Small Island (NHB Modern Plays)

Andrea Levy, Helen Edmundson

• Éditeur: Nick Hern Books
• Année: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781788501750
• Sujet: Literatura
• Sous-sujet: Arte dramático británico

Hortense yearns for a new life away from rural Jamaica, Gilbert dreams of becoming a lawyer, and Queenie longs to escape her Lincolnshire roots. In these three intimately connected stories, hope and humanity meet stubborn reality, tracing the tangled history of Jamaica and Britain.

Andrea Levy's epic novel Small Island, adapted for the stage by Helen Edmundson, journeys from Jamaica to Britain in 1948 – the year the HMT Empire Windrush docked at Tilbury. It premiered at the National Theatre, London, in April 2019, directed by Rufus Norris.

'Honest, skilful, thoughtful and important. This is Andrea Levy's big book' Guardian on Andrea Levy's Small Island

ACT ONE

Scene One

Summer. 1939.

Pathé-style news footage of Jamaica bracing itself for a strong hurricane.

On the stage, in a wooden schoolhouse, HORTENSE is hurrying to prepare the classroom for the hurricane’s arrival. MRS RYDER is standing by the open doorway. Strong gusts of wind are heard.

MRS RYDER. Why, listen to that wind, Hortense! I do believe it’s on its way.

HORTENSE. Yes, Mrs Ryder. It is certainly drawing closer now.

MRS RYDER. Oh, look how the trees are starting to sway! Why, it’s as if they’re dancing!

HORTENSE. Yes, Mrs Ryder.

MRS RYDER. My very first hurricane. How thrilling! Oh!

HORTENSE pauses in what she’s doing and looks at the audience. She addresses them, conspiratorially, with barely controlled excitement.

HORTENSE (to audience). I think, perchance, that you are wondering how I come to find myself in this schoolhouse with this fool-fool American woman who believe a hurricane on the island of Jamaica is something to look forward to.

MRS RYDER. Oh, my! I do believe it’s almost here!

HORTENSE (to audience). I must confess that I feel just a little bit sorry for this lady – Mrs Ryder, evangelist, schoolteacher. She clearly believe that she is the heroine of this situation, but I can assure you, she is most certainly not.

MRS RYDER. Let’s leave the door unlocked, shall we? In case someone wants to join us.

HORTENSE. Like Mr Ryder.

MRS RYDER. Yes, Hortense. Exactly. Like Mr Ryder.

Now, where’s my purse? I think this calls for lipstick!

MRS RYDER locates her handbag, takes out her lipstick and puts some on.

HORTENSE (to audience). The reason I am in this schoolhouse is that I choose to be. I am only a classroom assistant after all and, like the pupils, I could have left at lunchtime when word of the approaching storm was verified. But to do such a sensible thing would be to deny the man I love the opportunity to come and rescue me. For him to say, ‘Hortense! But where is Hortense?! Perhaps she’s in the schoolhouse, perhaps she is alone, afraid! I must risk my life and run to her at once!’

MRS RYDER. I swear the Lord is present in that wind. Oh, come, wind, for I am ready!

HORTENSE (to audience). I will tell you the story of my love. It is a love with deep-down roots.

Enter HORTENSE as a little child, skipping and playing on a wooded path. Enter MISS JEWEL behind her.

MISS JEWEL. Hortense! Hortense! Come-come, me sprigadee.

LITTLE HORTENSE. How much further to the big house with the chickens?

MISS JEWEL. Not much further nah.

LITTLE HORTENSE. Miss Jewel, if I no like the big house with the chickens, can we go back to Mama?

MISS JEWEL. Nuh, I tell yah – your mama gone work in another country nah. She far, far away. In Cuba.

LITTLE HORTENSE. But what if she come back to look for us?

MISS JEWEL. She know we gone to your papa folk.

LITTLE HORTENSE. Who is my papa? (Receiving no reply.) Miss Jewel? Grandmama?

MISS JEWEL. Your papa him big-big man. Important man.

