Mouawad has a major following in French theatre circles. Le Monde has saluted him as one of the world’s most talented French-language playwrights. In 2005, he received the prestigious Molière award for francophone playwright of the year. No Québécois had ever received this prize, but Mouawad turned it down. He explained at the time that he has always refused prizes because he believes that artists should not be made to compete with each other. He has, however, accepted membership in the Ordre national des arts et des lettres, an honour bestowed by the French ministry of culture.

Paris theatregoers can choose from more than 200 plays on any given weekend, yet Mouawad stands out, probably because of his unique way of combining Lebanon, Europe, and Quebec. “It’s obvious that this is someone who has known war in the flesh,” says Muriel Maalouf, a Lebanese-born theatre critic who works for Radio France Internationale. While Mouawad’s work is steeped in European intellectual tradition, it also exhibits an undeniable Quebec influence. Maalouf sees this most clearly in Mouawad’s stage direction. He uses props, lighting, and music to create filmlike images. He likes actors to be both “psychological” and “physical.” As a director, he tells them what they should think and do. All of that, Maalouf notes, is “very North American.”

French theatre audiences generally applaud more courteously than passionately, never clapping at intermissions, seldom granting standing ovations. But at the end of the Forêts performance I attended in Grenoble, the crowd jumped to its feet, to show its appreciation but also, I suspect, to break the play’s powerful spell more hastily. They had been tricked into suspending disbelief, but they were now about to venture out into the Alpine night, which they needed, quick.