likens the process of human enlightenment to a person’s escape from a darkened cave into the sunlit world. However, we’re probably not so familiar with Antonio Buero-Vallejo’s In the Burning Darkness, which adds a twist to this conventional theme. Set in a school for the blind, the new pupil Ignacio (Simon Breden) — seeks not to lead his colleagues directly from ignorance to understanding, but challenges them to bemoan their own limitations first.
Resistance soon grows among those who want to maintain the school’s harmony. A fellow student, Carlos (Rob Crumpton), confronts Ignacio by asking why he offers suffering without vision. Amid dissolving friendships and relationships among the students, Carlos challenges the worth of trading the security of ignorant bliss for the uncertainity of intellectual misery. Of course, these aren’t new themes. Hamlet’s soliloquy of self-doubt, Don Quixote’s crusade against windmills, and, at the climax, the Malabar Caves incident in A Passage to India all cover similar subject matter. Nonetheless, this play diverges slightly by suggesting that a frank acknowledgement of limitations is the necessary precursor for survival in society.
In the Burning Darkness (1946) was one of Buero-Vallejo’s first plays, which explains its two main, if slight, weaknesses: it’s a bit too long, and it’s a bit too preachy. Given these limits, the efforts of the student cast and crew to retain our attention are even more remarkable. Deserving of particular commendation are Breden, Crumpton, Ed Scott (as Miguel, the class clown), and Nina Boeger (as Dona Pepita, the headmaster’s wife).
If you’re in the mood for philosophical rumination, In the Burning Darkness is a worthy candidate. And if, as Bertrand Russell suggested, Western philosophy consists of ‘footnotes to Plato,’ Buero-Vallejo ought to be a prominent citation.

Robin Rix