"Bent" by Martin Sherman

The outer fence at Dachau, a concentration camp outside of Munich, Germany. (Photo by Richard Patterson)

So, when I went shopping for some used books a few weeks back, I picked up a copy of the play Bent by Martin Sherman on a whim for $2 and read it quickly that night. I was struck by the play's depiction of humanity and love in the face of the atrocities committed against those persecuted during the holocaust, and, within the context of the play, homosexuals.

Sherman's play focuses on Max, a lothario of Berlin who, through a quick series of events finds himself imprisoned at Dachau, his lover dead, left to forge a life in a place where life does not exist. Reading it is just a beautifully painful experience.

I visited Dachau when I went abroad to Europe with my German class for ten days three summers ago and was struck by the sheer enormity of the place, the blank slates of foundations where barracks once stood. Walking over the crunching gravel on a gray day that seemed as if it would never let up is something I won't forget. The final image of the play struck me as I looked back on some of the pictures I took that day, including the one above.

I suggest anyone read the play, and the movie is also worthwhile. The pink triangles are often forgotten but should not be.