I always thought that if I'd just discovered, courtesy a ghost, that a) my
father had been murdered and b) my father's murderer was now sleeping with
my mother I might become c) a little bit put out.
The play's soaked in sexuality, and sexual guilt, but not I think as a
result of Viennese whirls or other such flings.
Come to consider it, I don't really think the Sophocles is about a Grand
Universal Theory of Jewish Mamas either.
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