Hello, hello. A nice (but busy) weekend in London – met up with blogging friend Angela, and with university friends Lorna and Phil, saw the Tate Modern and the locked outside of the British Library, bought some more Persephone books (Alas, Poor Lady by Rachel Ferguson; A Woman’s Place 1910-75 by Ruth Adam; A Very Great Profession by Nicola Beauman), and a non-fiction book called Identical Strangers which is by and about a pair of twins, separated at birth and reunited at age 35. As you might know, I’m fascinated by all things twin, and have already read most of this fascinating book – will be writing about it soon.
It feels a little mean to review a play which is only on in London at the moment, because getting to London isn’t feasible for many of my lovely readers, but you might derive vicarious interest – and some of you, like Stuck-in-a-Book’s favourite feline, Dark Puss, are City dwellers.
On The Rocks – at Hampstead Theatre until 26 July – is by Amy Rosenthal – if you recognise the name, it’s probably because her Dad is the late Jack Rosenthal, and mother is Maureen Lipman. She probably hates being introduced like that, but… well, I’m sure she’s proud of it too. Her play is a comedy about… actually, I’ll copy the blurb from the advertisement I picked up:
Spring 1916, DH Lawrence and his wife Frieda have found a new life for themselves in the remote Cornish village of Zennor. Rejuvenated by the wild beauty around them, they persuade close friends Katherine Mansfield and John Middleton Murry to join them in their Cornish idyll. But no sooner have Katherine and Jack arrived than long-simmering tensions bubble to the surface, and Lawrence’s dream of communal living starts unravelling before his eyes… Based on true events, this is the story of women, and men, in love. An uplifting and passionate comedy about four friends trying to live together, two marriages struggling for survival and a group of writers striving for creativity in the midst of war.
That doesn’t make me sound uber-highbrow, does it? On The Rocks has its philosophical moments, and is a thoughtful examination of disparate ways of life, but above and beyond that it is a comedy, and a very successful one. I urge anyone with the chance, do go and see it. Then read The Garden Party and Pencillings and Lady Chatterley’s Lover and… whatever Frieda Lawrence would have written.