Thursday

Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia (2011)


Cover & Book design: William T. Ayton



(May 19) Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Text by Jack Ross / Artwork by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8. Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press / Auckland: Perdrix Press, 2011. 24 ink drawings. 44 pp.
    Prologue (2008-11)

    I – Iphigenia, or Happy Families

  1. Chorus 1 - Cursed with prophecy (15-19/4/08)
    2. Scene 1 (a): The Palace at Mycenae (2008-11)
  2. Chorus 2 - I ran through the wood (19/4/08)
    3. Scene 1 (b): The Palace (cont.)
  3. Chorus 3 - Little girl lost (1/4/06-19/4/08)

    4. II – Cassandra, or Payback is a Bitch

  4. Chorus 4 - Joy lives with those (19-25/4/08)
    5. Scene 2 (a): The Palace at Mycenae (2008-10)
  5. Chorus 5 - Cursed with second sight (19/4/08)
    6. Scene 2 (b): The Palace (cont.)
  6. Chorus 6 - See how Apollo (22/4/08)

    7. III – Orestes, or Never say Never

  7. Chorus 7 - The labour pains (22/4/08)
    8. Scene 3 (a): The Seashore at Tauris (2008-11)
  8. Chorus 8 - There she goes (19-25/4/08)
    9. Scene 3 (b): The Seashore (cont.)
  9. Chorus 9 - Drops of holy water (30/4-12/5/08)

    10. Epilogue (2008-11)

  10. Chorus 10 - Noise is like flame (29-30/4/08)



For my mother and father



•

Jack Ross: Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia (2011)


Blurb:
What would happen if two children decided to put on the Ancient Greek Oresteia in their own puppet theatre? With their (recently divorced) parents as characters? Casting themselves as Iphigeneia, sacrificed by her father for a favourable wind, and Orestes, the murderer of his mother? What kind of bloodbath might come out of that?

This modern retelling of the classic trilogy in words and pictures is a collaboration between New Zealand poet Jack Ross and US-based British artist William T. Ayton.

A Narcissus Press / Perdrix Press co-production





Mummy gave me a camera for my birthday. She said it was a present 
from her & Uncle Al, but I don’t know. I don’t think he even notices 
that I’m around. It’s not that he’s nasty to us or anything, it’s 
just like he doesn’t really understand how to talk to anyone who isn’t 
a grown-up like him. He tried helping me with my homework once, but I 
couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was talking about when he 
started explaining Maths to me.

Anyway, I’ve been using it to take shots of my puppet theatre. I made 
the sets out of pictures from a magazine and hung them from strings 
on top of the winebox. I guess it’s kind of kid stuff, but it’s fun 
to do, & I can always say that I’m just doing it to keep Rusty quiet. 
Actually the truth is I don’t think he’d bother with it at all if it 
weren’t for me … I keep on telling him that there are going to be lots 
of gruesome bits with people killing each other (but I haven’t told 
him that most of that is going to happen backstage).

It’s super-hard to get puppets to kill each other, anyway. They’re not 
really bendy enough.

I just wish I could get Rusty to read the story in that book of Greek 
Myths I got for Christmas last year. That was what gave me the idea 
in the first place. The only thing he wants to read is comics – I keep 
on telling him what a great comic it would make.

But he is getting really good at playing Agamemnon. He does him a bit 
like Daddy. That big pompous voice telling people off all the time. 
He asked me if he thought Daddy or Candy will be angry. Only if they 
bother to turn up to the party at all, I said. & she doesn’t speak 
enough English to know the difference.

I’ve been reading out all the Cassandra bits kind of like her, so I 
hope that’s true. She seems kind of sweet. I just wish she wasn’t so 
close to my age


(2008-11)

Publications:



•

I

Iphigenia

or, Happy Families



Bedroom at Mycenae (morning)
Image & design by Bronwyn Lloyd


That’s the bed in front, and the Jacuzzi in there behind.



•




Cassandra:    Cursed with prophecy
              I’m forced to see
              what’s past & what’s to come

              No-one ever listens, though
              A father fucks
              his stepdaughter

              then gets cold feet
              What if she talks?
              He listens to his PR man

              & plots to kill her
              If news leaks out
              then contracts

              could be compromised
              The trouble is
              she’s not his daughter

              but she is his wife’s
              Not her sister’s
              her
              
              by-blow


(15-19/4/08)

Publications:



•




The Palace at Mycenae [morning]
A bedroom off the garden

Laughter is heard outside the open window. Two children come 
rushing in. One, a slim, dark-haired, attractive girl on the verge 
of womanhood, is aged about fourteen; the other, a much younger 
boy, is about ten.

