Babel

Category: Essay

Essay

  • Harlequin and the PIP Ep. 3: Christmastime in London

    Harry Furniss aged 26, at about the time he st...
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    Because Christmas is basically a domestic celebration, the home is given much credit even in such public spaces as the theatre. In 1883, the Topsyturvey pantomime is called The Fairy of Home showing “how many a British home is cheered by the light-hearted daughter of the house!” (issue 1174, 22 Dec. 1883, p. 404). Harry Furniss first plays this merry domestic woman, and then magically turns into a College lecturer, inventing a “Vice-Versa.” Paterfamilias is given the responsibility to save Christmas boxes, all in all “an acceptable relief to the general monotony of domestic hearth” (issue 1174, 22 Dec. 1883, p. 404). This colourful atmosphere can also be taken home “through the medium of a lively Charade or a jovial game of ‘Dumb Crambo’” (issue 1174, 22 Dec. 1883, p. 404).

    At least one time a year, balls are not only reserved to the adults. Christmas balls have versions especially dedicated to children. For these “Juvenile Fancy-Dress Balls,” children are encouraged to dress in historical costumes – even though mythological decent versions are also sometimes seen. In the 1880s, these dazzling, happy and enthusiastic “merry-meetings of little ones” (issue 1174, 22 Dec. 1883, p. 404) are already a constantly growing tradition. Certainly, the costumes are not only historical, mothers would go at great lengths to create attires that are as remarkable as possible, and thus making their children stand out from the crowd. These balls are a great occasion for carnivalesque colours and laughter to meet in a controlled environment:

    The tiny pride with which each fancy garment is worn; the unrestrained pleasure with which quadrilles, polkas and waltzes are danced; the rapid displacing of shyness by confidence; the delight with which Tom Smith’s Costume bonbons are greeted at a super calculated to make Master Dick Bultitude’s mouth water; and the sustained freshness of the little people throughout, are certain to amply repay each well-to-do host and hostess for each entertainment of this kind they may provide this Christmas. (issue 1174, 22 Dec. 1883, p. 404)

    Going to the first pantomime of the season is certainly a ritual in which all the family, servants and even pets participate religiously. In this way Mrs. Jonathan Jones (fig. ) and her family are shown leaving home, struggling into the cab, as “Napoleon crossing the Alps” (Going to the Pantomime, issue 65, 3 Jan. 1863, p. 4), on their road to a performance that will make children laugh from their hearts and the adults smile quietly enjoying this sight, of course, at the theatre, after all the fuss over getting to the panto is over:

    Behind, on the paternal arm; hangs Miss Betsy, who is all smiles and dimples, and clogs like Miss Pyne. On the other side, Miss Julie takes her father’s arm: she slogs unlike Grid, but dogs not think so. The juvenile beside his mother is Mister Bob, and appears to be imitating Mr. Weal, the new Clown. The small boy with the big hat, and the peculiar bincole – certainly not marked by the name of Voigtlander, the king of the opera glasses – in Master Harry, mild sad, meek – the lamb to his brother’s lions; while the gay deceiver, who, with his hand on his heart and his toes turned in – the original manner, by-the-way, in which mankind walked – and who is pouring love-sweets into the little ears of gentle Fanny, is a smatchet, from a neighbouring house, one Tommy. (Going to the Pantomime, issue 65, 3 Jan. 1863, p. 4)

    Not only the parents and children fussed about. The servants – here the “two smiling nurses – one with the baby,” seem to be excited about going to the show as well, “as though they were going themselves” (Going to the Pantomime, issue 65, 3 Jan. 1863, p. 4). In any case, not everybody was happy about what was going on, like the very shy doctor’s boy “with an innate disgust of his unsavoury cargo,” but, thinking of what’s to come, he “has bright visions of the Clown, and is thinking of throwing his basket over an area and striking on to the cab behind” (Going to the Pantomime, issue 65, 3 Jan. 1863, p. 4), without much success, however. One could also see a very grip Jeames, while a bit of the cabman is also visible to show how liberal Mr. Jones is:

    And the upper portion of a cabman’s body, with his whip, has been introduced, indicating with singular clearness the liberality of Mr. Jones in taking two cabs. The children follow in the second chariot, with the guardian Jeames, “who has been in the family wellnigh seventeen years.” (Going to the Pantomime, issue 65, 3 Jan. 1863, p. 4)

