My Family and Other Animals (NHB Modern Plays) E-Book

Gerald Durrell

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 137

Beschreibung

'The sky turns the colour of a jay's eye. The sea turns a deep royal purple. The mist lifts in quick, lithe ribbons, like a conjuring trick. Before us lies the island…' It's 1935, and an eccentric English family – four children, their widowed mother, and Roger the dog – arrives on the sun-soaked shores of Corfu to start a new life. For eleven-year-old Gerry Durrell, the extraordinary landscape provides the perfect playground. Its exotic fauna inspires a life-long fascination with the animal kingdom – and his much-loved memoir My Family and Other Animals. Janys Chambers' acclaimed stage adaptation was first seen at York Theatre Royal, and invites other theatre companies to make ingenious and inventive decisions, bringing to life all the inhabitants of Durrell's cherished island – whether they walk and talk, fly and squawk, crawl or swim or slither. 'Simply a delight... The play's triumph is in the way it captures the exuberance of youth and the strangeness of the new culture that Gerald and his family find themselves in... it's there in Janys Chambers' adaptation, which keeps chunks of Durrell's evocative prose while adding some wonderfully funny embellishments' - The Stage 'Durrell gets the revival he deserves... it fairly fizzes with life' - Daily Mail 'Weaves the poetic, wide-eyed prose of Gerald Durrell's childhood memoir into a really charming and fun play' - Whatsonstage

Leseprobe

Gerald Durrell

MY FAMILY AND OTHER ANIMALS

adapted for the stage byJanys Chambers

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Production Notes

Original Production Details

Characters

List of Songs

My Family and Other Animals

A Message from Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust

About the Authors

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Production Notes

Janys Chambers

I hope you enjoy reading and performing this play as much as I enjoyed adapting it – and, before that, reading, over and over again, Gerald Durrell’s fantastic original book. It has been, since childhood, one of my very favourite books, so evocative of the Greek islands which cast their magical spell over Durrell as a little boy, and, many years later, over me; so beautifully written; and above all, so full of the most extraordinary and wonderful characters – a delight both for actors to perform and audiences to enjoy.

The script has been written to be very flexible, and for you to find your own staging solutions and discoveries throughout your production process, but here are some notes which may help you with staging the play.

Casting

The play is written for a minimum of eleven actors, with four of them doubling, but the cast size is hugely expandable, with the latter roles splitting into many cameo parts.

Gerald Durrell himself is represented by two separate actors: the man (Gerald) and the boy (Gerry), with one actor voicing both of these parts until the very end of the play, when Gerry speaks for the first time. I chose to do this because I was fascinated by the total absorption of the child in his ‘bubble’ world of natural history, but a separate young actor could easily voice the young Gerry if a director wishes to play this differently.

Other actors can be used in the depiction of the creatures, and/or in the songs (see notes on these).

Staging and Design

Performed originally ‘in the round’ at York Theatre Royal, the play can be staged indoors or outdoors, in the round, in thrust, in traverse or end-on. The set need only be simple, with a background of walls, flats or cloth painted in those iconic Greek colours: the bright azure blue of sea and sky, the dazzling white of many of the buildings, the honey colours of stone and sand. There could be a few splashes of olive green and bougainvillea pink.

Embedded in the script is the idea of using many differently sized trunks, cases and boxes as the only furniture. It conveys the gypsy-like nature of the family (a ‘travelling circus’), as well as being useful to create, as simply as possible, the play’s many different locations. Different configurations of these trunks and cases can instantly and flexibly create the ferry boat, the hotel rooms, or the three villas with their rooms commandeered by different family members and their various tables, desks and chairs. The top of an old trunk standing on its end will make an excellent cooker for Mother; the side of it, a wonderfully crumbling wall in which scorpions can be found by Gerry. And when the family move property, they just move their luggage to a new area of the stage and reconfigure it. Props (Leslie’s guns, Margot’s bottles of acne curative, Larry’s typewriter, and so on) can be taken out of, and returned to, these trunks.

The actors playing the family members can ‘live’ in their spaces when not actively involved in scenes, or exit, as the director sees fit.

Animals

The various animals which are so intrinsic to the story offer a larger company even more opportunities for participation – and they can be created in a number of different ways. Roger the dog is such a vital character that he should be played by a (potentially show-stealing) human actor.

