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Susan’s Bookshelves: Medusa’s Ankles by AS Byatt

AS Byatt writes in colour. There’s a vibrant pre-Raphelite quality about her prose in these stories which instantly reminded me of her wonderful 1990, Booker prize-winning novel Possession which features the life and work of a Victorian poet modelled on Christina Rossetti. In ‘A Stone Woman’, for example, we read of “the first glacial tongues pouring down into the plains, white and shining above the green marshes and under the blue sky.” Byatt is, among things, an art historian and that knowledge shines through on every page. And ‘Precipice-Encurled’ is a fictional study of a specific painting.

A well-known books website describes this volume as “gothic fiction” but that’s inaptly reductive. As David Mitchell points out in his excellent introduction, you cannot pigeon-hole these eighteen stories. AS Byatt simply doesn’t do genre. The longest story in this collection, for instance – almost a novella – is ‘The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye’. It nips through fairy tale, travel writing and explores the very nature of story telling because its central character is a professional narratologist – who meets a Djinn in a hotel bathroom. So does ‘Raw Material’ which is about a teacher of creative writing who, at last discovers talent, in his group in an unlikely format. Then he visits the writer’s home and suddenly we’re in a shocking Henry Jamesian world.

‘The July Ghost’ is a story about a dead  child who haunts a garden. “There is no boy” declares his mother fiercely at one point. I once heard Byatt talking about this on the radio and of course it’s a fictional exploration of grief with an autobiographical undertow. Byatt’s own son died in a road accident when he was 11. ‘Racine and the Tablecloth’ is rooted in Byatt’s unhappy boarding school past and ‘Sugar’ clearly owes a lot to Byatt’s own parents. Daughter of QC and a Browning scholar, Byatt has written and talked quite a lot about her difficult mother – as has her sister, novelist Margaret Drabble.

I have read many of these stories before in the distant past when they were published in various collections but some are new to me because they were written more recently and first appeared in various publications. ‘The Narrow Jet’, for instance, was first published in Paris Review 173 Spring 2005 and ‘Sea Story’ in the Guardian 15 March, 2013. Medusa’s Ankles is a new collection published in 2021.

AS Byatt – surely one of our most accomplished authors – is now 85 and it is possible that her best lies behind her. But what a best that is! Later this year I shall re-read Possession a book I adored when I first read it (more than once) in the 1990s.

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Next week on Susan’s Bookshelves: Tenderness by Alison Macleod.

 

 

Paula Hawkins really is quite something isn’t she? First there was The Girl on The Train (although not her first novel) which got right under people’s skin and now this taut 2021 title which also hits you between the eyes but in a different way. No wonder it was a Sunday Times bestseller last year.

We’re on the canal in the Islington/Clerkenwell area where some houseboats are moored near some houses. A young man, an artist, who lives alone on one of them is brutally stabbed to death early one morning. Four people seem to know something about this: Miriam who lives on the next door boat, Laura who has apparently spent the night with him, Theo a novelist who lives nearby and Theo’s ex wife Carla.

Hawkins’s great strength is the way she drip feeds information as she gradually reveals the complex network of connections between the four main characters. It’s a long way from standard crime fiction and it’s writing for grown ups. You have to pay attention to pick up the subtleties. She sometimes reminds me of Ruth Rendell.

At the heart of the drama are two subplots – how did Theo and Carla’s infant son die when he was in the charge of her late sister, Angela? And did Theo steal the plot of a manuscript shown him by Miriam which is predicated on a dreadful incident in her youth? It’s all immaculately woven together and I didn’t spot the end-twist coming – not the one relating to the opening murder but the one concerning Theo’s novel. You read the last page with a triumphant sense of justice having been done.

The characterisation is delightful too. Laura’s elderly friend Irene is one of the best fictional folk I met in the whole of 2021. And one really feels for poor tortured, anguished Angela whom we encounter only through the memories of others. The sense of canal side life is warmly evoked as well – I’d quite like to live on a houseboat if I could make it as attractive and well organised as Miriam’s.

Next week on Susan’s Bookshelves: Medusa’s Ankles by AS Byatt

This is a substantial short story first published in mini book form in 1999. Over the years Bennett has developed a pretty creative relationship with London Review of Books and this story is an example of that – and one of several such tiny, Beatrix Potter-size books on my bookshelves with Bennett’s name on.

Bennett’s characterisic laconic lugubriousness  colours  the story of Denis Midgley’s experience of his father’s death. It’s both funny and poignant –  a Bennett tradmark.

