Red Ellen E-Book

Caroline Bird

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

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

'A working-class woman inside the walls of Westminster? If that is not espionage, I do not know what is.' Forever on the right side of history, but on the wrong side of life, Labour MP Ellen Wilkinson is caught between revolutionary and parliamentary politics as she fights for a better world. Battling to save Jewish refugees in Nazi Germany; campaigning for Britain to aid the fight against Franco's Fascists in Spain; leading two hundred workers in the Jarrow Crusade against unemployment and poverty... she pursues each cause with a passionate, reckless conviction. And yet – despite a life spent running into the likes of Albert Einstein and Ernest Hemingway, serving in Churchill's cabinet, having affairs with communist spies and government ministers – she still finds herself, somehow, on the outside looking in. Caroline Bird's play Red Ellen is the remarkable true story of an inspiring and brilliant woman. It was first produced by Northern Stage, Nottingham Playhouse and the Royal Lyceum Theatre Edinburgh in 2022.

Leseprobe

Caroline Bird

RED ELLEN

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Original Production Details

Characters

Notes

Red Ellen

Afterword

Acknowledgements

Bibliography of Research Material

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Red Ellen was first co-produced by Northern Stage, Nottingham Playhouse and Royal Lyceum Edinburgh, and performed at Northern Stage, Newcastle upon Tyne, from 25 March 2022, before touring to the other venues and to York Theatre Royal. The cast was as follows:

ELLEN

Bettrys Jones

ANNIE

Helen Katamba

DAVID

Jim Kitson

ISABEL

Laura Evelyn

OTTO

Sandy Batchelor

HERBERT

Kevin Lennon

MR ANSLEY

Mercedes Assad

All other parts played by members of the company

Director

Wils Wilson

Set and Costume Designer

Camilla Clarke

Music and Sound Designer

Jasmin Kent Rodgman

Lighting Designer

Kai Fischer

Movement Director

Patricia Suarez

Intimacy Director

Vanessa Coffey

Fight Director

Kaitlin Howard

Dramaturg

Kate Leys

Wardrobe Supervisor

Naomi Daley

Assistant Director (RTYDS)

Bex Bowsher

Production Manager

Marty Moore

Stage Manager

Alec Reece

Deputy Stage Manager

Nichola Mecrow

Assistant Stage Manager

Grace Branch

Dresser

Laura Jane Aitman

Characters

ELLEN WILKINSON, born 1891. Between the ages of forty-one and fifty-five in this play

ANNIE WILKINSON, Ellen’s older sister. Born 1881. Between the ages of fifty-one and sixty-five in this play

HERBERT MORRISON, Labour politician, Leader of London County Council, the party’s leading anti-Communist. Born 1888. Between the ages of forty-four and fifty-eight in this play

OTTO KATZ, Comintern Agent, Czechoslovakian, Soviet propagandist. Born 1895. Between the ages of thirty-seven and fifty-one in this play

ISABEL BROWN, British Communist activist, secretary of The Relief Committee for the Victims of German Fascism. Born 1894. Between the ages of thirty-nine and forty-eight in this play

DAVID, local man from Jarrow. Sheet metal worker, now unemployed. Fifty-one in his scene

MARY, a young woman from the tenements in the East End of London, with four children. Thirties

LILY, Mary’s mother, also a lifelong East Ender, with six children. Early sixties

WINSTON CHURCHILL, born 1874. Sixty-six years old in his scene

MR ANSLEY, a representative for the Jarrow Labour Exchange. Any age. Possibly young

ALBERT EINSTEIN, born 1894. Forty years old in his scene

ERNEST HEMINGWAY, American novelist. Born 1899. Thirty-seven years old in his scene

JOHN DOS PASSOS, American novelist. Born 1896. Forty years old in his scene

Note on Text

A forward slash (/) indicates an interruption.

Notes on Play

The play spans the last fourteen years of Ellen’s life (1933–47).

Can be played by seven actors or more, doubling parts.

As Ellen’s height (4ft 9in) was such a distinct and commented-upon feature it is important that the actor playing her is similar in height.

Other minor characters can be played by the cast.

Notes on Ellen

It was remarked upon that Ellen was always falling over in the Houses of Parliament due to running in the corridors… So, where possible, she should literally run from scene to scene, falling over occasionally, picking herself up, running again… This should feel real and slightly worrying, not farcical.

Where possible, in every scene she should be wearing a different outfit; although she will probably have to change on the run. Her outfits start out bright and bold, but then the colours become darker (after the Spanish Civil War) as she progresses upwards in her parliamentary career.

Ellen was a very heavy smoker. I have occasionally written her smoking into the stage directions but not always. Throughout the play she should be smoking more often than not. She also drinks a huge amount of coffee.

The combination of her innate spirit and the adrenaline in her asthma medication means Ellen can’t keep still; even when standing on the spot there is a sense of motion within her, always looking for something to do, fiddle with, access, observe. Even thinking is a physical act for her, thoughts visibly rippling across her face.

Finally, Ellen was labelled ‘fiery’ and ‘passionate’ by other people, mainly men, but there was obviously something a lot more complex and mercurial happening. To inspire action in others, a woman must often duck and weave, switch tones, keep the air around themselves nimble and unpredictable. She was fiery, yes, but a thousand other adjectives too.

