The Barbarity of Distance

“TEACHER: And now I want to tell you something, Alfred Ill,

something fundamental. They will kill you” (84).



Horror is defined as an extreme feeling of disbelief,

apprehension or revulsion, or anything that may elicit such

sentiments. The irony—or distance—that permeates the

relationships in Friedrich Dürrenmatt’s The Visit is horrific, as there

is this perpetual void between what characters intend, and what

they express. Nobody sincerely cares for each other, the most

distressing truth being that this is all meticulously veiled under

smiles and deceitful assertions.


 The third act opens with Claire in her wedding gown,

contemplating her pending divorce. When approached by the

doctor and teacher to discuss Ill, she detachedly enquires, “Oh,

has he died?” (70). In this play, emotion and intent obey no

norms, disconcertingly reminiscent of the closeted chaos of Gary

Ross’s Pleasantville. The town refuses blood on its hands, and yet

continues to splurge on lavish commodities, running up a debt on

the looming death of their “most beloved citizen”.


The Visit is a play on horror, isolating the reader through

distance established in a series of unusual, unanticipated events.

It induces a forced helplessness plagued by with knowledge of