Equivocation

Why, I ask myself, must theatre tickets cost so much? Professional theatre, that is. I am a big fan of amateur theatre, largely because as a starving artist I can still afford to see it sometimes. And also because an amateur production costs less, and the amateurs are therefore more likely to take a punt on an unknown playwright 🙂

Very occasionally, however, I’ll splash out on tickets for a professional production, which entails travelling at least as far as Wellington, which is about 20km away (12 1/2 miles for the imperialists).
Last weekend, we went to Wellington’s Circa Theatre to see Equivocation by Bill Cain. I loved it.


Guy Fawkes Mask

The central character is William Shakespeare, struggling with the artistic and ethical challenge posed by being commissioned to write a government propaganda-play about the Gunpowder Plot. On the one hand, the story as they’ve given it to him doesn’t hold together. On the other hand, if he reveals the truth (which he gradually ferrets out), hanging is only the start of what they’ll do to him. Really.

Truth matters. Truth can be dangerous, particularly to the teller. Truth can, in fact, be a matter of life or death.

Enter the delicate art of equivocation, or as Father Garnet (another character) calls it, “how to tell the truth in difficult times”. Whatever one may think of the idea of equivocation (do the ends justify the means, or is deception unethical regardless?) there is an interesting echo of Shakespeare’s dilemma in the modern world, where those who expose politically unpalatable truths still go in fear for their very lives. Manning, Snowden…
All right, the US President isn’t going to have them hung, drawn and quartered, but he does actually have the authority to order their extrajudicial execution. I prefer my own head of state: all the pomp and ceremony with none of the whacking.

Elizabeth II greets NASA GSFC employees, May 8, 2007 edit

Ideally, to my mind, a play should balance being entertaining with having something to say. Worst of all are the plays that have something to say but expect you to pay for the privilege of hearing it, without a scrap of entertainment to sweeten the often bitter pill.
Equivocation manages the balance very well. It’s the sort of play I’d like be able to write myself one day. I tend to be better at the entertaining fluff side of it, but if you look carefully there’s a meaning in there somewhere…

So, if you’re going to be in Wellington in the next couple of weeks, check it out. Clever script, talented actors, great production. Worth every cent, even for a starving artist.

The Awkward Conversations of Great Literature

Warning: potential spoilers lie ahead!

We can probably all remember Awkward Conversations we’ve been part of, but what about the ones we weren’t even there for? Conversations that technically never even happened, because they are fictional, but can make us squirm with sympathetic embarrassment nonetheless.

Mr Collins’ proposal to Miss Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice, for example. We, like Miss Elizabeth, want to get the unpleasant necessity over with as quickly as possible, but he drones on and on, pontificating about his two favourite subjects, viz. Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Mr Collins.

Thomson-PP11

A word of advice to any young lady readers: if you are proposed to by a man who mentions another woman more often during his proposal than he mentions you, refuse him. We know he doesn’t stand a chance with Lizzy, but he’s so certain of his own desirability he doesn’t even need her answer to start congratulating himself.
Full credit to David Bamber for truly conveying the depths of awfulness in this Pilbeam among parsons.

Agatha Christie’s Lady Bundle Brent, on receiving a similar proposal in The Seven Dials Mystery, opts to leg it out the window herself, not being burdened with a mother who will insist on her seeing it through. If anyone knows of a book in which the pompous proposer is defenestrated, please do let me know.

I’m currently half-way through Anna Karenina – for the first time – and I have already grimaced through some very awkward conversations. This one’s a prize-winner, though: Oblonsky comes to ask his brother-in-law (in town on business) to dinner.

Piotr Petrovich Karataev by I Turgenev Illustration by P Sokolov
It goes something like this:

Oblonsky: Come to dinner!
Karenin: I can’t.
Oblonsky: Why not?
Karenin: Because I am about to sever the ties between us by divorcing your sister, my wife.
Oblonsky: Oh! Well, come to dinner anyway…

What are your favourite Awkward Conversations? Tell all! Unless they’re in the second half of Anna Karenina, in which case please wait a few weeks before commenting…
Awkward silences also welcomed, although please include the context as well as the silence 🙂