Equus explores a moral ambiguity, focusing on the conflict between two perspectives of righteousness. The freedom of an individual to act as they desire must be balanced against society's obligation to limit this freedom when one's actions cause harm to others. This is clearly illustrated in Alan’s unsettling crime; society's main objective is to either imprison Alan or address his psychological issues to prevent future harm. Dysart realizes he cannot allow Alan to act purely on his impulses, yet he hesitates to implement a treatment that might diminish or eliminate the boy's creativity and enthusiasm. The doctor is also concerned that the drive behind Alan’s actions may be more instinctual than just a psychological problem. He fears that suppressing these impulses could rob Alan of his identity. However, society's larger concerns take priority; if Alan's actions remain unchecked, they could ultimately hinder the freedom and happiness of others.

Religion plays a pivotal role in Equus and has consistently been an important element in Shaffer's work. Shaffer is fascinated by humanity's need to believe in a higher power and to discover a suitable form of worship. In this play, the primary theological conflict is between Christianity and paganism, the latter symbolized by a horse-god. Alan's mother raised him in the Christian faith, but the brutal narratives of Christ’s crucifixion unsettled him. Consequently, he creates his own religion, transforming Christian doctrines and practices into the veneration of the god Equus, a horse figure he perceives as more comforting than the suffering Jesus.

Dr. Dysart, who has a passion for classical culture, draws connections between Alan’s beliefs and the ancient Greek pagan society, which is often recognized as a significant influence on Western civilization. Greek culture embraced a pantheon of gods believed to govern various life aspects and developed a framework of arts and governance frequently considered a model for modern society. Dysart intellectually grasps, and begins to genuinely feel, the notion that, as he puts it, "life is only comprehensible through a thousand local gods."

Horse imagery is essential to Alan's development. The play is rich with horse symbols, appropriate for a figure with deep historical and cultural connections. Dora Strang recalls how a young Alan was fascinated by a historical fact about the conquest of the Americas: when Christian cavalry arrived, indigenous people often perceived the horse and rider as a single divine being, a god-like four-legged creature. This story significantly influences Alan's personal mythology of Equus. As he matures and embarks on his midnight rides, this mythos takes on sexual dimensions. This is vividly illustrated in the final scene of Act One, where Alan, in a state of near sexual and religious ecstasy, rides the horse, exclaiming, "Bear me away! Make us One Person!"

Alan's interactions with horse imagery and actual horses further shape his development. These include the storybook his mother read to him repeatedly, the unusual photograph of a horse that replaced the crucifixion portrait, and the traumatic moment when his father pulled him from a horse after an exhilarating beach ride. The cultural associations of horses—their speed, power, and noble presence—make it plausible to a modern audience that a boy might perceive divinity in the equine image.

Equus utilizes the technique of reminiscence, which involves reenacting past events, to shape its narrative. The theme of memory, particularly suppressed memories that need to be revealed, plays a crucial role in the play. In line with a traditional Freudian approach, Alan has hidden certain memories in his subconscious, causing nightmares and other psychological issues. Dr. Dysart employs methods such as hypnosis and a...

Similar to the theme of religion, the play delves into the idea of sanity versus insanity on various levels. Dysart encounters a young boy who is mentally troubled, has committed a violent act considered insane by societal standards, and whose distress could potentially be eased through therapy. The play's narrative unfolds as Dysart gradually reveals Alan's repressed memories, suggesting that he might be able to alleviate Alan's torment. However, as Dysart works with Alan, he begins to question the definitions of sanity and insanity, viewing them as social constructs that appear fixed but actually fluctuate significantly over time and between cultures. Dysart is concerned that by making Alan 'sane' in a way that society approves, he might inadvertently take away Alan's intense passion for life—a passion that Dysart secretly longs for himself.

Sex and religion are arguably the most significant and intertwined themes in the play. Both are pivotal in shaping Alan's childhood, as he blends what society deems "normal" sexual and religious practices into his own pagan, horse-focused beliefs. The play hints at sexual elements in many of Alan's early experiences. Frank Strang's comments, such as Christianity being "just bad sex" and his characterization of a graphic depiction of Christ’s crucifixion as "kinky," suggest a connection between sexual desire and religious fervor that Frank may have passed on to Alan during his formative years. Alan's ride with the Horseman is also laden with sexual implications, a sensation he attempts to recreate during his nude, midnight rides with Equus. In essence, Alan has transformed a solitary act into a sacred ritual. At the play's peak, Alan is confused when he feels sexually drawn to Jill Mason, which leads to intense guilt over his perceived "betrayal" in front of Equus and his inability to be intimate with Jill. Consequently, sex is a major factor in Alan’s development and is central to the violent act that propels the play's dramatic narrative.

