Little Women (NHB Modern Plays) E-Book

Louisa May Alcott

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Christmas Eve, 1862. With their father away on the frontline of the American Civil War, the four March sisters – Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy – journey into adulthood, each determined to pursue a life on their own terms. But growing up means contending with love and loss, as well as the myriad twists of fortune that shape a life. Published in 1868, Louisa May Alcott's Little Women was an immediate critical and commercial success, and remains one of the best-loved novels of all time. This joyful and spirited adaptation was first produced at Pitlochry Festival Theatre and Watford Palace Theatre in 2022, directed by Brigid Larmour. An earlier version was staged at the Gate Theatre, Dublin, in 2011. It provides rich opportunities for any amateur company looking for an uplifting version of a classic story that's guaranteed to delight audiences.

Leseprobe

Louisa May Alcott Adapted for stage by Anne-Marie Casey

LITTLE WOMEN

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

Contents

Original Production Details

Characters

Note

Note on the Dialogue

Little Women

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Little Women was first performed at Pitlochry Festival Theatre on 21 July 2022. The cast was as follows:

ABIGAIL ‘MARMEE’ MARCH

Amelia Donkor

JO MARCH

Rachael McAllister

MEG MARCH

Jessica Brydges

BETH MARCH

Meg Chaplin

AMY MARCH

Anna Fordham

THEODORE ‘LAURIE’ LAURENCE

Richie Spencer

JOHN BROOKE/ PROFESSOR BHAER

Tom Richardson

AUNT MARCH

Deirdre Davis

Director

Brigid Larmour

Composer/Sound Designer/ Musical Director

Niroshini Thambar

Set and Costume Designer

Ruari Murchison

Lighting Designer

Kate Bonney

Movement Director

Saffy Setohy

Lighting Programmer

Neil McDowell Smith

Characters

ABIGAIL ‘MARMEE’ MARCH, forties

JO MARCH, seventeen to twenty-one

MEG MARCH, nineteen to twenty-three

BETH MARCH, sixteen to twenty

AMY MARCH, fourteen to eighteen

AUNT MARCH, sixties

THEODORE ‘LAURIE’ LAURENCE, eighteen to twenty-two

PROFESSOR FRIEDRICH BHAER, thirties

JOHN BROOKE, thirty, can be doubled with Professor Bhaer

Note

The American Civil War, fought between the Union (states that remained loyal to the Federal Union, ‘the North’), and the Confederacy (states that voted to secede, ‘the South’) lasted from April 12 1861 to April 9 1865.

Act One takes place as the war is raging, apart from the final scene which is set just after the Confederate army has surrendered.

Act Two is set in 1866, the year after the war.

Note on the Dialogue

A dash ( – ) at the end of a line indicates an interruption.

This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

ACT ONE

The theatre is pitch-dark.

Music. A triumphant version of ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic’.

Then, in the distance, the sounds of nineteenth century battle rise louder and LOUDER –

Suddenly, the vigorous POP of a toy pistol.

JO MARCH, seventeen, ‘with the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who is rapidly shooting up into a woman and doesn’t like it’, runs onto the stage. She is brandishing the pistol and a hand-written playscript.

Lights up on –

Scene One – The March House – Concord, Massachusetts, 1861

Christmas Eve. The March family home in New England. Heavy snow is falling outside.

It is a comfortable house, although the carpet is faded and the furniture sparse and very plain. A good picture or two on the walls, a large decorated Christmas tree in a bay by a window, and a piano.

At the front of the stage is a small writing desk and wooden chair. A large, battered trunk with ‘JO’ emblazoned on it, beside. This will remain in place throughout the play.

JO (calling, exasperated). Roderigo! Save me! Save me!

Her sisters MEG, nineteen, BETH, sixteen, AMY, fourteen, come running after her in a vigorous pistol fight that takes them over much of the furniture. MEG is the eldest and very striking; BETH is rosy, shy and bright eyed; AMY, pale and slender, always carries herself gracefully.

The four girls have a rag-tag set of costumes thrown over and under their dresses; moustaches, boots, swords, veils.

A pause. JO turns to AMY, gesticulating wildly at the script. AMY has forgotten her lines.

JO delivers a blood-curdling shriek and falls to the floor in a dramatic faint, her legs waving in the air.

AMY (sitting down). Roderigo! Save me! Save me!

JO. Amy, you are stiff as a poker…

AMY. I can’t help it; I never saw anyone faint, and I don’t choose to make myself all black and blue falling, tumbling flat as you do. I shall fall into a chair and be graceful. (Pointing at MEG.) I don’t care if Hugo does come at me with a pistol.

MEG laughs. BETH, now at the piano, plays a melodramatic rumble on the lower keys. JO gives a despairing groan.

JO. It’s no use! Do the best you can when the time comes, and if the audience shout don’t blame me.

MEG (taking off her boots and hat). I don’t mean to act any more after this –

JO. You won’t stop, I know, as long as you can trail around in breeches and wave a sword. You’re the best actress we’ve got and there’ll be an end of everything when you quit the boards.

BETH. I don’t know how you can write and act such splendid things, Jo. You’re a regular Shakespeare.

JO. Not quite. I do think The Witch’s Curse, an Operatic Tragedy is rather a nice thing, but I’d like to try the Scottish play, if only we had a trapdoor for Banquo. I always wanted to do the killing part. (She seizes the nearest weapon-like object.) ‘Is this a dagger I see before me?’

AMY. No! It’s the toasting fork with Beth’s slipper on it!

JO throws down the toasting fork and pulls off her hat to reveal her long and beautiful hair.

MEG (smiling). You’re old enough to turn your hair up like a young lady.

JO. I don’t want to be a young lady and if turning up my hair makes me one I’ll wear it in pigtails until I’m twenty. I’ll never get over my disappointment in not being a boy and it’s worse than ever now, for I’m dying to go and fight with Pa –

AMY. I wouldn’t like to sleep in a tent, drink out of a tin mug, and eat all sorts of bad-tasting things.

JO. Pa’s sitting in a muddy battlefield with rebel scum firing cannonballs at him. I’d say the tin mug is the least of his worries.

MEG. Amy, your airs are funny now but you’ll grow into an affected little goose if you don’t take care.

BETH (walking to the kitchen). If Jo is a tomboy and Amy a goose what am I please?

MEG. You’re a dear and nothing else.

BETH returns with a platter.

AMY. Oooooh! Muffins with cream for pudding…

She reaches a hand out, but BETH shakes her head.

BETH. We must wait for Marmee.

JO. I’m starving. Where is she?

AMY. Some very dirty little child came begging and she went straight off to see what was needed. I said to her ‘Marmee, it’s Christmas Eve’, but she said ‘what better time to think of those less fortunate than ourselves?’

AMY picks up her notepad and charcoal pencil and starts to sketch the muffins. MEG and BETH bring in more food and arrange the table as JO throws herself onto the rug.

JO. Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents –

MEG. It’s so dreadful to be poor.

AMY (absorbed in her drawing). I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have lots of pretty things and other girls nothing at all.

BETH. We’ve got Father and Mother and each other anyhow.

JO. We haven’t got Father and we shan’t have him for a long time.

Silence.

MEG. I know we agreed we shouldn’t spend money for pleasure, when our men are suffering so and I know I ought to make my little sacrifice gladly, but I’m afraid I don’t.

JO. We deserve a little fun; I’m sure we grub hard enough the rest of the time.

MEG. I know I do – teaching those dreadful children all day. I toil and moil so hard I might as well be on a treadmill.