    Tradition is what drives Christmas rituals and activities. Christmas performances, masques, all performed in the “old English style” (issue 693-4, 19 Dec. 1874, p. 402). And what can be more impressive than a glittering Christmas performance created especially for aristocratic audiences. Performances like the Lord Mayor Stone’s Christmas masque played for Charles II in Mansion House’s Egyptian Hall on Christmas Eve. The act has well risen to the quality expected for such a lustrous audience:

    Whilst Dan o red Godfrey’s band discoursed sweet music, reviving for the occasion the most tuneful of old English airs, the King and Queen of the City, seated in state on their throne at the east end of the hall, and attended by the Sheriffs and Court of Alderman and a brilliant court of ladies, might well receive Old Father Christmas in the welcome shape shown in our Illustrations. Who would represent the jovial and merry genius of the gladsome festive season better than the gallant City knight, whose genial, rubicund face, and white curly hair and free-and-easy manners are so familiar to the London public, of which he is so great a favourite? (issue 693-4, 19 Dec. 1874, p. 402)

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  • Harlequin and the PIP Ep. 2: Preparing for Christmas

    A Christmas card from 1870
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    Evidently, pantomimes did not just happen. Hundreds of people were involved in the preparations (actors, costume designers, stage technicians, casting, etc.), propagation of the news and other such activities now catalogued as PR. Fairies would not put their wings by the slap of Harlequin’s wand. It is actually “rubbing the gilt off our gingerbread with a vengeance” (issue 784, 25 Dec. 1875). Just imagine you are a Victorian child and have already celebrated Christmas with your family, perhaps Father Christmas or his friends even brought you presents. You are anxiously waiting for the Pantomime. What if you could sneak in the theatres – on Christmas Day, let’s say – what would you see?

    The PIP illustration-reporter, this time Mr. Friston with his “cunning pencil” (issue 784, 25 Dec. 1875), always on the job, and always on the right place took a sneak preview at a pantomime dress rehearsal at the Theatre Royal Dazzle (fig. ). Seemingly, the whole pre-performance period is quite an anxious one, especially for all the cast and crew, now busy with the final retouches:

    It is clearly an anxious time for all – anxious for the Queen Fairy (Miss Sugarplum) and her attendant sylphs, though they do take matters so coolly; anxious for Billy Button, engaged from the provinces and desirous to make a hit as Prince Folderol; anxious for the young scene painter waiting to see whether the drop-scene on which he has lavished all his skill will make his fame; anxious for clown and pantaloon, harlequin and columbine; anxious for the unobtrusive author; anxious, very anxious, for the stage-manager; most anxious of all for the lessee, who has risked his thousands of the venture, sparing no expense, no pains to make his pantomime worthy a triumphant success. Action is moderate: airs and graces are reserved for Boxing Night. Dialogue is mumbled. Mr. Prompter only requires them to be word-perfect in their parts.

    […]When the clown rushes on with a quiet “Here we are again!” and there is only dead silence to greet the facetious one, your Playgoer finds it is high time to be going, for it would never do to detract from the novelty of the “comic business” by describing, however briefly, the deliberate rehearsal of those practical and apparently impromptu jokes which are to set the house in a roar next Monday night. (issue 784, 25 Dec. 1875)

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  • Harlequin and the PIP Ep. 1: What Is So Special About Christmas?

    A mother plays the guitar while her two daught...
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    NOTE: I’ll start a little “series” containing texts about Christmas pantomime as seen in the Penny Illustrated Paper‘s pages during the XIXth century. Enjoy!

