Ambiguity is the drop shadow of literature.
As the horse galloped through the forest with a rider on his back, he aimed for all the low branches. Thus, he participated in a rudimentary form of evolution in which trees eventually stopped growing low branches and decided the whole “forest” idea wasn’t such a good one if wild animals were going to be running through them the entire time.
People who think Equus is an easy play to understand don’t understand that (a) the main character Dysart doesn’t say anything substantial for most of the play; (b) the important things we learn about Dysart are by proxy through Alan whom I call the Beacon of Crazy Ambiguity; (c) a lot of meaning is conveyed (and I use that word loosely) through avant-garde stage directions and unreliable dream sequences slash flashbacks that don’t go anywhere and don’t mean anything; (d) the play at once interweaves a depressed man going through mid-life crisis and a equine-Freudian sexual exploration; and (e) Peter Schaffer is guano insane.