In an adult cast, the other animals could also be played by younger actors in costume, and coached in their appropriate movement and behavioural patterns to give a sense of scale.

Animals can also be represented by actors wearing half or full masks, or models of the animals can be worn ‘on the head’, helmet fashion, with the actors beneath depicting their movements and sounds. These ‘helmet creatures’ can be made from card, papier mâché or fabric; they could even be knitted.

If puppet animals are preferred and the company has the budget, there are plenty of skilled puppet-makers out there who would relish making such a range of interesting animals. But if budget is tight – or just for the fun of making them – puppets can be most simply fashioned out of newspaper into appropriate shapes, tightly bound in masking tape and covered with layers of glue and more newspaper; then painted in acrylic, and attached to and manipulated by sticks. This style of puppet works especially well with the four dogs in the script – Widdle, Puke, Dodo and Puppy – as the sticks look like dog leads and the dogs look like they are being walked by their puppeteers.

My friend Alison Pitt, a professional artist and maker, has very kindly sketched a step-by-step guide to this kind of simple puppet:

Both actors and puppeteers should dress in black or in the principal colour(s) of their animal – black with touches of white for the ‘magenpies’, and grey for the donkey, Quasimodo the pigeon and Alecko the gull.

Achilles the tortoise, both live and dead versions, and the two water-snakes should be made, like the dead duck which Mother plucks and Leslie’s dead boar, as simple props to be hand-held (or hand-dragged, in the case of the boar).

The scorpions, like any other insects referred to, should remain invisible, best represented by the focus of the onlookers’ eyes, the movement of their head – and panic.

The Boat and the Bog

The biggest challenge for the director of this adaptation is the capsizing boat. One possibility (I’m sure there are many others) would be to make a large roundish boat (in cardboard or balsa wood for lightness) painted in Leslie’s glorious colour scheme, perhaps with one strong strut-like seat across it, but without a bottom.

Carried on by the characters as per the script and held above a rippling sheet of light-blue cloth (also with a hole in it, and supported at the corners by four other cast members) the hapless Peter would then have only to step into the boat with his mast to go right through both holes and disappear from view. He could then ‘swim out’ from underneath the ‘sea’ at any edge of the cloth. Then for Gerry’s ‘voyage’, both cloth and boat would simply be set flat on the ground and the child climb inside.

A similar method – an opaque muddy cloth with a hole in it – can be used for Larry’s collapse into the marsh. Ideally he would emerge from the cloth dripping with some real water and looking like he’s splattered with mud.

Sound, Music and Songs

The subtle and discriminating use of sound is of huge importance in the script – the sound of cicadas for me immediately conveys the Greek islands.

The original production had specially composed music, but plenty of traditional Greek music is available in the public domain or at little cost. Some of the songs I’ve included could be set to this. The songs in the script are, of course, optional, although in addition to exploiting the diverse talents of a large cast, they help to change pace and mood within the play, and create atmosphere.

Pace

The story is episodic in nature. Indeed, if your company needs to perform a shorter production, some episodes could be detached from the script. But episodic doesn’t mean slow! The piece as a whole should be played fast, especially the comedy – cue-to-cue with not a second between the lines; this will allow the slower and more lyrical passages to breathe.

These are only a few thoughts and suggestions about staging. As ever, the most wonderful thing about theatre is that there are many imaginative ways to stage everything. Please let us know about any particularly brilliant ideas and successes!

This adaptation of My Family and Other Animals was first performed at the Theatre Royal, York, on 3 June 2011, with the following cast:

