Finn's Take· TL;DRDecades before Tennessee Williams became synonymous with sultry Southern drama and psychological complexity, the future playwright was a University of Iowa student named Tom Williams, crafting ghostly tales for radio audiences. Williams' play appears this week in The Strand Magazine, which has previously published little-known works by Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner and John Steinbeck among others. This gothic sketch, titled "The Strangers," offers a fascinating glimpse into the creative origins of one of America's most celebrated dramatists.
The play incorporates all the theatrical elements of early radio horror: a storm, howling wind, shadows, a house perched over the sea, flickering candles, mysterious footsteps on the stairs, spectral beings . Yet beneath the conventional trappings lies something more intriguing. The work already contains "early hints of the themes and devices Williams would return to in his most famous later works: isolation, fear, the shades of gray between imagination and reality, and a house haunted by memory and the private terrors of those who inhabit it."
The play's central concept reveals Williams' early fascination with perception and reality. "We members of the human species are equipped with only five senses. Or six at the very most," Mr. Brighton declares early on. "The Strangers are creatures that might be perceptible to us if we had seven or eight or maybe nine senses. But as it is, they exist just outside our little sphere of contact with reality and so … what we know of them is very, very slight."
While writing "The Strangers," he was already haunted by the mental health struggles of his sister, Rose, who would later inspire the fragile Laura Wingfield of "The Glass Menagerie." This personal connection adds depth to what might otherwise be dismissed as a student exercise. Williams would long explore the idea of madness, and how we respond to people who seem to see things "no one else can see."
According to Williams scholar John Bak, "The Strangers" was among a handful of radio dramas the young playwright worked on while in Iowa, where he and his classmates were required to write and produce plays. Williams first thought of radio plays as an "exercise," but he would eventually take them more seriously. The timing was perfect for such experimentation. Horror stories were popular on radio in the late 1930s , providing both commercial appeal and artistic opportunity.
Bak believes Williams was influenced by commercial considerations and by more personal forces. This dual motivation—practical craft-building combined with deeply personal exploration—would become a hallmark of Williams' mature work. The supernatural elements of "The Strangers" may seem distant from "A Streetcar Named Desire," but the psychological territory remains remarkably consistent.
The discovery of "The Strangers" comes at a time when audio-first entertainment has experienced a remarkable renaissance. What began as radio's golden age has found new life in the digital era, suggesting that Williams' early instincts about the power of voice-only storytelling were prescient. The intimacy of audio drama, its ability to conjure entire worlds through sound and suggestion alone, remains as compelling today as it was in 1938.
This forgotten work reminds us that even literary giants begin somewhere, often in forms we might not expect. Williams' journey from student radio plays to Broadway masterpieces illustrates how experimentation and personal truth can transform conventional genres into something transcendent.