A tale of many cities
Dickens’
Women is English actress Miriam Margolyes’ one- woman
show about the life of Charles Dickens, examined through the prism
of the literary women he created. The novels the show draws on
include The Uncommercial Traveller, Nicholas Nickleby,
The Old Curiosity Shop, Oliver Twist, Dombey
and Son, David Copperfield, Mrs Lirripers’
Lodgings, Little Dorrit, Great Expectations
and Bleak House. If you’re a fan of Dickens you
could be in for a shock. The prolific writer who declaimed injustice
and railed against social inequities has a number of skeletons
rattling away in his nineteenth century closet.
The sage is set with a portrait of Dickens, two
throne like chairs on a podium, a lectern, an ordinary pine chair
and a piano. The impression is of an Edwardian drawing room, no
doubt intended to be that of Dickens, which generates a feeling
of intimacy.
The piano is more than just decorative. John Martin
accompanies Margolyes, adding touches of humour and emotion to
certain pieces with his music. But he does seem rather under-utilised.
Martin’s contributions are quite sparse, making one wonder
if his contribution is adlibbed or scripted. Perhaps there was
a concern it would detract from Margolyes’ performance.
If such a concern exists, it is redundant.
With or without musical accompaniment, Margolyes
has a big stage presence which has nothing to do with her size
and everything to do with her energy and joy de vivre. She’s
a passionate fan of Dickens. She even made a memorable documentary
about Dickens’ trip to America. Margolyes first came across
Dickens at the tender age of 11 when she read Oliver Twist and
she’s been reading him ever since. She’s even played
a few Dickens characters during her career, including from Little
Dorrit and Oliver Twist.
It’s pretty safe to say Margolyes is Dickens’
number one fan. She admires his rapier wit, but her respect is
tempered by her knowledge of Dickens’ human frailty, failings
and foibles, especially in his family life. In particular she
decries Dickens’ treatment of his long suffering wife, Catherine.
Margolyes explores Dickens’ not so warm and fuzzy side in
this production with warmth and humour, drawing parallels between
characters in his literature and his personal life. Even though
she loves his writing, Margolyes does not hesitate to poke fun
at her idol, for example lampooning his pre-occupation with beautiful
17 year old heroines.
One puzzling thing is Margolyes’ costume.
She wears salmon pink trousers and a blouse that looks like a
recycled brocade curtain. Admittedly such an outfit works nicely
as a blank slate for the various characters she assumes. But the
sort of nineteenth century women she’s portraying didn’t
wear trousers. It’s a credit to Margolyes’ talent
as an actor that her costume, once you get used to it, doesn’t
distract you from buying into the characters she evokes.
Margolyes doesn’t just bring Dickens’
characters to life, she conjures them. She uses all her skill
and the tools at her disposal to flesh out Dickens’ most
colourful, florid, demure and damaged characters. Her face is
so malleable, so mobile and lugubrious, her mannerisms and body
language so perfectly done, she’s fascinating and at times
very moving to watch. Margolyes has such a perfectly honed ear
for humour that she brings out the comedy of Dickens’ writing
that you didn’t even know was there.
A word to the wise though – get in and book
early so you get seats as close to the stage as possible. Then
you can be sure not to miss any of Margolyes’ precious turns
of face. The people closest to the stage were in raptures at the
performance I attended, despite the 2¼ hour performance
(including interval).
If you’re a fan of Charles Dickens, you’ll
find Dickens’ Women fascinating, as well as highly
entertaining. The amount of biographical information at Margolyes’
fingertips paints a fascinating picture of the man whose work
continues to be read even after all this time. But whether you’re
familiar with Dickens or not, you’re in for a treat with
Margolyes as your gregarious guide.
Philippa Wherrett