    What exactly can be described as Christmassy? According to the Penny Illustrated Paper, the idea, as it should truly be defined, is “the festivity which Sir John Gilbert represents in our extra Christmas Supplement with all the rich pictorial effect and historical exactitude for which he is famous” (A Christmas Pantomime before Charles II, issue 693-4, 19 Dec. 1874, p. 402). Christmas, an old religious tradition with Germanic additions such as Father Christmas or the tradition of decorating the Christmas tree, meant a lot for the Victorian Londoners.
    In rich circles – especially in noble families – celebrations would be mostly domestic and – during and after Boxing-Day – charity would be the key activity, especially for ladies. The poor, however, celebrated with the little they had, and most likely received the charity from the above mentioned. Middle-classes, of course, found themselves in-between and most of the time, tried to emulate the rich. Children loved Christmas, especially for the presents and entertainment programs created especially for them. Parents and guardians enjoyed the fact that these little future adults could get education through pleasure.
    There is no wonder that a Christmas without snow, is like a pantomime without the Transformation Scene. If there is “seasonable weather,” such as in 1869’s Boxing Day, and with just enough snow (not too much, but not too little) to feel that Christmas is around most people are content. On the other hand, going out is not exactly the brightest idea, in fact the weather could turn out sharp enough to make “a brisk walk most exhilarating” (issue 431, 1 Jan. 1870, p. 10), while bicycles and velocipedes seem to provide a better means of transportation.
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  • What Makes Us Who We Are?

    Cover of I'm An Individual
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    Nowadays we are taught that people should only be seen as individuals and each individual should be respected as an unique human being.  We are not members of a group, we are not part of a family, each and every one of us is standing alone in front of an absurd universe (I guess Existentialism is not as obsolete in our present world as some people would like to think it is). Well, of course, we won’t admit we are alone! We will never admit the fact that we are facing an identity crisis that spreads its claws further and deeper in and on our beloved planet as we are advised to shed any type of membership to a group, community or culture.

    Are we really standing alone -with a base code from the factory and no heart-to-heart connections with the world? Is it really true that I made myself what I am now? I couldn’t disagree more! I am what I am because of the experiences I’ve lived and lessons I have learnt throughout my life. I am what I am because I was born in a certain country, in a certain region, in a certain community, in a certain family. I am myself because of the help I was given. I am myself because of the obstacles I had to overcome or go round. I am myself because of all the respect, love, hate, spite I was shown. I am what I am because of all the people I’ve entered in contact with, especially those who tried to cut down my wings. Thank you, you’ve made me stronger!

    Yes, we’d like to think that a life without any negative experiences, filled with rainbows, butterflies and glowing unicorns would be Heaven. But… think about this … how do you learn, how do you gain strength if everybody treats you with gloves and your road is smooth, without detours and unexpected complications. Wouldn’t that be a tad boring? Why do you want to deny and forsake everything that’s actually beautiful about life? You know, someone said that life’s a game … sorry, I got a little carried away – but remember that it’s not important that you get to your destination, what really matters is the road, how you get there and who you get there with and be proud of your progress and accomplishments, not on winning the great prize (what is the great prize anyway?). Don’t be a stranger!

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  • The Man vs. The Poet

    Adrian Păunescu - 06.July.2009 / 14:39:48
    Image by Foto Ciumpy 1923 via Flickr

    Adrian Paunescu is one of the most controversial personalities from (post-) Communist Romania.  For the older generation (I mean those who were in their teens/twenties – even thirties or more in the 1970s and 1980s) he was the local version of a pop star. He could gather thousands of people (without ANY sort of PR), stir up their emotions. Paunescu was able to write -beautiful – poems any time, most of the times he wrote during the shows.

    For us, those who were born after the Cenaclul Flacara disappeared, Adrian Paunescu was mostly another nationalist politician with leftist sympaties we laughed of. Most people call him names or worse – he was even added in the Communism Black Book for the fact that he wrote poems glorifying Ceausescu. And he did, yes, he did, and he even admitted he did, he admitted being a pig. The interesting thing about him – he was a nationalist, everybody in Romania knows that – when picking people to participate to his poetry and song circle he did not care where you came from, if you were talented, you were in. He appreciated value, and that is a plus. He did what he did, but what I cannot deny is the charisma and power to move masses – I know I couldn’t do that!

    I did not know him, at least not like that and I didn’t give a damn about him – I admit – until I saw footage from the many meetings with the Cenaclul Flacara and I was more than impressed. I would be a hypocrite if I’d start crying and calling him my master, but I’m willing to learn, at least now that he’s gone. And no, I’m not a communist (though I share some of the ideals, like I also share liberal, democrat or religious ideals), I don’t consider myself having a political colour or another, but when I appreciate a man and a woman, I do so based on the effect (s)he has on my heart and mind. And yes, wathing those videos made me sad – sad for not being there and especially sad for not knowing. Rest in peace, may God forgive your errors and reward your good deeds.

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