Are we our name? Are we our dead? Can one move between flesh and memory? Can the ego – that can suffer from either too much or from no self – tell a story?
A writer in a feverish stillness moves (like another trout) against the flow of history, nostalgia, introspection and plot.
Jewish memory and confession, singing and delirium, mourning and aphrodisiac anxiety.
The play is based on Aegypius Monachus (2001, revised reissue: 2013).