Gene:	You’re getting really fast! You’ll be beating me soon.
Rusty:	I’m faster than you already. You cheated! You know you did.
Gene:	Cutting the corner by the roses isn’t cheating …
Rusty:	What is it, then?
Gene:	Taking an intelligent advantage, I’d call it.
Rusty:	But Daddy told us we should never …
Gene:	What? Interfere with the sightlines? Run past the 
        tripwires? Who’s going to try and break in here, anyway? 
        Hardly anyone I know even wants to visit us ...
Rusty:	They are dangerous. Nana told me …
Gene:	Nana told me this, Daddy told me that … You spend 
        way too much time listening to people, Rusty. 
        Make up your own mind.
Rusty:	Is that what you’re doing – making up your own mind?
Gene:	No … At least, not exactly … It’s hard to explain.
Rusty:	Don’t you like us anymore? Me and Mummy and the baby?
Gene:	It was her idea in the first place …
Rusty:	Whose? Mummy’s d’you mean?
Gene:	Your mother – not mine.
Rusty:	What d’you mean? You’re my big sister.
Gene:	Of course I’m your big sister, silly. In every way 
        that counts, that is … It’s just – I told you it was 
        hard to explain. Let’s just forget it.
Rusty:	No, you can’t stop now. What did you mean about 
        saying that Mummy wasn’t your mother?
Gene:	Well, she isn’t. It’s true that she and your 
        father have raised me as if I were theirs, but it’s 
        not the same thing. You must have worked that out yourself. 
        Look at the way they treat you and Ellie, and then the way 
        they treat me.
Rusty:	How do you mean? You’re the eldest. They’re always 
        going on about how responsible you are and everything … 


(2008-11)

Publications:
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 8.



•




Cassandra:    I ran through the wood
              scenting 
              new blood

              eager to see
              our army
              tanks & planes

              & ships & guns 
              Their job’s
              to bring her back

              ‘that fucking terrorist’
              as Daddy calls her
              who’s run off

              with a man
              again
              Uncle Cal’s

              in charge of cashflow
              Colonel Killer
              calls

              the shots


(19/4/08)

Publications:

Notes:
  • Adapted from Euripides, Iphigenia at Aulis: ll. 175-95.



•




Gene:	The nursemaid, you mean. The unpaid servant. The one who folds 
        the clothes and combs your mother’s hair and has to put up with 
        your Uncle Calchas playing grabby-feely …
Rusty:	You mean they’re mean to you?
Gene:	Oh, well, as to that, I guess they’re mean to everyone. Don’t think 
        I don’t know why you’re limping today, and why you lost the race. 
        He whipped you again, didn’t he?
Rusty:	It’s for my own good! He says so, anyway.
Gene:	Yeah, just like it was for my own good all those years he used 
        to put me over his knee …
Rusty:	What do you mean?
Gene:	Well. How do I explain it to you? Your mother thinks your father might 
        be getting a bit too interested in me.
Rusty:	But you’re his daughter! That would be …
Gene:	Don’t you get it? That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m not his daughter. 
        They raised me as if I were, but my real mother is Mummy’s sister. Your 
        Auntie Helen. You know. The one they try not to talk about in front of us …
Rusty:	Oh, Gene, don’t go!
Gene:	I’m sorry, I really can’t help it. I wish I could. It was your uncle who 
        set it up. They say he’s really brave, the guy I’m going away with. Quite 
        a war hero. Handsome, too. Calchas says all the other girls are going 
        to be jealous. He’ll take me away in his convertible and we’ll stay in 
        a hotel and order room-service every day.
Rusty:	Can I come and live with you, when you’re in the hotel?
Gene:	Of course you can. If my boyfriend doesn’t mind, that is. Though they say 
        there’s another war coming. Maybe we won’t be together all that long.
Rusty:	I don’t want you to go!
Gene:	I know, I don’t want to either, but …
Rusty:	I won’t let you go! I won’t! I’m going to tell Mummy and Daddy not to let 
        you go … I’m going to tell on you … [runs out]
Gene:	[suddenly frightened, following him] NO. Please don’t, Rusty. Don’t say 
        anything about what I just told you …


(2008-11)

Publications:
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 12.



