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"Conor McPherson, who [turned] 35 in August, is one of the genuine treasures of the English-language theatre. It is absolutely intoxicating to ponder what he will give us in the future."-Irish Echo

"The unique and extraordinary aspect of McPherson's writing is the way in which his characters reveal themselves in tiny details which almost imperceptibly build up an extensive picture of the past, present and future, not just of themselves but of Ireland."-The Sunday Mail (London)

Conor McPherson returns to his native Dublin for the setting of his new play, which he will direct in a much-anticipated production at London's National Theatre in fall 2006. It is Christmas Eve, and James "Sharky" Harkin, erstwhile fisherman/van driver/chauffeur, gathers with friends at the dingy flat he shares with his blind brother to drink booze and play cards. As Christmas Eve becomes Christmas Day, the familiar-looking stranger Mr. Lockhart reminds Sharky of the bargain he made when they last met in prison-and Sharky suddenly finds himself playing a game with the stakes set at his soul. With this magnificently atmospheric new play, McPherson is once again set to entrance his audience, this time with a new take on the Faustian theme.

Conor McPherson was born in Dublin, where he still lives. His plays include This Lime Tree Bower, St. Nicholas, The Weir, Port Authority, Dublin Carol, and Shining City, which premiered on Broadway in spring 2006. One of Ireland's leading playwrights, his work has been produced throughout the United Kingdom and the United States.

Average Customer Rating:

A fun read of a hot play	Customer Rating:
I bought this because the Irish brogues were sometimes a little hard to understand on-stage, plus I wanted to relive that delicious second-act card game again (the only way to do that with a play is to read the script). It's great seeing how the actors brought scenes and words to life. I've already loaned this book to others who saw the play before it closed on Broadway this month.

Beautiful Ensemble Piece

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The living rooms in "The Homecoming" by Harold Pinter, "The Lieutenant of Inishmore" by Martin McDonagh, and in this play, "The Seafarer" by Conor McPherson are as scroungy, grotty, and disreputable as the males who inhabit these dumpy premises. The house is north of Dublin. Some plays can be read and enjoyed as a partial substitute for seeing a live performance, but after reading this one, I realize it is essential to see a live presentation to get the full import of this play. It is an actor's dream for the current five man ensemble on Broadway because the stage business is as powerful as the lines. There is a Faustian pact element to the story. The central focus is on Sharky, a loser, who lives with his blind brother. Two visitors and a mysterious fifth man, Mr. Lockhart, gather together Christmas Eve day and night and get extremely drunk. They play cards, money is lost, and the story opens up to the audience. Some of this is familiar territory, and the plot is not too complicated. Lockhart probably has the best lines, but the other characters would be a joy to watch. There is great comedy here along with the more serious stuff. The characters are beautifully crafted, and they are a decidedly odd bunch. Each one a piece of work in his own peculiar way. As in most plays, secrets from the past are unearthed and become grist for the dramatist's mill. When Lockhart and Sharky are alone, Lockhart reminds him of a card game they had in the past. For these two and the audience the game of cards becomes a transforming experience. The play is well worth a read but try to see it on stage if at all possible. It would make a great movie or television play, but, I think, the audience would be limited. Nine Lives Too Many The Daemon in Our Dreams The Rice Queen Spy Clawed Back from the Dead

Beat the Devil

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Sharky lives with his older brother Richard and a crony named Ivan in a coastal village north of Dublin. Richard and Ivan are constantly drunk; Sharky is uneasily sober. On Christmas Eve, they are visited by beer-swilling Nicky and his guest, Mr. Lockhart. Mr. Lockhart is the Devil. We know he is the Devil because he tells us so. ("I'm the son of the morning. I'm the snake in the garden."). Twenty-five years ago he helped Sharky escape a manslaughter charge, and he has now come to collect his payment: Sharky's soul. Sharky can avoid damnation only by beating Mr. Lockhart in a poker game. If you thought that Ingmar Bergman's conceit of a man playing chess with Death was self-conscious, portentous and middlebrow (and you were right), you may not be much more receptive to a man playing poker with Satan. This marriage of Faust and Friel doesn't work, not least because the author is more interested in the crapulous antics of Richard, Nicky and Ivan than in the state of Sharky's soul. Sharky's character and history are so sketchy that one wonders why the Devil should covet such a nebulous figure, or why we in the audience should care about his fate. As for the supposedly hilarious drunkards, they become tiresome after three minutes.