Two men, The One and The Other, are all alone on an empty stage. We assume they are on a small boat. They possess no usual names, do not share their history, and do not discuss their past. We see them eat and drink and talk, or at least attempt to talk, and we soon realize they are deeply rooted to each other. The One, who is an expert sailor, wants to push out to sea just as an ominous storm emerges; The Other, who is less experienced at sea but remains on the boat against his suspicions, implores The One to remain ashore. Clearly, The One's suicide is imminent, but we are bereft of a reason or the outcome for The Other. We are also uncertain about the characters' relationship to one another because their use of language is so limited and their attempt at communication so futile. We may even wonder whether these two men are actually one person or many.
I Am the Wind, an hourlong play by Jon Fosse, has been staged throughout Europe and in New York to mixed reviews. Regardless of how viewers or readers feel about this story, they will experience the power of silence and the senselessness of language. Fosse concedes in his 2023 Nobel Prize lecture, aptly titled "A Silent Language," that suicide is pervasive in his work, but he also concludes that writing can save lives. This play, more like a meditation, may well be the author's attempt to understand how we seek one another, relate to each other, and, in spite of ourselves, become one another.