•




Cassandra:    Little girl lost
              you are all hard
              the sound of broken glass

              jangling inside
              You cry foul
              you cry woe

              torrid & disdainful words
              Pain is your friend
              your comforter

              the place that you call home
              Tell us the whispers
              haunting you

              Control & manipulation
              are your Mummy
              your Daddy

              turmoil
              embroiled emotions
              & masses

              of glass


(1/4/06-19/4/08)

Publications:

Notes:
  • Sampled from Angela Smith’s poems, “Sylvia, Poet – Sweet Sylvia” & “A Young Boy Sleeps” (2006).



•

II

Cassandra

or, Payback is a Bitch



Bedroom at Mycenae (night)
Image & design by Bronwyn Lloyd

Clytemnestra killing Cassandra


You can see she’s pretty serious about it, can’t you? 
Reminds me of Mum threatening to rip Daddy’s lungs out 
when she first found out he was cheating on her. 
Things are a bit better now, though, I guess. 
At least we can all sit down & have a barbecue together

Even if it is going to be followed by a puppet show …



•




Cassandra:    Joy lives with those
              who share their beds
              with Aphrodite

              not those who frolic
              with her fucked-up
              offspring

              Eros
              prone to pop a cap
              in the best-regulated

              arse
              at the drop of a
              you-know-what

              Helen
              for example
              white-throated

              Maenad
              who left her
              little girl

              to bleed for us


(19-25/4/08)

Publications:

Notes:
  • Adapted from Euripides, Iphigenia at Aulis: ll. 547-95.



•




The Palace at Mycenae [night]
In front of the Jacuzzi

Mummy:	    That little bitch screamed like a stuck pig. Some 
            prophetess she was! She ran like a rabbit and fought 
            like a mountain lion.
Uncle Al:   Did you kill her?
Mummy:	    Of course I killed her. Unless you know of any way of 
            surviving having your throat slit from ear to ear, that is?
Uncle Al:   Har de-har har. Very funny.
Mummy:	    So much blood!
Uncle Al:   Well, what did you expect? Did you think they’d just slip 
            gracefully out of the picture, leaving a sigh and a faint 
            odour of roses?
Mummy:	    No, but … fuck, what a mess!
Uncle Al:   You were going to say it’ll take a while to clean up, 
            weren’t you?
Mummy:	    Why would that be such a stupid thing to say? I mean, 
            you don’t have to wash the clothes – or the floors, 
            for that matter.
Uncle Al:   Neither do you.
Mummy:	    I have to oversee the women who do, give them orders.
Uncle Al:   Do you want to call them in now? Get them to work?
Mummy:	    Why are you being like this, acting like such a prick?
Uncle Al:   Maybe I don’t like murdering people in cold blood …
Mummy:	    D’you think I enjoyed stabbing my own husband, the 
            father of my children?
Uncle Al:   Well, yes. I think you did. If you could have seen 
            your eyes at that moment!
Mummy:	    At least I showed some gumption! I don’t seem to recall 
            you giving the word.
Uncle Al:   I did my share.
Mummy:	    Your share, yes, but a woman had to go before you.
Uncle Al:   Are you a woman?
Mummy:	    That’s not what you said last night in bed …


[Rusty comes in]

            What’s the matter, cat got your tongue? You’re quite 
            an athlete with that, too, aren’t you? I mean, we’re in 
            this thing together, aren’t we? What’s the point of … 
            What are you pointing at? Oh.
            This isn’t how it looks, you know …  


(2008-10)

Publications:
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 20.



•




Cassandra:    Cursed with second sight
              I must recite
              what’s coming

              for us both
              your death    my death
              the Asian chick

              you’ve brought back
              from abroad
              the cookie-cutter

              candy-sweet
              you’re counting on
              for love

              Why can’t you see
              it isn’t me
              you need?

              Nor is it only
              me
              who wants you

              dead


(19/4/08)

Publications:



•




Mummy:	    I mean, he had your own sister killed – gave the order … 
            I know it was ten years ago, but I haven’t forgotten … 
            Of course you were just a child, but you must remember. 
            The two of you were as thick as thieves, running around 
            all day together, we began to think that we might have to 
            marry her off before … No, of course it was nothing bad. 
            It was all quite innocent between you, I’m sure.
            Don’t look at me like that!
Uncle Al:   Now son, this would be a good time to listen to your mother. 
            She’s had a lot to put up with, and while I know you’re not 
            exactly pleased to see me taking your father’s place, you 
            must see the inevitability of it. I mean, from an economic 
            point of view alone …
Rusty:	    And her?
Mummy:	    Her? Oh. you mean his little Asian ho – Cassandra, Candy, 
            was it? You could hardly expect me to put up with that in 
            my own house!
Rusty:	    Did you have to kill her?
Mummy:	    Have to? No, I suppose not. But it was bound to happen sooner 
            or later, you know. I did her a favour, really. She didn’t look 
            cut out to make a good slave. One good gang-bang from the boys 
            out back, and she’d have been walking wounded. A few floggings 
            and they’d have let her drop and die on the shopfloor. This way 
            it was quick and clean at least.
Rusty:	    Just like it was for my father?
Uncle Al:   I know you’re angry, I understand that. Maybe you’ve got some 
            crazy ideas right now – revenge, that sort of thing. But your 
            mother and I aren’t going anywhere. That’s what you have to 
            remember. You’re the heir to the family business. That is, unless … 
Mummy:	    Shut up, you fool! You’ll be the next king, the boss of bosses, 
            my son, I promise you. Don’t listen to that fat slob … he might 
            have his own ambitions, but I’m the one calling the shots … 
            D’you think all this was his idea? He’s expendable. You’re not …
Uncle Al:   Now steady on …
Mummy:	    Shut up, you cretin! Can’t you see he’s got a machete?
Uncle Al:   A machete?


[Rusty kills Uncle Al]

Mummy:	    Now, my son, that’s enough now; don’t don’t don’t don’t …


[she runs from the room]


(2008-10)

Publications:
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 24.



•




 
Cassandra:    See how Apollo
              strips me
              rips my robes

              like my
              so-called friends
              at siege’s end

              blaming me
              for the burning towers
              their ruined homes

              but now at last
              he’s finished
              with me

              no altar here
              to cling to
              a chopping block

              instead
              slaughtered
              like a heifer

              Just you wait


(22/4/08)

Publications:
  • "The Puppet Oresteia". Papyri (2008). [available at: http://ovidius-naso.blogspot.com/2008/04/oresteia-chorus-6.html]
  • “from The Puppet Oresteia.” brief 39 (2010): 33-42.
  • “from The Puppet Oresteia.” The John Dory Report 24 (2010): [17]-[27].
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 26.

Notes:
  • Adapted from Aeschylus, Agamemnon: ll. 1265-80.



•

III

Orestes

or, Never Say Never



Seashore at Tauris
Image & design by Bronwyn Lloyd


Man, this is one seriously talky play! You wouldn’t believe 
how long it takes them to get with the programme and actually 
start carving each other up. The only way I could get Rusty 
to sit through rehearsals was to keep on promising him that 
they were going to break out the axes soon. I think he’s still 
worried that the parental units are going to close it all down 
when they hear us using the “f” word.

I hope he’s wrong. I’d really like them to listen to at least some of it …



•




Cassandra:    The labour pains
              of prophecy
              possess me

              once again
              See those creatures
              squatting on

              the house?
              Dark shapes
              like children

              murdered
              by their parents
              trading bites

              of their own
              flesh
              the tainted meal 

              your father tasted
              Revenge
              is on its way

              They’re after you


(22/4/08)

Publications:
  • "The Puppet Oresteia". Papyri (2008). [available at: http://ovidius-naso.blogspot.com/2008/04/oresteia-chorus-7.html]
  • “from The Puppet Oresteia.” brief 39 (2010): 33-42.
  • “from The Puppet Oresteia.” The John Dory Report 24 (2010): [17]-[27].
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 30.

Notes:
  • Adapted from Aeschylus, Agamemnon: ll. 1215-25.



•




The Seashore at Tauris [afternoon]
Inside the shrine

Gene:	[clears throat]
Rusty:	Who’s there?
Gene:	I’m a schoolteacher. From the local school. They asked me 
        to come and talk to you.
Rusty:	Why is it so dark in here?
Gene:	I can see you fine.
Rusty:	Then why can’t I see you?
Gene:	Not till you tell them what they want to know.
Rusty:	What’s that?
Gene:	Let’s start with your name and where you’ve come from.
Rusty:	Why should that matter to you?
Gene:	No sinister reasons. Just curiosity: news from home.
Rusty:	Is it the war you want to hear about?
Gene:	Yes, the war – and the soldiers.
Rusty:	The warzone has been pacified. You must have heard that.
Gene:	Of course. And the insurgents? 
Rusty:	Dead and scattered – the allies, too.
Gene:	When did this happen?
Rusty:	It’s taken years. More than ten years. Not all the leaders 
        got home intact. Some that did got a pretty warm welcome.
Gene:	Achilles?
Rusty:	Colonel Killer? Dead.
Gene:	And him … the boss of bosses, I mean?
Rusty:	You mean King Agamemnon? Dead, too.
Gene:	The Queen?
Rusty:	Also dead.
Gene:	How?
Rusty:	Murdered. A long time ago.
Gene:	Who by?
Rusty:	Her son.
Gene:	Rusty!