YANI/CUSTOMS OFFICER

Martin Barrass

LESLIE

Stephen Billington

AGATHI/LUGARETSIA/

MRS KRALEVSKY/MAGENPIE

Laura Cox

SPIRO

Gordon Kane

JONQUIL/SOPHIA/

ROSE-BEETLE MAN/HORSE/

DONKEY/MAGENPIE

Helen Kay

ROGER THE DOG

Michael Lambourne

LARRY

Jonathan Race

MR KRALEVSKY/DURANT/

HOTEL MANAGER

Michael Roberts

GERRY

Simeon Truby

MOTHER

Julia Watson

PETER/MICHAEL/TARKAN/

GEORGE/KOSTI

Simon Yadoo

YOUNG GERRY

Felix Cruden Smith/

George Orpe/

William Osborne

Director

Damian Cruden

Assistant Director

John R Wilkinson

Designer

Jane Linz Roberts

Lighting Designer

Richard G Jones

Composer

Christopher Madin

Sound Designer

Craig Vear

Pupper Maker

Beckie May

Mask Makers

TongueTied Theatre and Anna Kestevan

Deputy Stage Manager

Clare Morse

Voice Coach

Susan Stern

Translators

Nina Hajiyianni and George Bellos

Characters

The following characters are played by one actor with no other role:

GERALD DURRELL, narrator in 1956, thirty-one

GERALD (GERRY), in 1936, eleven

MOTHER

LARRY

LESLIE

MARGO

ROGER THE DOG, physical, non-speaking role

The following multi-role combinations are for a minimum of four other actors. (More are a bonus.)

1. CAB DRIVER

SPIRO

GEORGE

MICHAEL

PETER

KOSTI

LOCAL YOUTH

2. CUSTOMS ASSISTANT

DONKEY

ROSE-BEETLE MAN

SOPHIA

JONQUIL

3. CUSTOMS OFFICIAL

HOTEL MANAGER

YANI

TARKAN

DOCTOR ANDROUCHELLI

KRALEVSKY

DURANT

DIMITRI THE TAXI DRIVER

LOCAL YOUTH

4. HORSE

AGATHI

LUGARETZIA

MRS KRALEVSKY

Note

Gerald, as the narrator, is usually detached from the remembered physical action of his family. But sometimes, in the most vivid moments of the play, he ‘becomes’ Gerry, as it were, all over again, speaking for him and as him, reliving and re-enacting the past physically with Gerry. In these moments, the two – Gerald and Gerry – may move in unison.

Gerry, Gerald’s younger self, never speaks until the very end of the play, and never looks at, or is even aware of, his older self, until that point.

If preferred, however, all Gerry’s lines could be spoken by a young actor.

Creatures

DONKEY

ACHILLES the tortoise (alive and dead)

QUASIMODO the pigeon

WIDDLE and PUKE, two dogs

MAGENPIES

DODO the dachshund

Dodo’s PUPPY

Two WATER-SNAKES

ALECKO the gull

Songs

‘Fire in the Garden’, trans. By M. Johnston, ref. Anthology Ekloghai Apo Ta Traghoudhia Tou Ellinikou Laou (Selections from Songs of the Greek People) by Polites.

‘Keravnos Ki Astrapi’ by Pantelis Thalassinos

‘Sallasana Sallasana Mendilini’, Turkish folk song

‘Na Zisis’– ‘Happy Birthday’ in Greek

‘Miá Voskopúla Agápisa’, traditional Greek song

ACT ONE

Scene One: ‘The Beginning’

A dark, silent, shrouded space. We can just make out the shapes of trunks, boxes, and suitcases, and what looks like furniture. Some of this, we later realise, is also made out of suitcases and trunks.

Lights up on GERALD holding a huge shell: a pink queen conch. He stares at it; lifts it up high to examine it. As he does so, the dull grey light of an awful English summer creeps in and the soundtrack of his memory begins: the ticking of a pendulum clock, of driving rain on a window, of waves beating on a shore; of music.

Suddenly, the eleven-year-old GERRY springs out of a trunk, carrying a notebook, a pencil, a box containing other shells, and labels. GERALD reacts sharply to his younger self.

GERRY crosses over to an Indian rug on the floor, puts everything down on it, flings himself down, and starts labelling shells. He has a terrible cold and breathes heavily through his mouth.

The adult GERALD, suddenly remembering the queen conch’s position on the rug, places it there. GERRY does not see him, but instantly picks up the shell to label it, as if it had been there all along.

GERALD’s family now comes at him from all directions: MARGO, her face scarlet with acne, steps out from behind a partially draped mirror to peer anxiously at her reflection – GERALD hurrying to remove the cloth for her; LESLIE, cotton wool sticking out of his ears, climbs out of another trunk and starts cleaning his revolver; and MOTHER, tossing her concealing cloth aside herself, is revealed, seated in an armchair, sneezing and sniffing, avidly turning the pages of a new cookery book.

