A pet for life- not just for a show

I suppose this has been bit of a wake-up call. I was blissfully lucky with Les Primas. Everyone was approachable and considerate, everything was beautifully organised and there were no stupid demands. It was the very opposite of the diva-like behaviour being parodied on stage. I never took that for granted, but this has made me appreciate that cast and creative team all the more. So much hinges on having an organised, sensible, tactful director. One who isn't particularly well organised and is severely lacking in People Skills isn't anyone's dream employer, least of all the lowest minion of all- the bunny chaperone. I'm still not entirely sure what the point was in going to enormous fuss and expense (though my fee was absolute peanuts) to get a real rabbit to appear in two scenes, after which he's replaced by a toy for a climax that apparently made no sense whatsoever. There's nothing about about a rabbit in the text at all; it's all in the director's warped mind. It isn't like needing a real Toto for The Wizard of Oz. How did I get involved? Well, I was up for just about anything to get a foot in the door in the theatre industry, but now I know that there really are limits. I should have backed out when Herr Director (HD) (who clearly hadn't done any research about the practicalities) told me that the bunny was coming from a pet shop, as I don't approve of animals being bought and sold when there are so many in rescue centres that need homes. I'd made it pretty clear that I couldn't keep the bunny permanently, and had been led to believe that there was someone interested in taking him, but that fell through. I have never felt as awkward as I did in that pet shop when HD asked if Bunny (name withheld in interest of privacy) could be returned in a week's time and he was informed that animals are sold for life. Which is exactly the way it should be. I'm not sure when I'll get over that feeling of shame about buying an animal just to use it. I was supposed to be delighted when a deal was negotiated to have him returned to the pet shop the day after the show was over. On the contrary, I was disgusted by the attitude that it's acceptable to buy an animal, use it for a few days in your little project and then return it when you don't need it any more. I can't believe no one else picked up on that. If you want to 'hire' a rabbit, find someone who already has one as a pet and is willing to have it appear (and if that isn't possible, use a toy). He might be sold eventually, but goodness knows when. We're in the middle of a credit crunch; only a fool would pay £50 for a rabbit when you can get one for free from a rescue centre.

The first night was absolute hell- I was given the wrong instructions, which the rather unpleasant leading lady blamed me for and there was a misunderstanding somewhere along the line (I maintain that I only did as I was told) which caused HD to speak to me quite harshly in a way that was completely uncalled for. It's awful not knowing if anyone is on your side (I'll always be grateful to the lovely tenor for trying to comfort me and telling me it wasn't my fault- which it wasn't, but I'd been made to feel as if it was). Funny how HD claims to be experienced in theatre, opera and film (in fact, IMDb suggests that his screen experience is limited to three individual TV episodes in German soap operas, and the last one was ten years ago) in his resumé, but is very coy about giving examples. My family and friends who saw the show (I didn't get to see any of it as I was backstage the entire time) found it pretentious, convaluted and incomprehensible thanks to the inept direction and awkward staging (although I'm sorry they had a wasted evening, such comments really were music to my ears), and all agreed that Bunny was the best thing about it. Lots of people cooed over him and told him he was the star of the show. Being a modest kind of bunny, he's trying not to let all the praise go to his head, but I think he's entitled to feel rather pleased with himself. He was absolutely good as gold throughout and is astonishingly docile and relaxed for a rabbit.

At the time of going to press, Bunny's future is undecided, but one thing is for certain- he won't be going back to that pet shop. I'm unutterably relieved that my mother has come round to my way of thinking. Ideally, a young family with a garden will be delighted to give him a home. He really is the ideal family pet. If not, he'll stay with us. It isn't what was planned, but he's been very happy here, and adjustments can be made. We all love him and a home is a home. It's hard to imagine another job coming with so much emotional and ethical baggage. Should I continue in this line of work, you never know what's going to happen.

