The Outsider by Albert Camus

This is going to be a short one - but then, I suppose it is quite a short book.

I recently read The Outsider by Camus (L'Etranger in the original French, sometimes translated as The Stranger). The original book, first published in 1942, was clearly written as a demonstration of a philosophical viewpoint - existentialism or a variation on it - but I couldn't help thinking that, looked at today, the hero of the book would probably be diagnosed with Asperger's or something along those lines.

I was talking with a friend who had also recently read The Outsider, and we both agreed that it reminded us slightly of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.

An interesting thought, that's all.

Persepolis - Marjane Satrapi

This was something of an enlightening read for me – for two main reasons. I’ve never read a graphic novel before. And I know next to nothing about the culture and history of Iran.

So Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi was educational on both counts.

First off, let’s deal with the graphic novel thing. Being a literature sort of person, I’d probably been guilty of an unconscious snootiness regarding graphic novels. Having read comic books as a kid (mainly Asterix and Tintin – sometimes in the original French as my dad thought this would help us learn the language!), I associated the form with light-hearted fiction for children.

Nothing wrong with light-hearted fiction for children – I read quite a lot of children’s books – but I think I may have been a bit suspicious of the comic-style form being used for adults. I certainly didn’t approach Persepolis expecting to be challenged by it intellectually.

But I was challenged by it. Not in terms of the words or syntax used, but by the ideas expressed and the themes explored. This is not a light-hearted ‘comic’. It graphically depicts violence, murder and suicide. The characters swear. They talk about sex, politics, religion. And through the words and pictures that Marjane Satrapi uses to tell her story, we are guided through a turbulent time in Iran’s history.

Persepolis is autobiographical, and through seeing how our main character’s life changes, we are given a glimpse into the political and religious upheavals in Iran in the late 20^th century. It’s pretty hard going sometimes. Some moments are powerfully moving and some are ideologically challenging.

I know very little about Iran’s history, and of its culture I only really know what I see on the TV news or what I’ve read about in books like Reading Lolita in Tehran. Most of what I know is about the oppression of women. And while this is undeniably a big deal in Persepolis, it’s made clear that it’s all part of a larger tapestry.

So this book opened a window. I learnt something about the revolution and the unrest that came before and after it. I couldn’t help reflecting on the situation in Egypt at the moment as I read it. I also learnt a bit about Iran’s war with Iraq (I was just about being born when this was actually happening), and it made me wonder about all the subsequent conflicts in and around the area.

What struck me most was how complicated it all is. The drawings in this book may all be in black and white, but the narrative itself doesn’t fall into black and white morality. I think I’ve come away from reading Persepolis feeling even more confused about Iran as a country. But then, perhaps that’s what happens when you have a little more knowledge. It’s easier to be certain when you’re ignorant.

So there are books that come and go and don’t leave much impression, and there are books that leave you thinking. I know that next time Iran is mentioned on the news I’ll be thinking about this book. And I know that next time someone recommends a graphic novel to me, I won’t be so slow to read it. Persepolis has left me just that little bit more knowledgeable, and just that little bit more open-minded.

Always good things for a book to do.

As You Like It - Marjanashvili Theatre at Shakespeare's Globe

There were a few things that affected my enjoyment of As You Like It by Georgia’s Marjanashvili Theatre at Shakespeare’s Globe on 7th May. It was a midweek afternoon and there weren’t many people in the audience; I was starting a cold; and there was a rather annoying tall woman who – despite the ample space in the Yard – somehow managed to stand right in the way wherever she moved. (Note to tall people at the Globe: if you choose a space and stick to it then shorter people can arrange themselves around you more easily).

That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy this Georgian language version of As You Like It. I did – it was charming, with some sweet ideas and amusing moments. But I was left with the feeling that I’d have enjoyed it more had it been in English – and this is not something I would have said about the multilingual Venus and Adonis I’d seen a few days previously. (See my Venus and Adonis review here: http://somethinglikereviews.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/venus-and-adonis-isango-ensemble-at.html).

