Word: ethers
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...apparent thinness and elusiveness of the character are reasonable enough in the context of the play. As the curtain rises. Mr. Arcularis lies on the operating table in a surgical amphitheater, surrounded by doctors and nurses and watched by unseen medical students. Then Mr. Arcularis drifts into his ether dream, a strange, cold, ocean voyage which makes up the heart of the play. Finally in the growing chill and the gradual slowing of the ships engines the scene returns to the operating room and the death of Mr. Arcularis...
...they drive the vessel over the waves-and it is suddenly clear that this throb is really the heavy pounding of Mr. Arcularis' heart as it struggles under the surgeon's knife. For the operation is still going on, and the "cruise" is only Mr. Arcularis' ether dream. His "fellow passengers" are really the surgeon and his assistants, with two notable exceptions: Mr. Arcularis' mother and her lover, who have been dead for nearly half a century. In this dreamworld of his own anesthetized devising, Mr. Arcularis falls in love with a pretty shipmate...
Sweet Smell of Success. In Olympia, Wash., wrung out after an all-night vigil at a maternity hospital, proud father John Arends bent to kiss his wife as she was wheeled from the delivery room, caught a lingering whiff of ether, passed out cold on the concrete floor, was rushed to emergency for eight stitches in his face, repairs to two broken teeth...
...world in which lifetimes are devoted to the study of an ear or a nose, has in one way been a hindrance to its penetration in society. The ramifications of orgonomy into all branches of science, stemming from the single basic discovery of orgone energy, the erstwhile hypothetical ether which science, for good reason, has never been able to abandon, stagger the average and academic imagination. People cannot readily grasp a science whose track leads from the understanding of neurosis to "Cosmic Orgone Engineering." They become suspicious, get scared off by the magnitude of what confronts them...
...first director, the late Irving Reis, was a onetime control-room engineer, who sweated over electrical filters, oscillators and echo chambers to produce the sound of fog, the footsteps of gods, the dissonance of bells driving someone mad, the witches in Macbeth, the feel of going under ether. A sound made listeners see doors open and close. When someone in the play was stabbed, listeners were made to feel it as a sound-effects man hovered over a mike and knifed a watermelon...