I went to see this dramatised in Dublin and I was never as moved in my entire life. Barry’s power of language is never more apparent than in this work where he pierces the soul of the reader/spectator on every page/in every scene. At its most fundamental level, it is about redemption and whether it is always possible. The sad conclusion we are led to is that the greater the scale of horror perpetrated, the more scope there is for forgiveness and acceptance. On a micro-level, it seems our ability to forgive ourselves for personal acts of violence and hate is limited, if not impossible. Read this and weep. But you will be weeping for yourself, ultimately, and your own powerlessness.