Once upon a time, O my best beloved, when the jungle was so primitive that not one animal had an iPhone, Ms Alison did one thing at a time, and that thing was mostly poems. But the gods of boredom, or the current economic imperative, or fatal curiosity, have meant that over the years Ms Alison has divided and multiplied in an amoebic fashion into all sorts of different Mss. This has all been great fun, and most deeply interesting, but it does result in periods of deeply uninteresting strife, when all the different Alisons start fighting among each other, and the Boss Alison can't get any of them to shut up and behave themselves.
|Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word: L-R, James Henry, Christopher Green as Tina C, Auriel Andrew|
The only answer to such a situation is to start doing something else. (Obviously.) So, in a sudden clarifying blaze of financial panic, I began another novel. In her transcendent wisdom, Boss Alison also accepted an invitation from Overland Literary Journal to review poetry regularly for their blog. My first review, of UK poet Sean Bonney's collection Happiness: Poems After Rimbaud, was uploaded yesterday. Meanwhile, an offering from another Alison, an extract from the libretto for the opera Mayakovsky, is in the Autumn issue, which has just been published. You should all subscribe: not because I'm in it, but because of everything else that is.
Meanwhile, Ms TN, the Alison who attends to this blog, has found herself severely behind her own schedule. So she begs, as she emerges in a disheveled fashion from the recent scuffle holding a steak to her eye, that you excuse her brevity. She hopes she will not be forced too often to short notices, but what with one thing and all the others, that is how it is at present. Herewith is a brief record of the past fortnight's theatre attendances. I can't find a through line: these are all completely disparate experiences.
Last night I went to see Tina C: Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word at the Malthouse. Country star Tina C is the invention of British theatre maker Christopher Green, and she brings an excoriating experience of cultural imperialism to her hapless audiences. Just as the intrepid explorers "discovered" Australia and scrawled their own names over the map, ignoring the perfectly good names that had been used for thousands of years, Tina C offers us an Australia redrawn through the naive gaze of a celebrity outsider.