Someone is still missing. GERALD fixes on a trunk. He moves towards it slowly, warily, gets close, pauses. The tension builds. Gingerly, GERALD reaches out a hand to open it.

A furious LARRY shoots up from the floor behind him. GERALD jumps a mile.

LARRY. Bloody climate!

GERALD (to the audience). Of course…

LARRY. Why do we stand it?

GERALD.…It’s Larry who starts it!

LARRY. Just look at it! In fact, look at all of you!

GERALD. I suppose we weren’t a very prepossessing sight that day…

LARRY. Go on, take a look.

GERALD. The weather had brought with it all the usual ills to which we were prone. (Moving across to GERRY.) It had poured catarrh into my skull – like cement – so that I was forced to – (Imitates GERRY.) breathe through my mouth. (Moving on to LESLIE.) It had inflamed the convolutions of my brother Leslie’s ears, so that they bled… delicately…

LESLIE (pulling at it). Blasted cotton wool…

GERALD.…but persistently. (Moving on.) For my sister Margo, it had delivered a fresh dappling of acne spots.

MARGO. It’s definitely getting worse.

GERALD. For my mother, a rich, bubbling cold…

MOTHER. Ach-ooo…

GERALD.…and a twinge of rheumatism.

MOTHER. Ah…

GERALD. Only my brother Larry was untouched… but he was irritated by our failings.

GERALD has to get out of the way as LARRY marches over.

LARRY. Look at Margo… swollen up like a plate of scarlet porridge…

MARGO. Don’t be horrid, Larry!

LARRY. Leslie, wandering around with fourteen fathoms of cotton wool in each ear…

LESLIE (unravelling). What?

LARRY. Gerry sounding like he’s had a cleft palate from birth… and as for you, Mother… you look more decrepit and hag-ridden every day.

MOTHER. I do not!

LARRY. Yes you do. You look like some horrible old washerwoman, and your family looks like a series of illustrations from a medical encyclopaedia.

MOTHER glares and retreats behind her book.

(Snatching it from her.) Stop hiding behind…

LARRY/GERALD (GERALD suddenly remembering).…Easy Recipes from Rajputana…

LARRY.…and listen to me. What we need is sunshine. Isn’t it, Les? Les? Leslie?

LESLIE (unravelling). What?

LARRY. See? It’s a major operation to hold a conversation with him. What a position to be in. One brother can’t hear what you say, and the other can’t be understood. It’s time something was done. I cannot be expected to produce deathless prose in an atmosphere of gloom and eucalyptus.

MOTHER (taking her book back). No, dear.

LARRY. What we need… is sunshine.

MOTHER. Yes, dear.

LARRY. A country where we can all grow.

MOTHER. That would be nice.

LARRY. What about Greece? George says Corfu’s wonderful.

MOTHER (reading). Yes, dear.

LARRY. Why don’t we all just pack up and go there?

MOTHER. If you like.

LARRY. You agree?

Everyone looks at MOTHER. Then everyone looks at LARRY.

When do we go?

Everyone looks back at MOTHER.

MOTHER. Er… well, that is to say – (To LARRY.) you could go out there, dear, and have a look. Then you could write and tell us if it was nice, and we could all follow.

LARRY. Oh no. That’s what you said about Spain, and I sat in Seville for two interminable months waiting for you, while you did nothing but write me massive letters about drains and drinking water, as if I was the town clerk. This time, if we go to Greece, we go together.

MOTHER. You do exaggerate, Larry. Anyway, I can’t go just like that.

LARRY. Why not?

MOTHER. What about the house?

LARRY. Sell it.

MOTHER. But I’ve only just bought it.

LARRY. Be able to sell it untarnished then.

MOTHER. Don’t be ridiculous, dear. It would be madness. (Beat.) It’s out of the question.

GERALD. So we sold the house, and fled. Like a flock of migrating swallows.

Scene Two: ‘The Journey’

They all open the trunks and suitcases and pack everything – rug, mirror, clock, books, paper, pencil, shells, mirror, revolver – inside them.

GERALD (to the audience). We take with us only the bare essentials.