A woman, who has been cursed and exiled from her world and silent for years, engages in an extended monologue. Her delicate figure in a beam of light, her raised hands, her mesmerising voice... The more the ugly truth is trying to get out, the more the narrator looks like a saint, not a criminal.
She was chosen to serve as the Pythia in the temple but she hardly knew whom she was serving: an almighty deity who wished her to express his prophecies or pragmatic priests? Nevertheless, she was faithful to her calling. So, what was her crime then? Giving birth to a child? But who was the father: a secret lover or heavenly fiancé who couldn't forgive her earthly love? She got to know the man like nobody else, but she failed to understand God who is both nonsense and the deepest meaning that we will never be able to grasp.
Nevertheless, in this production, just like in Pär Lagerkvist's novel of the same name, God is nothing more than a metaphor, a symbol of talent that is both a blessing and a torture. Like all of us, this woman is trying to find her way without betraying herself. That's why her confession will certainly resonate with anyone who is thinking of their mission in this world.
A tough fate befell the Sibyl, but when she recalls all her life, she will say, "Gracias a la vida!"