LITTLE HORTENSE. At the big house?

MISS JEWEL. Him government man. Him far, far away. In Kingston.

LITTLE HORTENSE suddenly stops.

LITTLE HORTENSE. Miss Jewel, I no want to go to the big house with the chickens.

MISS JEWEL stops and looks at her. She crouches down and beckons to LITTLE HORTENSE –

MISS JEWEL. Come.

LITTLE HORTENSE goes to her. MISS JEWEL takes hold of one of LITTLE HORTENSE’s arms.

This your papa’s skin.

LITTLE HORTENSE. My skin is the colour of warm honey.

MISS JEWEL. You a lucky, lucky chile. This skin is a golden life. You wa golden life, me sprigadee?

LITTLE HORTENSE (enchanted). Oh, yes. I wa golden life.

MISS JEWEL. So shift yuh battam nah.

They walk on. Then MISS JEWEL stops.

This the place.

HORTENSE (to audience). A long track. A white house nestled amongst palm trees. The biggest house I’ve ever seen. Made of stone, with tiles upon the roof.

Enter MR PHILIP, MISS MA and LITTLE MICHAEL. LITTLE MICHAEL hangs back, watching.

MR PHILIP. So this is Lovell’s child.

MISS JEWEL. Yessir. This Hortense, sir.

MR PHILIP. Hum. (To LITTLE HORTENSE.) I am your father’s cousin, Mr Philip Roberts. You may call me Mr Philip. This is my wife, Mrs Martha Roberts. You are a fortunate child. Your father wishes you to be raised in a decent home and to have some teaching. So from now on you will live with us.

LITTLE HORTENSE is too frightened to speak.

This is a God-fearing house. I hope you are acquainted with the Lord?

LITTLE HORTENSE looks at MISS JEWEL doubtfully.

MISS JEWEL. Oh, yessir. The Lord him very good man, sir.

MR PHILIP. Hum.

MR PHILIP walks away into the house.

MISS MA. Michael, don’t be shy now. Come and meet your cousin.

LITTLE MICHAEL approaches, grinning. His hands are clasped behind his back.

Hortense, this is our son, Michael.

LITTLE HORTENSE (quietly). Hello.

LITTLE MICHAEL. Hello.

He holds out his hand towards her. In his hand there is a small gecko. LITTLE HORTENSE just looks at it.

MISS MA. Oh! Oh, put it down, Michael. You are a mischievous boy.

LITTLE MICHAEL (to LITTLE HORTENSE). Why don’t you jump?

LITTLE HORTENSE. Because it is a gecko. I like geckos.

MISS MA (to MICHAEL). Take Hortense to her bedroom now.

Miss Jewel, I will show you where you sleep.

LITTLE HORTENSE. But… I sleep with my grandmama.

MISS MA. No. Miss Jewel will sleep in the wash house.

LITTLE HORTENSE. But…

MISS JEWEL. Nuh fret nah, me sprigadee…

MISS MA. And there will be no more of that talk. This is Miss Hortense. And this is Master Michael.

MISS MA leads MISS JEWEL away towards the wash house. LITTLE MICHAEL runs towards the gardens at the back of the house.

LITTLE MICHAEL (to LITTLE HORTENSE). Come on! Come!

LITTLE HORTENSE runs after him. They arrive at a large tree. There’s a rickety table in front of it.

LITTLE HORTENSE. She tell you to show me where I will sleep.

LITTLE MICHAEL (pointing to a hollow in the tree). Look. You see that hole in the tree? There is a woodpecker’s nest in that hole. There must be – I’ve seen them coming and going. (Indicating the table.) Climb on there and bend over.

LITTLE HORTENSE. What?

LITTLE MICHAEL. I need to climb on your back.

LITTLE HORTENSE climbs on the table and bends over. LITTLE MICHAEL climbs onto the table and then stands on her back. He can just see into the hole.

Yes! I can see it! Keep still.

He stretches up and reaches into the hole.

LITTLE HO...