Persephone Books and Dorothy Whipple's short stories

 I first came across Persephone Books at the age of twelve, when an older friend at school who had just left for university told me that her favourite book outside the writings of Jane Austen was Mariana by Monica Dickens. Naturally, I had to get hold of a copy. I can't remember if I was surprised by its appearance or not, but I certainly now love the way they look- chic and understated. That said, I love the Classics editions too and if they bring Persephone to a wider readership, that can only be a good thing. The endpapers are all beautiful and are chosen with such care (the ones for Marjory Fleming by Oriel Malet have to be my favourites). I didn't get any more Persephones after Mariana for a long time (they are expensive and it was before everything was available at the click of a button), but found myself completely addicted to 'middlebrow' women's writing of the early to mid C20 about a year and a half ago. I wish I'd discovered it all a few months earlier as I could have done my dissertation on it. Oh well. I've had the most amazing luck finding them in charity shops (in London, Leamington Spa, Leicester, Kenilworth, Chichester), for which I am unbelievably grateful, and now have quite a nice collection (fifteen and counting). I don't always agree with everything Nicola Beauman says, but the books are consistently excellent and illuminating. I think they have an good balance of 'hot water bottle' reads (Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day was my refuge on my most depressing evening of the year) and more serious works. I think both can be equally satisfying. If I had to choose a favourite, it would have to be Saplings by Noel Streatfeild, which left me a little numb upon completion. It never should have gone out of print and ought to be on every Literature of World War II reading list. It must be the most wonderful place to work- it was hard not to feel a bit jealous of the (delightful) woman who served us when my mother and I went to the Lamb's Conduit Street shop to choose three for my birthday.

Dorothy Whipple is probably Persephone's flagship author, and it isn't difficult to see why. Her books are so readable and unputdownable. They're of their time in the sense that the world she knew is very different to what we're familiar with today, but they're also timeless. I flew through Someone at a Distance and They Knew Mr Knight even though the climax in both was inevitable.  It's quite easy to underestimate the simplicity of her writing- it's probably just as tricky to do effectively as [insert complex literary form of your choice]. I wish I could be more like that, I have a tendency to write in sentences that go on forever. This style works very well in the short story form as there's nothing fussy about them.  

The Closed Door and Other Stories is definitely not a comfort read- all the stories are rather bleak in their way and I've never encountered so much bad parenting in one book! Many of the stories are variations on the same theme- parents who use their daughters (always a daughter, never a son) as unpaid servants, and it really is quite horrifying and comparable to slavery. The title story for some reason reminded me a bit of an Eva Ibbotson novel ("Ernest and Alice Hart had not expected or wished for children and after ten years of uneventful matrimony, they viewed the birth of a daughter with dismay"). However, if it had been an Ibbotson novel, the daughter Stella would have been remarkably beautiful and accomplished and found some dramatic means of escape, but Whipple is too much of a realist to allow that to happen, as any possibilities (such as an encounter with a young man named Jimmy in a tea shop) are thwarted by her parents who realise that having a daughter isn't so bad after all, as they'll have someone to look after them in their old age. Her eventual marriage to a kindly, much older doctor starts off well, but turns sour when her widowed mother moves in with them, making life absolute hell. I like to think that Whipple is depicting a particularly extreme example, but it makes one wonder how common lives like this were, as it's certainly a point of fascination here. The second longest story, 'Family Crisis,' about a daughter's elopement with a con man, is shown from a rather Mr Collins-esque father's point of view (with a surprisingly hopeful ending) and 'After Tea' has a particularly interesting twist. Amongst the 'other' stories, I particularly liked the quiet devastation of 'Wednesday,' about a divorcée's (tricked into committing adultery by her ex-husband) monthly visit with her children- a mother who actually loves her children (a rarity in this collection!), but finds them gradually slipping away from her ("She was Mummy and her supplanter was 'Mumsie.' The children had jibbed it at first. They wouldn't say it. But they said it now without a thought"). Simple and heartbreaking.

The second book I chose for Persephone reading week is the Diaries and Letters of Etty Hillesum, which is very long and dense (perhaps I should have chosen something shorter...), and I probably won't finish it for a while, but a review will be forthcoming when I do.

Les Primas

I've known for a while that I want to work in theatre. You could say an obsession with theatre is in my genes. However, if someone had told me that I'd be making my professional technical theatre debut (something I never did at amateur level- backstage was every bit as cliquey as onstage at school) with Les Primas, a drag ballet troupe in a pub theatre, I never would have believed it. It still feels a bit surreal. When I signed up at the Rosemary Branch Theatre as a sort of errands girl, I expected to sell tickets and deliver leaflets (which I did), but at the dress rehearsal I found myself put in charge of sound. I was probably more nervous than the performers on opening night (which was especially exciting as we were listed above the Mariinsky in Time Out). It's hardly the most complicated job (far less so than lighting), but I think being taken out of my comfort zone has given me a lot of confidence and I had such a high when everything went according to plan, and the show was received with enormous enthusiasm. I honestly hadn't felt so happy or positive in quite a long time. It's hard to overstate how good it felt to feel useful again.

