Monday, December 09, 2024

Theatre: Metaphysical Humor

 Blithe Spirit by Noel Coward, directed by Allison Narver, Seattle Rep Through December 22

Despite the playwright's name, this is not a Christmas play, though it is the kind of play that fits well within the holiday season - light, frothy, traditional, safe. Something to take in as a break from cookie baking, or to take the out-of-town visitors to. And indeed, it felt like a full house was in attendance this past Sunday afternoon.

But as a play I found it frustrating, in the same way I found By the Skin of Our Teeth frustrating. It is classic theatre in the expected style, and parts of it are excellent, but it ultimately misfires for me.

Here's the skinny - Charles and Ruth Condomine (Arlando Smith and Gina Hammond), both on their second marriages after the deaths of their first spouses, throw a dinner party with the Bradmans (Sara Waisanen and Nate Tenenbaum). Charles is working on a new novel involving a fraudulent occultist, and to that end has invited a local medium, Madame Arcati (Anne Allgood), to hold seance. All the others are skeptical, even mocking, but Arcati proves to be the real deal, and summons the spirit of Charles' first wife, the ebullient Elvira (Kirsten Potter). Whackiness ensues.

But, like Skin of Our Teeth, it should work, but it doesn't. This is a venerable old warhorse of a play, long-running in London's West End, subject of numerous revivals and innumerable summer stock and school versions. It should burble with wit and verve, but instead most of the banter shouts along at a uniform volume level and speed, such that I'm worn out trying to keep up. The pacing feels off. The three main characters in this love triangle are not expected to be particularly likeable, but by the same token, none of them seem to deserve their ultimate fates. They're all shallow. A little callous, but not delightfully so. They all seem to be talking, but there is little actual conversation going on here.

Where the play succeeds in where the talking stops and the physical comedy takes over. Allgood as Madame Arcati is a wondrously comic medium, a loose-limbed crane as she works her spells and flings herself bodily into trances. And Sophie Kelly-Hedrick as the maid, Edith steals every scene she is in as a Monty-Python-Gumby-turned-servant. The stagecraft is top-notch in the Rep tradition, and fits particularly well for the physical comedy. And the Lovely Bride has informed me that the gowns were excellent. 

But ultimately, it misfires. Maybe the old plays I enjoyed have grown long in the tooth. Maybe it's just the modern approach to them. But the end result is just OK - not great, not horrible, just fine but not worth a strong recommendation for the holiday season. But just sort of indifferent. Truly blithe.

More later. 


Thursday, December 05, 2024

The Big Pile of Books: Plane Books

A Right To Die by Rex Stout. Bantam Books, originally published in 1964. 
Too Many Clients by Rex Stout, Bantam Books, originally published in 1960
And Four To Go By Rex Stout, Bantam Books, originally published in 1958
Fade to Black by Robert Goldsborough, Bantam Books, originally published in 1990
The High Window by Raymond Chandler, Vintage Crime originally published in 1942
Pickup on Noon Street by Raymond Chandler, Ballantine Books, originally published in 1952
Playback by Raymond Chandler, Ballantine Books, originally published in 1958
The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie, Arcturus Books, originally published in 1920 

So I've been doing a lot of air travel this year, and when I travel, I bring along paperback mysteries. They are small, portable, you don't have to turn them off when landing or worry if the batteries are low. I usually get them at used bookstores, so if you lose them, you're out a few bucks.

And there's something I've noticed that I haven't seen anyone else comment about - the demise of the mass market paperback. I've been in a couple big chains, and the stubby pocket-sized mass-market paperback has been almost completely replaced with the larger-size trade paperback. The only mass-markets I'm finding (even in grocery stores, is the aisle next to the greeting cards) are by established authors and part of larger series that have been running in that format for years. Even a couple of the entries here are trade-sized reprints, purchased while on the road. Is this change-over really a thing? Are we losing the traditional mass market paperback of our youths?

Anyway.

These mass-market mysteries are also relatively short, unlike the doorstop fantasy books of the last several decades. That works out as well, since I can finish a book in one hop from Seattle to Milwaukee, or a round-trip to LA. 

I still tend to favor Nero Wolfe mysteries, if you haven't noticed, but I am getting towards the end of the Rex Stout canon, and have actually bought the same book twice under different covers because I was unsure if I have read it or not. I've even engaged with Stout's estate-approved successor. So I'm doing a bit more experimentation, this time with some Raymond Chandler I had never encountered before, and dabbling with Agatha Christie. 

Anyway, here are some recent additions

A Right To Die - Usually, Wolfe's world exists in a 7-year bubble. When we first meet Archie and Nero in the 30's, they've been together about 7 years. In the fifties, they've been together about 7 years. But now we are in the 60's and suddenly we get a direct call-back to an episode in the 30's. Back in 1938, Wolfe cracks the case in Too Many Cooks by appealing to the better nature of a group of African-American waiters. Now, one of those former waiters shows up at his door, quoting the speech that Wolfe had made that night. His problem is that his son is engaged to a white girl, and he wants to find out what's wrong with her. And then, of course, the white girl turns up dead. I mentioned that Wolfe's world is predominately white, but this is one of the times that Stout touches on racism.

