Librería Samer Atenea
Librería Aciertas (Toledo)
Kálamo Books
Librería Perelló (Valencia)
Librería Elías (Asturias)
Donde los libros
Librería Kolima (Madrid)
Librería Proteo (Málaga)
In this gripping ghost story an eccentric librarian discovers a weather-beaten book in a return bin - 113 years overdue. Sparked by a message left in its margins, he embarks on a magical quest that takes him around the world and 2,000 years into the past. With astonishing twists and turns, UNDERNEATH THE LINTEL draws us into an unforgettable odyssey. '... one of a handful of great plays written in the last five years ... it's an astonishingly beautiful piece of writing ...' -Steve Wiecking, Seattle Weekly 'On an inauspicious morning at a Dutch library, a librarian makes an unexpected find in the overnight return box ... a much mistreated Baedeker's guidebook 123 years overdue. Even without compound interest, this tardiness merits a tidy fine, and in UNDERNEATH THE LINTEL, playwright Glen Berger's latest, our librarian hero determines to track down the miscreant. Berger's monologue, subtitled 'The Mystery of the Abandoned Trousers,' hardly slacks. Mailing a fine to the long-lived scofflaw in question proves difficult, as the borrower listed his name only as 'A.' In an effort to run him to earth, the librarian, who has never left his native town of Hoofddorp, zips to China, Australia, Germany, and America. He eats sweets, greases palms, sees Les Miserables in three languages, and fritters away all his accumulated vacation days. He has the time of his life, or perhaps for the first time actually has a life.' -Alexis Soloski, The Village Voice 'Berger has shown a penchant for men obsessively investigating truths that blind them to more ordinary pursuits of happiness. This one-man show is no exception. It's a satisfying mix of intelligent writing and quirky humor in a package that isn't neatly wrapped up with pat answers.' -Jana J Monji, Los Angeles Times 'Glen Berger's work feels like what an entire generation of playwrights have been struggling to write.' -Bret Fetzer, The Stranger (Seattle)