‘Jarrow March’ song

Music by

Jasmin Kent Rodgman

Lyrics

Caroline Bird

Choir

The Felling Male Voice Choir

Vocalist

Kate Doherty

This text went to press before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

ACT ONE

Scene One

Summer 1933, Labour Party Conference.

ELLEN. Throughout this conference, I have been haunted by our incomprehensible inaction. Fascism is knocking at the door of the world and where are we? All tucked up, swaddled in the assumption that life as we have always known it in these islands is going on. The Reichstag went up in flames this year, Germany is a police state with a barbarian anti-Jewish policy and yet we, the Labour Party, are barely even talking about it. And why is that? Because the anti-fascist movement in Britain is largely funded by the Communist Party and any association with the Far Left would play badly for us in the voting booths. Indeed, I can see Herbert Morrison’s ears glowing from here at the mere thought of a ‘united front’. (I sincerely hope, when he reaches the Pearly Gates, Saint Peter can reassure him there are no Soviets inside.) People are dying. And what is the government doing? Nothing. And most of the House of Lords openly admire Hitler. Are we planning, as the opposition, to be equally ineffective? Where is our team spirit? Where is our energy and drive? Squabbling on the Left strengthens the Right. The tide of fascism is rising, and we need all hands on deck.

HERBERT stands up slowly.

HERBERT. Miss Wilkinson says we should act with more energy and drive. She is amply possessed of both. Although sometimes it goes into the wrong channels and she is a bit of nuisance to us.

ELLEN. Sorry, Mum.

HERBERT. Perhaps Miss Wilkinson – instead of running around with people whom she knows are nothing but trouble – might be better occupied concentrating her undoubted ‘energy and drive’ on the electoral chances of her own party.

ELLEN’s speaking time is over so she cannot retaliate.

Scene Two

The Café Royal – a favourite London hangout for Communist intellectuals.

ELLEN and ISABEL at their customary table, on their third bottle of wine…

ELLEN. Party politics is this massive game of tiddlywinks now, tiny little tiny tiny moves, everyone wants to be the master tiddlywinker, no bravery, no bold decisions, just /

ISABEL. Tiddling with their winkers.

ELLEN. Wahey!

ISABEL. Communists are the only ones who care.

ELLEN. Oi, I care.

ISABEL. Your party doesn’t.

ELLEN. They’re scared.

ISABEL. Of us? We’re the heroes of the Left: the revolutionaries, the internationalists, the marchers, bucket-rattlers, radical publishers /

ELLEN. Rabble-rousers.

ISABEL. If a rabble wants rousing, we’ll do it. The Communist Party is fighting fascism twenty-five hours a day.

ELLEN. You spat right in my eye.

ISABEL. Sorry.

ELLEN. Quite liked it. Tangible passion.

ISABEL. Top-up?

ELLEN. You can’t waste a booth in the Café Royal.

ISABEL. Virginia Woolf was in here earlier, tight as a nun’s chuff. I said, ‘Would you like to write a cheque for the anti-fascist cause?’ She said, ‘I’m sorry I don’t have a pen.’ I said, ‘You poor soul, a writer without a pen, please keep mine, you can use it for your next novel about miserable posh people.’ But she was gone.

ELLEN laughs.

The British ruling classes would rather see Hitler come to power than the social changes brought about by the classes that oppose him. That is the truth.

ELLEN. But this is what I don’t understand, Isabel. Labour isn’t the ruling classes…

ISABEL. Then they should stop acting like it.

ELLEN. They’re being ‘cautious’.

ISABEL. A coward’s favourite word.

ELLEN. Because the country sees socialism as this failed project. We were an impotent minority government for two years and then we resigned in disgrace. So, now, we must ‘win back public trust’.

ISABEL. Urgh, the public.

ELLEN. We can’t look too left-wing. We need an easily digestible ‘clear narrative’.

ISABEL. Start compromising now, you’ll never stop.

ELLEN. They tell me, ‘Pick your battles, Ellen.’ No. When the world is burning, you put out the flames; you don’t run around with your hose choosing between fires. If I was running the Labour Party…

ISABEL. Which you will…

ELLEN. ONE DAY. I’ll say, to hell with caution. To hell with a safe little electable watered-down trickle of a stance.

OTTO KATZ appears at ELLEN’s shoulder, carrying three shot glasses.

OTTO. We have a world to win.

ELLEN. Jesus Christ.

OTTO. Almost. Ladies…

ISABEL. No, bollocks, you’ve ruined it.

OTTO. What?

ISABEL. ‘Ladies.’ Vodka shots. Jauntily angled hat. Get out.

OTTO. This is Becherovka, nectar of my homeland, made from a secret Czechoslovakian recipe. Greetings to my fellow alumni of the Lenin School, Isabel Brown. And special greetings to the imminent Ellen Wilkinson of whom I have heard so much.

ISABEL. Eminent.

OTTO. Hmm?

ISABEL. Not imminent. Eminent.

OTTO whips a tiny notebook from his inside jacket pocket, quickly writes the word ‘eminent’, then slips the notebook back in his pocket.