Too Many Clients - This is Stout's sex mystery (amusing since the back cover of the paperback edition has a promotion for Everything You Wanted to Know About Sex* (But were afraid to ask). Much as A Right To Die delved into race relations, Too Many Clients deals with a high-level exec maintaining a sex-den in Spanish Harlem, where he um, entertains young women. When the exec turns up dead, Wolfe starts gaining client after client who wants to know who did it (and confirm that it wasn't them). The sex is polite, gentile, and mainly confined to the erotic art on the sex-den's walls. And since Archie Goodwin, our narrator, is a gentlemen, it doesn't get much further than a passing glance. Very much of its age.

And Four To Go - This is collection of Stout's shorter works, which originally saw print in glossy magazines like Look and The Saturday Evening Post (both long-gone as regular periodicals). This collection deals with a murders set around the holidays - A Christmas Party poisoning, an Easter parade shooting, a Fourth of July picnic stabbing. Each with a host of suspects and motives and a solid reason for the relatively inert Nero to get involved. Also was a fourth story that was an alternate version of a story that appeared elsewhere, with only the age of a female character changed. Interesting and a pity that such few avenues for this type of fiction now exist.

Fade to Black - Robert Goldsborough is the appointed heir (by Stout's estate) to carry on the stories of Nero and Archie. And it's all right - I can't really fault it. All the pieces are there - the brownstone, the orchids, the gourmet meals, the dicey relationship with the cops. But is does feel a little off, oddly because Stout's stories were always in the moment when they were written. Wolfe is always reading some recently-published volume, and the New York of the era is drivable. Fade to Black hews to that rule as well, but it feels weird once we get into later decades. The first line is "The whole business started at Lilly Rowan's Superbowl party", which just feels odd to me. The mystery involves dueling add agencies and stolen ideas, and there is a body, of course. It's not bad, but we are looking at a different place and time.

(As an addition, this volume was publishing in 1990, and the evolution of the mass-market paperback is clear from the earlier books of the 60's. It is a mass-market, but the margins are wider, and the leading (the white space between the lines) is larger. The book itself has more pages and is thicker, though I doubt there are more words. Paper in this later era was apparently cheaper, allowing the book to swell and take up more space on the bookshelf).

The High Window - This was purchased in Missoula Montana at Shakespeare's, a bookstore across the river from the hotel where MisCon was being help. I had finished Murder at the ABA and wanted to get a book for the return trip. I had read most of the "big" Raymond Chandler (The Little Sister, The Big Sleep, The Long Goodbye), and wanted to dig into the ones I had not heard of before (or had not been turned into movies). In The High Window, Phillip Marlowe is hired by an upper-class client to recover a rare coin. . Almost immediately hoods start leaning on him and dead bodies start piling up. Two things stay with me as I read through these - one is how Chandler managed to turn LA into a character, an impressive thing for a town that legendarily has "no there there". Chandler here is dealing with the upper crust and the roots they've set down in the more sordid parts of LA

(And by the way, this the trade version of the book, reprinted in the 1992, and can be compared against the earlier mass markets. Thinner, taller, but also wider margins and leading. And a higher price tag, even taking into account inflation). 

Playback -  One other theme that haunts Chandler's pages is broken women - those who have been traumatized as a foundation for their actions. You notice it after reading a few of them. In The High Window it was timid secretary Merle Davis. In The Long Goodbye it was Linda Loring. In this case it is Betty Manning (with a host of other names) who is on the run to California. Detective Phil Marlowe is hired to shadow her, then switches sides and becomes her defender in a cluster of lies and betrayals. The part of LA that Chandler defines here is Enclave Culture - those wealthy colonies along the coast where the old money retires, the young money wants to be included, and the help staff can't afford to live within the town boundaries. That part is the most interesting feature, along with Marlowe's internal monologues.

Pickup on Noon Street - This is a collection of shorts originally written for pulps like Black Mask. There's no Marlowe here, but rather characters named Dalmas and Carmady, both of which have their own internal code that Chandler relies on. LA is here as well, but seedier, seamier sides, which means a lot of hoods and guns, troubled women, and bodies on the floor. I picked up the book at Half-Price, and it came with its own little mystery - a polaroid used as a bookmark of what could be a shoreline or a distant mountain range in the distance, with a non-descript skyscraper along one side. 

The Mysterious Affair at Styles - The first Agatha Christie novel, and the first Poirot, this feels like a bloodless affair in the wake of Chandlers continual callousness and Stout's colorful domesticity. It is the classic Manor Mystery where the suspects are all in the house the night of the murder and everyone has a motive somewhere along the line. Christie wanted to write a mystery where she plays fair, and gives all the clues needed to solve the puzzle, but the passage of a hundred years made this reader sail past the pertinent clue in identifying the murderer. Yet it has a clockwork logic to it and a very British reserve that contrasts with the other books described in this post. The character with the most personality is narrator Hastings - Poirot's expository sidekick in the style of Doctor Watson and Archie Goodwin - who falls for one of the suspects. This particular edition was another trade paperback, nicely presented and large-formatted. 

And that's it for the Plane Books of 1924. The thing that strikes me in this mystery reading is the frame holding the mystery is sometimes more engaging that the mystery itself. Dorothy Sayers has a very political in her writing. Stout (and his successor) takes New York City and turns it into a cozy place for the occasional killing. Chandler reveals the LA outside his window, and Christie gives a tour of the upstairs/downstairs life in the interwar years. The books are centered on the mystery, but what makes them successful is what they're really about.

And I'm looking at stocking up for next year's trips. There will be fewer of them, but they will still be there.

More later.