Midgley is called out of the secondary school at which he teaches English to go to the hospital where his plumber father is lying, dying after a stroke. Once he’s there we get a lot of well observed staff comments and behaviour and there’s Aunt Kitty who has set herself up at the hospital and specialises in non seqiturs, often racist. Other family members eventually turn up and Bennett’s depiction of them is a dead pan treat. The dialogue – as you’d expect – is wonderful. This could just as easily be a short play as a short story.

At home Midgley has an unsypathic wife, devoted to caring for her own resident mother, with whom rapport is strained. His relationship with his children is not great either. Midgley is, in short, a bemused man who finds any sort of real contentment elusive. Even Valery Lightfoot, one of the nurses looking after Midgley senior isn’t likely to change that.

It’s an entertaining one hour’s read for a dark evening when you need something intelligent but unpretentious.

Next week on Susan’s Bookshelves: A Slow Fire Burning by Paula Hawkins

Show: Pinocchio

Society: Chichester Festival Theatre (professional)

Venue: Chichester Festival Theatre, Oaklands Park, Chichester

Credits: A new adaptation by Anna Ledwich. Music by Tom Brady. From the original novel ‘The Adventures of Pinocchio’ by Carlo Collodi. (Chichester Festival Youth Theatre)

Pinocchio

4 stars

Lewis Renninson and Company in Chichester Festival Youth Theatre’s Pinocchio. Photo: Manuel Harlan


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Performed by CFT’s Youth Theatre.

A year ago I watched this show on Zoom because Covid regulations were tightening by the hour. Then, they had to cancel the rest of the run. What a joy, this year to see it revived and to be there in person.

Now in the hands of revival director, Bobby Brook, Pinocchio which was originally directed by Dale Rook has a cast of sixty-eight, about half of whom were in last year’s aborted production. Some young actors are back but in different roles, all demonstrating what a marvellously developmental experience CFT’s Youth Theatre is.

Anna Ledwich’s adaptation of Carlo Collodi’s novel stresses the family values, forgiveness and redemption which underpin this story of a puppet turned boy who runs away, tells lies and makes lots of mistakes but is eventually reunited, contrite, humble and relieved with his puppet maker father.

It’s a piece which lends itself to working in bubbles (if you need to) because it’s episodic – most  sections using immaculately well directed ensemble to good effect. And I still like the way Ledwich’s text manages to work in a bit of environmental awareness in the underwater scene.

There is a certain amount of cast rotation. On press night I saw Lewis Renninson as Pinocchio, wobbling his way to boyhood with professional panache. I especially liked his donkey dance during that sinister episode when he is turned into a donkey by a cruel circus owner and forced to dance as an attraction.

Funmi Ayaji gives us a very commonsensible but exotic fairy who acts as a sort of invisible guardian to Pinocchio. And Honami Davies does a fine job as the cricket who is Pinocchio’s forthright voice of conscience. Of course he often ignores her and she gets very cross.

It isn’t easy for a teenager to portray an old man but Spencer Dixon is pretty convincing as Gepetto whose unconditional love for his “son” is quite moving. I was moved too by the way they hugged each other. Last year hugs had to be mimed because of social distancing rules.

Tom Brady’s music purrs happily along in the capable hands of an (unseen, unfortunately) six-piece live band led by Colin Billing. There’s a duet between Pinocchio and Geppetto which stands out for its attractive harmony. And as last year I especially liked slinky Cat and Fox number with its hint of Kurt Weill.

I can’t finish this review without a word of praise for Isobel Buckler’s delightful, shiny orange Lobster with the Russian accent. Her nonchalance and stage presence gets a well deserved audience chuckle every time she speaks.

It’s a fine show of its type – and I see quite a lot of youth and student work. As ever Chichester does it splendidly.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/pinocchio-5/

Show: Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

Society: Cambridge Theatre Company

Venue: Great Hall at The Leys. The Fen Causeway, Cambridge, Cambridgeshire CB2 7AD

Credits: Lyrics by Tim Rice and music by Andrew Lloyd Webber, based on the character of Joseph from the Bible’s Book of Genesis. An ameatur production by arrangement with The Really Useful Group Ltd.

 

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

4 stars


Rarely have I enjoyed an evening in the theatre so unequivocally. The warmly familiar show itself packs more smile-factor than almost anything else I can think of. And CTC’s practice of using its vibrant, enthusiastic, talented youth theatre alongside very competent non-professional adults works a treat.

