also have a way of slowing, and even stopping, it as well. Time in Arcadia, as in real life, and
unlike in a lot of more traditional theater, is relative, it changes speed throughout the play.
Stoppard is showing us the power of objects to act as resistance to the speed built up
during dialogue that moves the perceived amount of time faster. By focusing on an object,
by observing it as it passes and is transferred across people, time, and space, the audience
moves from a run to a crawl taking on details and experiencing more of the action. Brater
continues later in the article explaining, “Each act is paced differently, as are the separate
periods evoked in the coordinated temporal realities. All action, divided as it is, nonetheless
takes place in the same {place}…In Arcadia props cross time, as the tortoise does,
enhancing the visualization” (163-164). Though the play is set in one room, there is so
much action, even some that is painstakingly slow, and that movement is never really lost.
In a way the room that is the entire set is a time machine itself, one powered by its lifeless
object’s journey across time, as well as its inhabitants interactions with each other, and
their parallels to other periods.
Time is identified as cyclical in the play, an idea championed by Valentine when, in
response to a challenge about whether or not the current world is destined to fail that is
posed by Hannah, she says, “ No, its still doomed. But if this is how it [life building upon
itself from nothing] started, perhaps its how the next one will come”(78). Stoppard uses
Valentine to speak to the circle of events, that life can be assumed to remake itself and
repeat the same process as before. The similarities between the two different times in the
play can be explained as just part of a smaller, but ultimately fundamental, principle—that
people, society, and the universe are destined to repeat the past, traveling on lines that
curve into a circle over time. And, therefore, the past is often relived, as the characters in