[turns on the light]


(2008-11)

Publications:
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 32.



•




Cassandra:    There she goes
              A simple girl
              like me

              to look at
              my city’s
              nemesis

              teeny-bopper
              dark hair
              ponytail

              A girl
              who wouldn’t stain
              the bedsheets

              of the thirsty
              goddess
              with her maiden

              blood
              Instead
              she snuck off

              here


(19-25/4/08)

Publications:

Notes:
  • Adapted from Euripides, Iphigenia at Aulis: ll. 1520-31.



•




Gene:	You still don’t recognise me.
Rusty:	I can see that you’ve got a bit of a look … of her, of 
        my sister.
Gene:	That’s who I am! I’m your sister …
Rusty:	Her ghost?
Gene:	No, I’m alive. Your sister, alive! They didn’t kill me. I 
        was smuggled out. We ended up here instead.
Rusty:	But – they all said they saw your body, your burnt body. 
        Mummy wept for three days straight. She never forgave him.
Gene:	It wasn’t me! It was someone else; another dead girl. 
        I don’t know who. I hope they didn’t kill anyone to cover 
        it up. I told you; they never touched me. I’ve been here 
        ever since.
Rusty:	Then you are … No, it can’t be. It’s just another dream, 
        another flashback, there’ve been so many …
Gene:	Why did you kill her, Rusty?
Rusty:	Don’t … don’t call me that.
Gene:	But I can save you!
Rusty:	It’s too late for me.
Gene:	I can see you’re strung out. What is it you’re on? Heroin? 
        P? I can get you out of here, into hospital: rehab, if you 
        need it.
Rusty:	Don’t pretend you can help. Don’t try to fool me.
Gene:	I’m your sister. Who else can you trust but me? 
Rusty:	I’m still the one who killed her.
Gene:	But not in cold blood. It was in the heat of the moment …
Rusty:	Even if that’s true, it doesn’t make it okay.
Gene:	I know that, Rusty. And that’s why Daddy’s house, his money 
        can never be yours. But why would you want them? You’ve seen 
        what that shit does to people, what it makes them into. Why 
        shouldn’t the two of us make a fresh start?
Rusty:	Where?
Gene:	That doesn’t matter. Leave that to me.
Rusty:	So what do I have to do?
Gene:	Just hold out your arm and let me give you what you need – what 
        you need for now, that is. Just enough to get us out of here …
        
        Turn out the lamp, Rusty. This must be done in the dark.


(2008-11)

Publications:
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 36.



•




Cassandra:    Drops of holy water
              mixed with blood
              I cannot pity you

              but farewell
              stranger
              friend

              You’ll tread
              your native shore 
              before me
              
              My city was destroyed
              & fate forced me to sail
              brought by their oars

              their spears
              to this dark land
              to serve

              the servant
              of the hunter goddess
              tend her altars

              where no sheep are sacrificed


(30/4-12/5/08)

Publications:

Notes:
  • Adapted from Euripides, Iphigenia in Tauris: ll. 645-55; 1110-15.



•





Shrine at Tauris
Image & design by Bronwyn Lloyd


So that’s my play – mine and Rusty’s, anyhow. I don’t know how far 
we’ll get with the performance. Mummy and Daddy’ll want to break it up 
pretty fast, I guess – but at least I’ll get to see their faces. Uncle 
Al’s and Candy’s too ...

I mean, what do they want us to think about the whole thing?
How do they expect us to feel?
Angry, that’s how I feel most of the time – disgusted, too

But it’s not all about anger and revenge. That’s what I need them 
to understand


(2008-11)

Publications:
  • Scenes from The Puppet Oresteia. Illustrated by William T. Ayton. ISBN 978-0-473-18881-8 (Rhinebeck, NY: Narcissus Press, 2011): 41.



•




Cassandra:    Noise is like flame
              the only way
              to fill

              our emptiness
              When it grows loud
              the soul is overwhelmed

              by quiet
              Maybe noise
              is all we have

              lighting
              & extinguishing
              our faith

              in death
              When life is silent
              we fear to feel

              Except for noise
              we dare not admit chaos
              nothing

              noise


(29-30/4/08)

Publications:

Notes:
  • Sampled from Yao Liya’s poem “Noise” (22/4/08).



•



at
Labels: , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.