The Taxidermist's Daughter (NHB Modern Plays) E-Book

Kate Mosse

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 100

Beschreibung

1912. In an isolated house on the Sussex salt marshes, Connie Gifford lives with her father. Robbed of her childhood memories by a mysterious accident, she is haunted by fitful glimpses of her past – whilst her father has become a broken man, taking refuge in the bottle, since the closure of his once-legendary Museum of Avian Taxidermy. A strange woman has been seen in the graveyard – and a few miles away, two patients have, inexplicably, disappeared from the local asylum. As a major storm hits the coastline, old wounds are about to be opened as one woman, intent on revenge, attempts to liberate another from the horrifying crimes of the past. The Taxidermist's Daughter is a thrilling Gothic story of violence, retribution and justice, adapted for the stage by Kate Mosse from her own internationally best-selling novel, and first performed at Chichester Festival Theatre in 2022, directed by Róisín McBrinn. 'A superb, atmospheric thriller, its Gothic overtones commanding attention' Daily Mail on Kate Mosse's novel

Leseprobe

Kate Mosse

THE TAXIDERMIST’S DAUGHTER

adapted for the stage by the author

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

Contents

Dedication

Introduction

Original Production Details

The Taxidermist’s Daughter

Songs and Poems

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Arts Information

For my beloved parents

Richard Mosse (1924–2011)& Barbara Mosse (1931–2014)

Introduction

Kate Mosse

The Taxidermist’s Daughter, which first published in 2012, is a Gothic thriller of revenge and sexual violence, retribution and recovered memories. Set in 1912, against the backdrop of a decaying museum of taxidermy where secrets are kept, it asks the question of what a woman should do if those who are supposed to protect her are those who she most should fear.

But it’s also a love letter to the wild and haunting landscape of the Fishbourne Marshes. Growing up in Fishbourne in the 1960s and ’70s, I loved the hushed stillness of the reed mace that towered over my head, the rills and streams that wound round and round, invisible in the reeds. The way the sou’westerly made the stalks rattle like bones. Chill autumn days, the air heavy with the smell of bonfires and dusk, the damp mulch of leaves underfoot. Sharp winter afternoons, the sky lowering purple and grey above the Sussex Downs, gulls wheeling out at sea, and the hawthorn and blackthorn bushes stark and bare. A sense of freedom and space and light, the ebb and flow of the tide over the mudflats and marshland.

So, how to bring this landscape to the stage?

There are huge challenges in adapting one’s own work – especially so internal, so Gothic a story as this one that thrives on atmosphere and suggestion: there are floods, taxidermy, flocks of birds, murder and the ever-present brooding landscape of the marshes to recreate in the auditorium. The key is, of course, to capture the spirit of the story, but turn it into something theatrical. To recreate the same sense of menace and landscape and jeopardy in a way that will hold the audience gripped in their seats from the first haunting note of music to the last.

Novel-writing is solitary, lonely even. The writer is responsible for creating the whole world – every detail, every moment of light and shade, every description. Theatre-making is collaborative. Joyously collaborative. There is a team of brilliant, ambitious and dazzling creative experts, each of whom plays an integral part in the process. Their skills made it possible for me to reimagine my characters as three-dimensional living and breathing people, to find a language to bring the landscape and Gothic darkness at the heart of the story to the stage. Together, we began to imagine how we could recreate the water rising higher and higher until it breached the sea wall, how we could capture the roar of the storm and decaying taxidermy museum, how we could watch a murder of crows flying black against the grey sky. The same story from a different point of view.

Feathers and colour and light, place and time. This is how a story – on the page and on the stage – takes flight.

This adaptation of The Taxidermist’s Daughter was first performed at Chichester Festival Theatre on 8 April 2022, with the following cast in alphabetical order:

LEWIS/CLERK

Geoff Aymer

CASSIE PINE

Pearl Chanda

CHARLES CROWTHER

William Chubb

FREDERICK BROOK/ LEVI NUTBEEM

Tim Frances

CONNIE GIFFORD

Daisy Prosper

CROWLEY GIFFORD

Forbes Masson

HARRY WOOLSTON

Taheen Modak

DAVEY REEDMAN

Akai Osei

SERGEANT PENNICOTT/ GREGORY JOSEPH

Alastair Parker

DR JACK WOOLSTON

Raad Rawi

GERALD WHITE

Howard Saddler

MARY CHRISTIE

Posy Sterling

JENNIE CHRISTIE

Connie Walker

YOUNG CASSIE

Robyn Ellan Ashwood

CHILD CONNIE

Haddymai John/Lauren Van Wyk

Director

Róisín McBrinn

Designer

Paul Wills

Lighting Designer

Prema Mehta

Music, Sound and Musical Direction

Sinéad Diskin

Video Designer

Andrzej Goulding

Movement Director

Chi-San Howard

Fight Directors

Rc-Annie

Casting Director

Charlotte Sutton CDG

Voice and Dialect Coach

Charmian Hoare

Assistant Director

Aaliyah Mckay

Production Manager

Ben Arkell

Costume Supervisor

Laura Hunt

Props Supervisor

Marcus Hall Props

Wigs, Hair and Make-up

Betty Marini

Company Stage Manager

Suzanne Bourke

Deputy Stage Manager

Lorna Earl

Assistant Stage Managers

Christopher Carr

Charactersin order of appearance

CASSIE PINE, the Giffords’ former maid, late twenties

DAVEY REEDMAN, a neglected village boy, thirteen-ish

CROWLEY GIFFORD, the taxidermist, sixties

GERALD WHITE, gentleman and property agent, late fifties

FREDERICK BROOK, dealer in chinaware, late fifties

CHARLES CROWTHER, a wealthy gentleman, sixties

VERA BARKER, a vagrant and Graylingwell patient (non-speaking)†

CONNIE GIFFORD, the taxidermist’s daughter, early twenties

MARY CHRISTIE, the Giffords’ maid, fifteen-ish

CHILD CONNIE, ten years younger than Connie

YOUNG CASSIE, ten years younger than Cassie

HARRY WOOLSTON, Dr Woolston’s son, mid-twenties

LEWIS, the Woolstons’ butler‡

DR JACK WOOLSTON, consulting physician at Graylingwell Sanitorium, sixties

SERGEANT PENNICOTT of the Chichester Constabulary

FLOWER SELLER†

CLERK at Graylingwell Sanitorium*

LEVI NUTBEEM, Fishbourne grocer and postmaster‡

MRS JENNIE CHRISTIE, Mary’s mother, late forties/early fifties

GREGORY JOSEPH, a local labourer*

MRS PENNICOTT

Plus additional actors for the procession, Chichester citizens, wedding guests.

Roles marked † ‡ * can be doubled.

Time

ACT ONE Wednesday 24th and Thursday 25th April 1912.

ACT TWO The following day and Saturday 28th September.

Location

The main action takes place over forty-eight hours on the Sussex Marshes in 1912 – the wettest spring on record – in the villages of Fishbourne and Apuldram, and the nearby cathedral city of Chichester.

Unless specified, the action is fluid and scenes run straight on.

Although not seen clearly until Act Two, Scene Five, the decaying old museum forms the backdrop to the action.

Connie’s Recovered Memories

Should have a sense of blurred reality. They occur in the same locations, but ten years earlier (1902). The past and present exist simultaneously. Each RM is triggered by both an object/event and a sound memory. The song/dialogue underscores the RMs and can be as long/short as the director needs.

The RMs could be filmed/projected.

Notes on Text

Words in SMALL CAPS are sung.

Chichester is pronounced ‘Chidester’ by villagers and working people: Mary and Jennie Christie, Levi Nutbeem, Davey Reedman, Gregory Joseph, Lewis and Pennicott.

Crowther and Crowley are pronounced ‘ow’ (as in ‘ouch!’) not ‘o’ (as in ‘crow’).

Songs

The full song lyrics appear after the play.

When marked for scene changes and Recovered Memories with (… etc.), the songs and verses can be as long as required.

‘The Death & Burial of Cock Robin’ (Roud Folk Song Index 494)

‘The Vigil of St Mark’ by James Montgomery (1813)

‘One for Sorrow’ (Roud 20096)

‘I Sowed the Seeds of Love’ (Roud 1180)

This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

ACT ONE

Scene One

Fishbourne Church, the marshes.

Wednesday 24th April, just before midnight.

The sound of heavy rain and blustering wind.

CASSIE (offstage).

WHO KILLED COCK ROBIN? WHO KILLED COCK ROBIN? I, SAID THE SPARROW, WITH MY LITTLE BOW AND ARROW. I KILLED COCK ROBIN.

