ABSTRACT
In 1974, during a visit to London, a friend called to suggest attending a performance of Shakespeare's Pericles. The Evening Standard reviewer had called the production "quite the most decadent, obscene production I have ever seen-and brilliant." A French critic had written: "Shakespeare fonctionne au LSD" (AS-Safa), and other reviewers had invoked Fellini's name. Knowing nothing of the presenting group, and never having seen a production of Pericles, I agreed to attend.