In Peter Shaffer's play Equus, the character Dysart is entangled in a profound internal conflict. On one hand, as a psychiatrist, he aims to restore Alan to a state of normalcy. On the other, he grapples with the unsettling notion that achieving such normalcy equates to a loss of spiritual vitality, originality, and individual unpredictability. This dichotomy between professional responsibility and personal belief is at the heart of the narrative.

Shaffer delves into the complexities of human existence and the role of spiritual belief in shaping it. Dysart's journey becomes even more intricate as he probes into the reasons behind Alan's violent act of blinding horses. In doing so, he uncovers an unexpected envy for Alan's intense passion and fervent spirituality—traits that Dysart himself finds lacking in his own life.

The tension between embracing a spirited, albeit chaotic, faith and conforming to societal norms of normalcy is palpable. Dysart's envy reveals a deeper yearning for something beyond the mundane predictability of everyday life, highlighting Shaffer's exploration of whether a life devoid of spiritual belief is indeed a life fully lived. This exploration of human nature and the pursuit of meaning through spiritual belief versus societal expectations forms the crux of the narrative in Equus.

In the opening of the play, Dysart confides in the audience his struggle with a profound sense of dissatisfaction and doubt. He expresses a feeling of being "reined up in old language and old assumptions," yearning to leap onto a "new track of being" that he only vaguely perceives. This sentiment reflects his deep-seated professional doubts, which he describes as a "professional menopause," indicative of a crisis of faith in the value of his work. He is trapped in a life devoid of passion and spiritual fulfillment, living a monotonous existence alongside a wife with whom he shares nothing more than convenience and a home. Their childless marriage, lacking depth and connection, mirrors his internal discontent.

Dysart's obsession with ancient Greece—its art, religion, and mythology—serves as both a source of fascination and a point of contention with his wife, who finds his interest "repulsive." He longs for someone with whom he can share this passion, someone "instinctive, absolutely unbrisk," who would appreciate the profound beauty of "shrines and sacred streams," and grasp his belief that "life is only comprehensible through a thousand local Gods." This longing is not limited to the ancient world; he desires a recognition of "living Geniuses of Place and Person" in both ancient Greece and modern England. Yet, for all his eloquence about gods and spirituality, Dysart admits to being "worshipless," much like his wife, revealing the irony of his own unfulfilled yearning for meaning and connection.

In the intricate tapestry of Equus, Dysart, a psychiatrist, finds himself entangled in the dualities of worship and destruction. He serves the "murderous God of Health," a deity emblematic of societal normality, tasked with excising from children those facets of their individuality deemed undesirable. Yet, this role as a "priest" of societal norms leaves him in a state of existential turmoil. The young patient Alan introduces Dysart to a spiritual fervor and a deity of his own making—Equus. This equine god, along with Alan’s fervent devotion, challenges Dysart’s complacency about his role in molding young minds. Equus seems to demand, "Account for me. . . . First account for Me!" This divine demand exposes Dysart to an unsettling self-reflection on his spiritual emptiness, likening himself to Barabbas in the human spirit’s domain.

Dysart is keenly aware of the irony in his professional pursuits. He laments that there is "nothing worse one can do to anybody than take away their worship," yet his work systematically does just that. The hypocrisy inherent in his life becomes glaringly apparent. Alan, on the other hand, is a wellspring of raw passion, experiencing emotions that Dysart admits he has never felt. Near the play’s conclusion, Dysart confesses, "Alan has known a passion more ferocious than I have felt in any second of my life," acknowledging, "And let me tell you something: I envy it." This admission reveals a profound longing for the intensity that Alan possesses, an intensity Dysart's life sorely lacks.

The symbolic parallels between Alan’s actions toward the horses and the physical suffering of Christ form a provocative motif in Equus. However, the more unnerving comparison lies between Dysart and Alan themselves. Dysart’s self-description—standing "in the dark with a pick in my hand, striking at heads!"—illustrates his internal conflict and the destructive nature of his work. The play forces both characters and audience to confront the uncomfortable truths about the sacrifices made in the name of societal conformity and the personal cost of suppressed passion and individuality.