The light comes up to reveal CASSIE PINE in a white dress and a blue coat. She is handling four dead birds – a jackdaw, a magpie, a rook and a crow – and cutting a length of wire. She is removed from the main action.

The sound of trapped live birds flapping and calling.

Offstage, MALE VILLAGERS chant ‘The Eve of St Mark’s’.

Men gather in darkness on the edge of the drowned marshes. Watching. Waiting. For it is believed that, on the Eve of St Mark’s, the ghosts of those destined to die in the coming year will be seen walking into the church at the turning of the hour. It’s a custom that has long since died away in most parts of Sussex, but not. Not here, where the saltwater estuary leads out to the sea. Not here, where secrets are kept. Here, the old superstitions still hold sway. Skin and blood and bone.

But will they come?

CASSIE begins to hang the dead birds on a measure of wire.

VILLAGERS enter in procession carrying lamps and torches. DAVEY REEDMAN is hiding, watching.

Four fine gentlemen. Mr Jackdaw, Mr Magpie, Rook and Crow.

CROWLEY GIFFORD stumbles into the graveyard, drunk and distressed.

The sound of birds flapping louder.

ALL THE BIRDS OF THE AIR FELL A-SIGHING AND A-SOBBING, WHEN THEY HEARD OF THE DEATH OF POOR COCK ROBIN, WHEN THEY HEARD OF THE DEATH OF POOR COCK ROBIN.

Enter GERALD WHITE, FREDERICK BROOK and CHARLES CROWTHER. They are gentlemen and stand apart from the working men. They do not belong.

Enter VERA BARKER – from behind the church – now wearing CASSIE’s blue double-breasted coat and holding the coil of taxidermy wire. VERA hides.

Enter CONNIE GIFFORD looking for her father (GIFFORD).

Ah, Connie. What can I tell you? Perhaps how, once our eyes are opened, it’s simple to see the world as it really is.

The chanting is louder as the procession approaches the church door.

Exit CROWTHER behind the church, following VERA.

CONNIE sees GIFFORD.

The single bell begins to toll for midnight.

Exit GIFFORD, as CASSIE flings open the door of the church. A mass of birds flies out, striking gravestones and umbrellas. The VILLAGERS panic and scatter as bigger birds swoop out and over the audience. Other birds are killed. It’s horrifying.

Exit WHITE and BROOK.

CASSIE hangs the four birds at the church door.

Hidden somewhere inside the memories you think you have lost, you remember. You remember me.

I will be judged harshly, Connie, women always are. They will call me mad. They will call me a liar. But don’t be afraid. I am watching over you.

Scene Two

The conservatory, Blackthorn House.

Thursday 25th April. Morning.

Enter CONNIE, holding a dead jackdaw. Self-contained and reserved, she loves her alcoholic father but is near breaking point.

There is a counter with taxidermy tools, a high stool, an armchair and a stuffed cock blackbird.

The sound of jackdaws cawing; a carriage clock strikes nine.

There’s only a short measure of taxidermy wire left, so she rings for the maid.

Enter MARY CHRISTIE, a cheerful and talkative local girl.

CONNIE. Ah, Mary. We had a new coil of wire delivered, have you seen it? There’s hardly any of this left.

MARY. When did you last have it?

CONNIE. I’m not sure.

MARY. Are you alright, miss? You’re as white as a sheet.

CONNIE. I… I didn’t sleep well. I had a mind it was on the back of the door.

MARY. Perhaps the master had the use of it.

CONNIE (evasive). No matter. This will do for now.

MARY peers at the dead bird.

It won’t hurt you.

MARY. Nasty birds, jackdaws. There’s a whole lot of them all lined up on the fence this morning.

CONNIE. I dare say they’ve come to pay their respects. He’ll require careful work.

MARY. Can you do it?

CONNIE (lying). Oh, I’m just preparing things for my father. Could you pass me the pail?

CONNIE adds a solution to the water. It stinks.

MARY. That’s awful! Oh, I’m sorry, miss.

CONNIE. It does take some getting used to. It’s an arsenical soap solution to sterilise the layer beneath the skin.

MARY. I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. Ma’s always telling me.

CONNIE. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. Come here, I’ll show you how Mr Gifford likes his tools laid out.

CONNIE passes tools to MARY.