The Rape of Lucrece Performance by Gerard Logan Review

A couple of nights ago, I went to the theatre to see a performance of Shakespeare's poem The Rape of Lucrece delivered by Gerard Logan.

The poem is based on the story told by the Roman historian Livy about the rape of a virtuous Roman matron Lucretia, by  Tarquin son of King Tarquin Superbus ("the Proud"). Lucretia tells her husband Collatinus what has happened before witnesses and then kills herself. This inspires Marcus Junius Brutus to swear an oath that they will be avenged against this grievous assault upon Collatinus' wife. Ultimately this leads to Tarquin being driven into exile and the inauguration of the Roman Republic.
The actor was wearing a sort of dun coloured salwar kamez which was remeniscient of a Roman tunica (the trousers were a wise addition for performance in the winter months). Over his shoulder he draped a length of white cloth to produce the effect of a Roman toga. The cloth was to fulfil many roles in the course of the narrative. The actor came and stood alone in the centre of the unadorned stage, with only drumroll from offstage as accessory. He spoke the parts clearly, most of the time powerfully conveying the emotions of the protagonists, Tarquin as he debates with himself talking himself round his doubts about the propriety of outraging his hostess.
When he spoke the part of Lucretia the effect was a little jarring in a way that was possibly deliberate. Shakespeare starts by laying cloying emphasis on her helplessness and purity calling her "dove", "lamb" and such like. Too whole hearted an expression of this depiction of the heroine can leave the reader/speaker in the uncomfortable position of joining with the rapist in objectifying Lucretia, the building up of her chastity and vulnerablility rendering her violation the more piquant. It was perhaps his discomfort with or wish to question these lines that seemed to give his expression of Lucretia's pleas and distress a kind of mocking falsetto. Later, when the raped woman finally pulls herself together, giving expression to anger and thoughts of vengeance and of how her honour might be restored, his delivery of her voice improved, although admittedly it also became more definitely masculine, scarcely distinguishable from the raging Tarquin so it could just be a limitation of range that produced the effect.
Lucretia's self condemnation arouses a complex of responses and interpretations. On one level she seems to be acquiesing to the Roman cultural assessment of  the rape of a respectable woman as significant as an egregious insult to her respectable  husband. There is little sense that she personally has been violated or only in so far as she is a wife rather than simply a human being. She insists that though innocent she must die or else her example may allow other adulterous women to get away with it. On the other hand, Lucretia's taking of her own life is arguably the only way she can regain control over her own body and situation, her act of violence in which she anniliates herself can be seen as both negating and confirming the annihiliating act of Tarquin. As the poem drew to a close, the white cloth had become Lucretia's corpse, first mourned over by husband and father who argued over who had the greater claim upon it and later paraded about the streets of Rome as a political tool.

Paranormal Activity Film Review

Watched Paranormal Activity last night. I came to it with high expectations, based on a review I had read in the Guardian, recommending it highly for its subtlety. It is a film very much in the Blair Witch tradition - the unfolding action viewed through a camera set up by the protagonists.

Without spoiling too much, I think I can say that the basic premise was that a young couple, bothered by possible paranormal activity at night in their home have set up a camera in the hope of capturing concrete evidence. At first they are light hearted, perhaps only a little self-consciously displaying their affection for each other in front of the camera and before others. The intrusion of the camera is an amusing novelty in their lives. Inevitably things turn darker and escalate. I was left speculating how far the dark force that haunted them came from within or without, how far was it nourished or engendered by the tensions simmering beneath the surface of their happy relationship?

I must say I found  some of the action a little slow and repetitive, even inconsequential; perhaps the refusal to deliver resolution offers more in the way of verisimilitude than tidy plot development but half way through, I found myself becoming impatient. Yes there is something in the house and it moves things around, no, wandering around in your underwear shouting at it won't help.

The exorcism reference (cut from some versions of the film) was absurd with its hints about unfortunates chewing off their own arms.

On the other hand I was clearly sufficiently influenced by the film to be just a little disturbed when my laptop started inexplicably making noises on its own in the middle of the night...

Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino Review

At the moment I am enjoying rereading "Grotesque" by Natsuo Kirino. It is a compelling and disturbing book focusing on the twisted lives of a group of young women who attended "Q" an elite school/university (apparently the two can be combined in Japan) in which there is a polarisation between the super rich girls who have been there since elementary school and the hard working less privileged girls who are admitted later through their hard work. Like her previous novel "Out" it is a dark tale but with characters that appeal even less to the reader's sympathy. In the earlier novelthere was at least initially a grizzly cameraderie between the group of women factory workers as they rallied round their friend. In this novel the principle protaganist is almost entirely unsympathetic as she coldly watches and even gratuitously hastens the disintegration of those around her. She is a lonely and twisted character, deeply affected by the constant comparisons made between her and her beautiful sister Yuriko. Prostitution and murder blights the lives of the other main female characters. A friend of mine who had enjoyed "Out" was repelled by this novel seeing it as self-hating and anti-feminist. To me the novel seemed instead an angry indictment of the competitive, image obssessed society that shaped and distorted these women. The initially over-achieving character who ends by taking a bizzarre pride in the fact that she juggles being a business woman and a prostitute seems to mirror the twin expectations of  and pressures upon women in contempory society to be both beautiful and sexually appealing while at the same time be successful career women. Glossy magazines such as Cosmopolitan exhort women to not only work hard but look good, go to the gym, buy the right products, cook the right meals and have sex with an equally successful if less well groomed male in a variety of positions. The prostitute/businesswoman character who boasts of her career to sexual clients and sneers at her female colleagues for not venturing into the world of prostitution is indeed a grotesque image of someone trying to meet all the expectations thrown at the modern woman.

Another aspect of the novel that I really enjoyed was the vivid portrait of the Chinese character Zheng's life in a remote Chinese village and his epic and horrendous train journey to the big port city to find work. The novelist brings the world of a snobbish private girl's school and the world of a desperately poor immigrant to life with an equally unflinching eye.