The Skriker E-Book

Caryl Churchill

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: NHB Modern Plays
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 72

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

An extraordinary collision of ancient fairytale and fractured urban England. In a broken world, two girls meet an extraordinary creature. The Skriker is a shapeshifter and death portent. She can be an old woman, a child, a young man. She is a faerie come from the Underworld to pursue and entrap them, through time and space, through this world and her own. Caryl Churchill's play The Skriker was originally produced at the National Theatre, London, in 1994.

Leseprobe

Caryl Churchill

THE SKRIKER

NICK HERN BOOKS

LONDON

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Title Page

Original Production

Note on Layout

Characters

The Skriker

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

The Skriker was first performed in the Cottesloe auditorium of the Royal National Theatre, London, on 20 January 1994 with the following cast.

THE SKRIKER

Kathryn Hunter

JOSIE

Sandy McDade

LILY

Jacqueline Defferary

PASSERBY

Desiree Cherrington

YALLERY BROWN

Don Campbell

BLACK DOG

Brian Lipson

KELPIE / FAIR FAIRY

Philippe Giraudeau

GREEN LADY / JENNIE GREENTEETH

Lucy Bethune

GIRL WITH TELESCOPE / LOST GIRL

Melanie Pappenheim

HAG / WOMAN WITH KELPIE

Mary King

BOGLE / RAWHEADANDBLOODYBONES / DARK FAIRY

Stephen Goff

BROWNIE / RADIANT BOY

Richard Katz

MAN WITH BUCKET / NELLIE LONGARMS

Stephen Ley

SPRIGGAN

Robbie Barnett

GRANDDAUGHTER / BLACK ANNIS

Diana Payne Myers

GREAT-GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER / DEAD CHILD

Sarah Shanson

Director   Les Waters

Designer   Annie Smart

Music   Judith Weir

Movement   Ian Spink

Lighting   Christopher Toulmin

Note on Layout

A speech usually follows the one immediately before it, BUT:

1) When one character starts speaking before the other has finished, the point of interruption is marked / as in

JOSIE.

They will / if you ask.

LILY.

I don’t think so.

2) A character sometimes continues speaking right through another’s speech, e.g.:

LILY.

Get away, you’re crazy. / (To SKRIKER.) It’s all

JOSIE.

It’s her.

SKRIKER.

Mum, make her go away.

LILY.

right. (To JOSIE.) I never want / to see you

JOSIE.

It’s her.

Characters

THE SKRIKER

JOSIE

LILY

JOSIE and LILY are in their late teens

JOHNNY SQUAREFOOT

THE KELPIE

MAN WITH CLOTH AND BUCKET

YALLERYBROWN

PASSERBY

GIRL WITH TELESCOPE

GREEN LADY

BOGLE

SPRIGGAN

WOMAN WITH KELPIE

BROWNIE

DEAD CHILD

FAIR FAIRY

DARK FAIRY

RAWHEADANDBLOODYBONES

BLACK DOG

NELLIE LONGARMS

JENNIE GREENTEETH

BLACK ANNIS

HAG

LOST GIRL

BUSINESSMEN

THRUMPINS

BLUE MEN

PICNIC FAMILY

GRANDDAUGHTER

GREAT-GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER

Underworld.

JOHNNY SQUAREFOOT, a giant riding on a piglike man, throwing stones. He goes off.

The SKRIKER, a shapeshifter and death portent, ancient and damaged.

SKRIKER.

Heard her boast beast a roast beef eater, daughter could spin span spick and spun the lowest form of wheat straw into gold, raw into roar, golden lion and lyonesse under the sea, dungeonesse under the castle for bad mad sad adders and takers away. Never marry a king size well beloved. Chop chip pan chap finger chirrup chirrup cheer up off with you’re making no headway. Weeps seeps deeps her pretty puffy cream cake hole in the heart operation. Sees a little blackjack thingalingo with a long long tale awinding. May day, she cries, may pole axed me to help her. So I spin the sheaves shoves shivers into golden guild and geld and if she can’t guessing game and safety match my name then I’ll take her no mistake no mister no missed her no mist no miss no me no. Is it William Gwylliam Guillaume? Is it John Jack the ladder in your stocking is it Joke? Is it Alexander Sandro Andrew Drewsteignton? Mephistopheles Toffeenose Tiffany’s Timpany Timothy Mossycoat? No ’t ain’t, says I, no tainted meat me after the show me what you’ve got. Then pointing her finger says Tom tit tot! Tomtom tiny tot blue tit tit! Out of her pinkle lippety loppety, out of her mouthtrap, out came my secreted garden flower of my youth and beauty and the beast is six six six o’clock in the morning becomes electric stormy petrel bomb. Shriek! shrink! shuck off to a shack, sick, soak, seek a sleep slope slap of the dark to shelter skelter away, a wail a whirl a world away.