Director/Choreographer. Chris Cuming. sets the show in a school library with primary school children reading books so the set is a bit Matilda-like but it’s an inspired idea. The children and teachers are re-enacting the story of Joseph in assembly so the headmaster becomes Jacob, the PE teacher becomes Pharaoh and other roles emerge from the community. As the story starts we move from grey school uniforms into colour (costumes by Liz Milway). And it works splendidly; fizzing with visual and aural energy throughout.

Vikki Jones is outstanding as the teacher/narrator, holding the book she’s pretending to read from, “directing” her charges, singing and dancing well  and making it  all look smilingly, professionally effortless.

Ben Lewis, initially a puzzled bespectacled teenager in his school tie, morphs into a charismatic and ultimately authoritative Joseph and sings with maturity.  Rodger Lloyd has enormous fun with the Elvis/Pharaoh number gyrating his hips and pointing at women in the front row and Lake Falconer finds gentle gravitas in Jacob.

But the real star of the show is the ensemble which moves continuously with volumes of slick, well disciplined exuberance. Cuming really knows how to get the very best from them. Even the finale/curtain call is a choreographic gem.  And let’s hear it too  for Jennifer Edmonds’s eight piece band on a high platform at right angles to stage right. Lovely clarinet work from Graham Dolby and I know the xylophone in “Any Dream Will Do” is just a key board switch but it sounds great.

Of course it wasn’t perfect – there was the occasional bum note and missed entry. This was the opening night after all. A superb achievement, though, by any standards.

I couldn’t help comparing this show with my disappointing 2019 experience of seeing the much hyped version with Sheridan Smith, Jason Donovan and Jake Yarrow which I found forced and oddly unengaging. CTC’s lively, imaginative show is anything but and I know which version I much preferred. Thank you, CTC. This was just what I needed just before Christmas and a real antidote to some of the lacklustre pro shows I’ve seen in recent weeks.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/joseph-and-the-amazing-technicolor-dreamcoat-12/

Show: Dick Whittington – and – Sleeping Booty

Society: West End & Fringe

Venue: Bridge House Theatre. 2 High Street
, Penge,
 London SE20 8RZ

Credits: Dick Whittington by LUKE ADAMSON. Sleeping Booty by BRENDAN MATTHEW & LUKE ADAMSON

 

Dick Whittington – and – Sleeping Booty

3 stars

The newly reopened Bridge House Theatre in Penge is celebrating Christmas with a pair of pantos – one for children and the other for adults using almost the same cast. I saw them consecutively on the venue’s gala night. And, seeing two pantos in one evening, I can report first that it’s like watching a traditional rep company or being at Edinburgh and is therefore a pretty powerful showcase for versatility. Second, it’s an experience almost as long as seeing an uncut Hamlet. We started at 6pm and finished just before 11pm. If nothing else, it speaks volumes for actor energy.

The first half of Dick Whittington, set mostly in a Penge fish and chip shop, is stronger than the second in which some of the incidents and numbers are a bit protracted. I quite liked the “educated” jokes such as the running alliteration gag and I admired the use of uncompromising vocabulary: “Nubile” and “most verbose of vermin” for instance. That said, the whole show is a bit wordy for young children.

The reactions, though, tell their own story. The playing space at the Bridge House is a simple, informal square, with seats on three sides and no larger than the average classroom. The complete absence of any semblance of a fourth wall makes the children feel effortlessly included. One boy (maybe 9) put his hand up and demanded of Steve Banks (good) as Rattigan, the dastardly rat, “Who exactly are you?” At the end a very small girl (probably under three) took over the space near her front row seat and happily joined in the dancing. It certainly keeps cast members on their toes.

Sleeping Booty – in which co-writer Brendan Matthews gives us a menacing Wagnerian-horned Carabosse  is, of course, a very different sort of show. In a sense “adult pantomime” is a contradiction in terms but it worked for the audience I saw it with who showed their enjoyment with gales of raucous laughter at the many sex jokes, the funniest of which was a series of escalating sweet puns delivered by George Lennan with nicely judged nuance and timing. Lennan, incidentally, is interesting to watch as two contrasting dames. His Dame Sarah is funny and ridiculous without being especially camp. By the time we’re over the 9pm watershed his Queen Constance is up several notches with lots of filthy flirtatiousness.

