The Hole, is one of those plays about which people disagree, disagree even as to what it is about. Perhaps Simpson intends to supplement the venerable Bede, Trevelyan, Thornton Wilder, and The Times, as historian of Church, England, mankind, and the times. Early in the play (and in a manner reminiscent of some of Our Town’s devices) he calls audiences attention to the large meaning he wants his play to have (and the correspondingly high standards by which it must be judged) and also to its relevance to today: “This is a small queue which has been forming for weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, millennia, aeons, days and indeed for some hours now…”

The hole, like The Hole, is many things. The characters see in it trinitarian aquaria, golf-players, junction boxes; and one, The Visionary, sees people waiting for “the solemn unveiling of the great window in the south transept whose quote or rather misquote many-coloured glass will God willing in all probability stain the white radiance of eternity unquote to the everlasting glory of God.”

The hole is the mind of man, the history of humbuggery, and, most particularly, ideas of God.

This play was entered into the Bishops Stortford Drama Festival, held at the Rhodes Center