There are no hard distinctions between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either… - Harold Pinter

It's a strange moment, the moment of creating characters who up to that moment have had no existence. What follows is fitful, uncertain, even hallucinatory, although sometimes it can be an unstoppable avalanche. The author's position is an odd one. In a sense he is not welcomed by his characters. They resist him, they are not easy to live with.

But the real truth is that there never is any such thing as one truth to be found in dramatic art. There are many. These truths challenge each other, recoil from each other, reflect each other, ignore each other, tease each other, are blind to each other. Sometimes you feel you have the truth of a moment in your hand, then it slips through your fingers and is lost.

EMMA:
You know what I found out ... last night? He's betrayed me for years. He's had... other women for years.

JERRY
No? Good Lord.
(Pause)
But we betrayed him for years.

EMMA
And he betrayed me for years.

JERRY
Well I never knew that.

EMMA
Nor did I.