If you've ever been a pie-eyed young poetry geek (like me), you've probably read-- if not fallen in love with-- Frederico Garcia Lorca, the fey modernist Spaniard who wrote about love and gypsies and the moon. Well, he apparently also wrote the occasional awful play.
No, Lorca defenders, I'm not talking about The House of Bernarda Alba, I'm talking about his first attempt, The Butterfly's Evil Spell. A symbolist work, the play is about a wounded butterfly (as far as I can tell, a literal butterfly) and a cockroach whose love for her goes unrequited. Yeah. It was cancelled after four performances; later in his life Garcia Lorca would claim that Mariana Pineda, which debuted seven years later, was his first play. Kinda makes me feel better about the crap that I try to write.