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KRistina calm is dead. He’s probably on his way to one of all these limbs he’s portrayed through his pieces now. These platforms and beaches, Eskil Johansson’s moving agency and all of Vällingby, places he described as stops on the road to eternity. Perhaps she stands and stomps out of Stagnelius’ copper door, the one she knocked on with her poems. Or you are looking for Anna-Maria Lenngren, to finally speak. Stagnelius and Lenngren are two fellow poets who have meant a lot. Or now Kristina Lugn is finally safe with Death, who when she was little, had to be the wife of God, married to him. This is possibly the reason why he described Death as having tender maternal feelings.
She wrote often about death, as if it were an eternal home, and the solution to the anxiety that caused Kristina Lugn to move constantly and repeatedly between different apartments. The theater finally became her living room. First in Dramaten, under Lars Löfgren as a friendly mentor, then in Teater Brunnsgatan Fyra, who took over after Allan Edwall and worked for thirteen years, 1997–2010. A period in which many of its 27 pieces appeared. Today unjustly forgotten texts that really need to be aired. Among them is “Look at a Moose” which is about Stickan Ogebratt who, you suppose, is waiting for the train to Hades. A text about life filled with a horrible discharge.