But the best thing in Sleeping Booty is Alex White delivering a hilarious but understated Bojo. Nothing as cheap or obvious as a blonde wig but he has all the gestures, umming and erring and mannerisms perfectly especially the very serious injured tone. He is also fun as Tom Cook the straight guy in Dick Whittington and I like his singing.

Ellie Walsh is an outstanding actor. She brings oodles of panache and neat dancing skills to a Dick who manages to be charismatic without too much swashbuckling or thigh slapping. And her sweary King Cole, catching eyes in the audience and stomping around crossly is excellent.

I also reckoned Olivia Penhallow’s cheerful cheeky cat (good singing voice) but I was less taken with her work as narrator in the second show. Sarah Louise Hughes screams, shouts and pulls faces, first as a drunken Fairy Good and later as a very spoiled Princess Aurora, among other roles. It’s initially amusing but soon gets wearisome because it’s relentless. She should have been directed to dial it down occasionally.

There is no space at The Bridge House for a built set but it is learning to do clever things with projection on its back wall. Simon Nicholas’s projection mapping gives us, among other things Penge East Station with a moving train, a desert island and a castle with bats.

Luke Adamson and Joseph Lindoe have done a marvellous job in getting Bridge House Theatre up, fitted and running again in its new upstairs space. It would have been a challenge at any time but they’ve achieved it against the pandemic. I wish them all the best for the new year and look forward to seeing more shows there soon – whether “received” or home produced.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/dick-whittington-and-sleeping-booty/

LETTERS I NEVER SENT – Max Stafford-Clark (Book Guild)

Star rating: one star ★ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Dear Max

Because your disparate new book of ideas, reminiscence and self-flagellation is presented as a series of letters, I am reviewing it in the same format, although as far as I know we’ve never met. I don’t think much of it as a way of structuring a book but it seems an appropriate way of responding.

Yes, of course we all know that you founded Joint Stock and Out of Joint and that you ran the Royal Court for years out of which came a great deal of new work and innovatory thinking which probably helped to change the face of theatre in Britain. I’ve seen and admired a fair bit of your work over the years.

We also know that it all fell apart in 2017 when you were drummed out of your post because of allegations of sexual harassment ….

To read the rest of this review go to Musical Theatre Review https://musicaltheatrereview.com/book-review-letters-i-never-sent-max-stafford-clark/

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All the Graham Greene novels I read and enjoyed in my last teens, when I first discovered him, have sat on my bookshelves for years waiting to be revisited. It wasn’t easy to choose a starting point but in the end I plumped for The Power and the Glory, on the basis that it was (I think) the title recommended to me by an English teacher and thus the first one I read.

Set in Tabasco, a state in Mexico, in the 1920s it tells the story of a priest on the run at a time when the Communist government was trying both to suppress Catholicism and to enforce prohibition. Greene coined the term “whiskey priest” for people like his unnamed, alcoholic dependent, central character.

In a sense it’s a quest story as the man moves from place to place in an increasingly hopeless search for safety – and even when he gets across the border his conscience drives him back to face his inevitable fate. At heart he is conditioned to turn the other cheek and put his fellow human beings first.  Not that he conforms, in any way, to anyone’s idea of a “good” man but he is deeply uneasy about some of the things he’s reduced to such as granting absolution in return for alcohol.

Greene, who understands traditional Catholic mentality very well, explores the condundra, ambiguities and unease perceptively. The priest – who hasn’t been allowed properly to be one for some years –   has a bossy mistress (whom he has come to loathe) and a child that he’d like the freedom to love and get to know. His travels take him through their village.  He is greeted, wherever he goes, with a mixture of conditioned reverence, contempt and fear. It is a capital offence to harbour a priest and the local police are enthusiastically  hunting this one with the exception of one individual who is arguably the novel’s moral compass.

I did not notice, when I first read this the parallels between this situation and 16th century England when some of the great Catholic houses had hidden chapels and priest holes in which to hide the resident priest if they were raided. It also – in 2021 – feels oddly topical given that we’ve recently seen churches closed and people punished for meeting in private houses. Patterns repeat themselves for different reasons.

The writing in The Power and the Glory is graphically evocative. There’s a lot of squalor along with the anguish and Greene makes sure the reader feels it. I also felt, and was moved by the priest’s very human failings. He is frightened of pain, for example. He doesn’t want to put other people in danger but, for a long time, it’s a matter of survival.

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Next week on Susan’s Bookshelves: Father! Father! Burning Bright by Alan Bennett