Slit slat slut. That bitch a botch an itch in my shoulder blood. Bitch botch itch. Slat itch slit botch. Itch slut bitch slit.

Put my hand to the baby and scissors seizures seize you sizzle. Metal cross cross me out cross my heartburn sunburn sunbeam in my eyelash your back. Or garlic lickety split me in two with the stink bombastic. Or pin prick cockadoodle do you feel it? But if the baby has no name better nick a name, better Old Nick than no name, because then we can have the snap crackle poppet to bake and brew and broody more babies and leave them an impossible, a gobbling, a no.

I’ve been a hairy here he is changeling changing chainsaw massacre massive a sieve to carry water from the well well what’s to be done? Brother brewed beer in an eggshell. I said I’m old old every so olden dazed but I never see saw marjory before three two one blast off!

Put me on a red hot shovel pushel bushel and a peck peck peck. Gave me red hot metal in a piping hot metal in a pie ping pong what a stink. Call the vicar to exorcise exercise regular sex a size larger six or seventh heaven and hellcat.

Chopped up the hag whole hog higgledy pig in the middle. Kelpie gallops them into the loch stock and barrel of fun fair enough and eats them, falls out of the water into love with a ladylike, his head in her lap lap lap, her hand in his hairy, there is sand in it there is and there is sand and shells shock. Bloody Bones hides in the dark dark dark we all go into the dark cupboard love all. See through the slit where he sits on piles of bloody boney was a warrior and chews whom he likes. Dollop gollop fullup.

But they’re so fair fairy fair enough’s as good as a feast day. Take them by the handle and dance in the fairy ring a ring ding sweet for a year and a day date data dated her and never finished the first reel first real dance in the fairy ring on your finger and bluebell would wouldn’t it. Their friends drag ’em out dragon laying the country waste of time gentlemen. Listless and pale beyond the pale moonlight of heart sore her with spirits with spirit dancing the night away in a mangy no no no come back again.

Eating a plum in the enchanted orchard, cherry orchid, chanted orchestra was my undoing my doing my dying my undying love for you. Never eat a fruit or puck luck pluck a flower if you want to get back get your own back get back to your own back to the wall flower.

When did they do what they’re told tolled a bell a knell, well ding dong pussy’s in. Tell them one thing not to do, thing to rue won’t they do it, boo hoo’s afraid of the pig bag. Open bluebeard’s one bloody chamber maid, eat the one forbidden fruit of the tree top down comes cradle and baby. Don’t put your hand in the fountain pen and ink blot your copy catching fishes eyes and gluesniffer. So he puts his hand in and wail whale moby dictated the outcome into the garden maudlin. Everything gone with the window cleaner.

Don’t get this ointment disappointment in your eyes I say to the mortal middlewife but of course she does and the splendoured thing palace picture palace winter policeman’s ball suddenly blurred visionary missionary mishmash potato, and there was a mud hit mad hut and the mother a murder in rags tags and bob’s your uncle and the baby a wrinkly crinkly crackerjack of all trading places, because of course it was all a glamour amour amorphous fuss about nothing. But she never lets on so she gets home safe and sound the trumpet. But one day I’m in the market with b and put it in the oven helping myself and she sees me and says how’s your wife waif and stray how’s the baby? And I say what eye do you seize me with? This eye high diddley, she says. So I point my finger a thing at her and strike her blind alley cat o’ nine tails.

Serve her right as raining cats and dogshit. Whatever you do don’t open the do don’t open the door.

I got a sweet sucker sweet till it melts in your mouth. Watched the bride a cock horse in her white lace curtain up trip through the grieve grove graveyard rosy and honeysuckle on her daddy’s armour, lurked and looked till the groom for one moribund strode up the pathtime. Hold this candle the scandal I said, and he stood till it gutterbed and went out. Then. What? No wedding party frock! no broad no breed! no family life jacket potato, no friends in need you ask! A hungered yours hundred years later. And a bit a bite a bitter bread and he was crumbs crumbling to dust panic.