Without the English scene synopses, and without some prior knowledge of As You Like It, I suspect I would have been rather lost in this production. As it was, there were times – in the wordier scenes – when the company felt the need to distract us by using their framing ‘off-stage’ narrative to provide physical comedy to keep us entertained. Of course this did the trick, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about being distracted from the ‘on-stage’ plot in this way.

As has been discussed recently by Nicholas Hytner, there’s that moment at the beginning of a Shakespeare play when you have no idea what the actors are talking about. Usually, your ear will tune in and you’ll soon be able to more or less follow. And the bits that are trickier to follow – well, that’s where the acting and direction become even more important in conveying meaning.

With these Globe to Globe productions, the visiting companies have this issue throughout their performances, as your ear just doesn’t tune in to a foreign language. Venus and Adonis, I thought, handled it very well. The live music, the choreography, the sharing of roles, even the different languages used – all of these helped to tell the story to the audience without the help of any translation.

But then, maybe it was a simpler story to tell. As You Like It can be a bit confusing even in English – lots of characters, entanglements, cross-dressing – so it’s no wonder that some of the intricacies of the plot got lost here. The emotions of the characters were beautifully conveyed – especially the moments where characters fell in love (the lingering looks, the leaves as confetti, the little ‘ding’ on the triangle) – but the causes and consequences of these emotions were not so clear.

So while there were moments where the story came alive, for me the language was a barrier in a way that it simply wasn’t when watching Venus and Adonis.

As I said, there were a few things that affected my appreciation of this production, and perhaps if I’d seen it on a different day I’d have enjoyed it more. If you had a different experience of seeing this As You Like It, let me know by leaving a comment below, or by contacting me on Twitter @SomethingLike_A.

Venus and Adonis - Isango Ensemble at Shakespeare's Globe

I didn’t know much about Venus and Adonis before I went to see it. I knew that it was a poem rather than a play, but while I’d heard the names of Venus and Adonis, I didn’t really know their story.

What I did know was that this South African production had been well-received at last year’s Globe to Globe festival, and that it was one of four international productions that had been invited back this year.

But I didn’t really know what I was going to be seeing when I went along to Shakespeare’s Globe on the afternoon of Saturday 4^th May.

The Isango Ensemble’s Venus and Adonis was performed in six languages (one of which was English). The programme, as they do when you go to see a ballet, included a synopsis of the plot so that the audience could follow what was going on – but actually the company told the story so well on stage that this was hardly needed.

For me, this production was all about the strong women. The role of Venus was passed between the women of the company, with each actress bringing a different quality to the part as Venus tried everything she could to entice Adonis. What’s that Motown song? The one with the line ‘I’m gonna use every trick in the book / I’ll try my best to get you hooked.’ That’s what the multiple manifestations of Venus seemed to be doing.

And while the women had a glorious time taking centre stage, the men made up the ensemble. I know the Globe are somewhat constrained by the parts Shakespeare wrote for women, but I couldn’t help thinking how unusual it was to see women so strongly central to a piece on this stage. And I don’t know if this was deliberate casting or not, but the women were physically more substantial than most of the men too. When Adonis walked through the audience in the Yard shortly before the interval, I was surprised to see that he was not much taller than me (and I’m what’s euphemistically known as ‘petite’).

Overall, this was a joyful production, with traditional African music and dance combining with a European operatic style to unique effect. While full of humour and vitality, there were also parts that were scary (Death, whose eye you were almost afraid to catch), and very moving (Venus’ lament towards the end of the piece). Sometimes the audience in the Yard alongside me was bouncing along to the music; other times it was so still and quiet it felt like everyone was holding their breath at once.

One of the wonderful things about the Globe is the proximity to the performers, and the actors in the Isango Ensemble were unafraid to look the audience right in the eye. I remember seeing Thom Yorke (of Radiohead) perform at a festival once, and he did something similar. When Thom Yorke – or a South African Venus – is singing, and they catch your eye and hold your gaze for a moment, there’s something spell-binding about it. And I think both audiences – at the music festival and at the Globe – had a similar feel, as if we were all under some sort of enchantment.

Adonis may not have fallen for Venus’s charms, but I have a feeling the rest of the Globe did.