I feel very lucky to have been able to watch the creative process, and to observe all the little details that make a show come together. The cast, led by the effervescent Joel Morris as prima ballerina Margot Funtyme (he's absolutely extraordinary in the sense that he dances- ON POINTE- and looks like a real ballerina- it isn't like watching a man in drag at all), are all remarkably talented. Joel is supported by Leigh Alderson (the perfect male dancer- I have no doubt that this young man has a very big future ahead of him and I may have nearly passed out on opening night when he delighted us with some surprise moves to 'I Get a Kick Out Of You') as premier danseur Rudolph Koklova, Ian Archer-Watters as Iamaya Plisetswanskaya (Margot's rival), actor and ballet newcomer (though you'd never guess...) Michael 'Tim' Heywood as character dancer Irek Tchnyob (and also offers some stand-up and cake as Doreen, the Northern cleaning lady), and finally Gary Albert Hughes (one of the loveliest people I have ever met) as hostess and singer Misty Willow (the ultimate in glamour- a bit like a benign Norma Desmond). It's the most wonderful, affectionate pastiche of classical ballet (the bitchiness, the upstaging, the milking of applause, the bows that go on forever), and the cast know how to milk every single nuance for every laugh it's worth. I love the way that they manage to blend the high camp silliness and the beauty and intricacy of the dancing together so skillfully. I have to admit that I was originally expecting it to be very much a niche show aimed at a very specific audience, but I couldn't have been more wrong. It's perfect for anyone who likes to be entertained (I appreciated how the innuendo was kept to a minimum- it's much funnier that way). Tutus, glitter, false eyelashes and fairy lights- what could be better?

Les Primas ought to be recommended on the NHS to anyone who's feeling low. As one audience member commented, "It's better than Covent Garden!" I couldn't have hoped for a more fun first show to work on. If they return to the Rosie, I'll have to force everyone I know to come along. I'm never going to be able to watch Swan Lake in the same way again, but somehow it feels worth it.

Graduation

After three years of study, I now officially have a 2.1 in English Literature from the University of Warwick. It's hard to believe that this part of my life is over. I'm going to miss the structure of uni life, and my friends (thank goodness for the technology that makes it so easy to keep in touch), but I am excited to see what this next stage of my life holds. I've been in full-time education since I was about three years old, and I need a change. It was fun wearing the gown (though I really think they ought to have pockets- you can tell they were designed by men!), but I still have a bit of a headache from the mortarboard. I was so nervous about my walk across stage, and the carpet and the ramp was truly inspired (no newly-polished floor or steps to trip on). One of the special guests receiving honorary degrees was Guardian theatre critic Michael Billington (I wonder if he needs a personal assistant, who would of course accompany him to all of the shows that he attends?), who grew up in Leamington Spa (where I spent my second and third years), and he talked about how Warwickshire nurtured his love of theatre. He also talked about how the role of the 'objective' critic is more important than ever in the age of bloggers where everyone can have a say. Not sure if I completely agree with that- I don't think any writer is ever entirely agenda-less. It seems very unfair that the hotshots get fancy engraved scrolls while we mere mortals only get a piece of paper, even though we're the ones who actually had to study for it.

I wonder when it became acceptable for everyone (from neighbours who never usually have anything to do with me to waitresses) to ask about my degree classification. I find it terribly impertinent. Wouldn't a simple, "That's nice, well done" suffice?

Introduction

There isn't a whole lot to say about me- I'm a 21 year old girl from London who's just finished a degree in English Literature, and I'm just trying to find my own little place in the world. I'm obsessed with theatre and (mostly) obscure early 20th century women writers, and a few other things. I love reading other people's blogs, and thought I'd have a go at writing my own. Let's see if I have the discipline for it.

The title of my blog is inspired by The Saga of Jenny from Kurt Weill and Ira Gershwin's musical Lady in the Dark. Enjoy Ute Lemper's magnificent rendition: