This is not as hidden a "space" as the hidden dumbwaiter or perhaps the lavatory but I do believe it is important to the function of this story all the same. We read that an envelope has been slidden from under the RIGHT door, and that envelope contains matches. There is no note that accompanies the envelope, there is no trace of a person that left the envelope. There is only the envelope with the matches. This envelope is creepy because we are in the dark about who gave it to Gus and Ben -- and why did they give it to them? Through this whole play, there are dark, strange forces operating outside of Gus and Ben's view. There are assumedly people or beings operating the dumbwaiter and sliding envelopes yet we only ever see Gus and Ben. I also think it's incredibly important to note that the envelope is retrieved by GUS from the RIGHT door. Because at the end of the play, Gus enters in from the right door (the first time he's done this). So to me, the matches feel like a premonition of what's to come -- of Gus's eventual demise at the hands of his partner.

I agree with what has already been said -- the Bishop seeks to know how is reflected (literally) to the world. He is clearly unstable or unsure in his own thoughts regarding who he is and how he is perceived. I also feel like the line "I want to be by myself" can be interpreted as a double entendre, as that can mean he wants to be physically alone without Irma, and also that he wants to be "seen" by the mirror and God in a state of solitude. It is also interesting to note that this play begins with a Bishop, who is usually the last person you would expect to find in a brothel. That in itself is a contradiction and indication of how lost this Bishop may be.

There's something super paradoxical and indicative of the absurdist genre that comes from calling the play Rhinoceros, including Rhinoceroses in the stage directions, etc but then only using heads to portray them here. When I think of a rhinoceros, a huge part of what I consider is its massive, lumbering frame. They have huge, heavy paw-like feet, they have many wrinkles and crinkles of grey skin. To take all of this away and reduce it to just the rhino's head, is to adjust the definition of "rhino" in the context of this play. The rhino has less dignity in this context; it's more of an object and less of a creature.

I was trying to highlight Joan's line ("Why was Uncle hitting them?") but couldn't select that piece of text.

During my reading and re-reading of this play, this line continued to hit me hardest. There is something very blunt about the way Joan phrases her question; there is no lead-up or sign that she will ask this question. Harper's response is also very blunt. Harper doesn't mince words, show emotion, or seem to think it's a problem that her husband beat children with a stick. Something about this interaction really stuck with me -- it's scary because it's so abrupt. This abrupt blunt-ness then reminded me of what Fuch's says towards the bottom of page 6 of her essay: "What is the tone of this planet? Delicate or course?"

The tone of "Far Away" is incredibly course. There is nothing sweet or delicate about Joan's first conversation with her Aunt. This conversation absolutely informs us of the severity of this world, of how dark it is and how it lacks so much emotion. Churchill did a great job of terrifying me with very simple dialogue -- dialogue that would normally be viewed as too harsh or non-sensible. And Fuch's word "course" perfectly describes how I thought of this moment -- and of the entire play.