How We Roared

Thursday 15th February 2018

Poor Little Rich Gays after 40 minutes with me, Adrian Edge, become cross or start yawning. We’re all getting old. Our best days are over. My decor and home work will never be finished. This filthy sunshine is ghastly. It rinse-eth not, but smears. I’ve been mending a carpet for days. Now the dining room ceiling is sinking. I never noticed. Must have been like that for months. So that room to do.

No, must not think like this. What a table of riches recently. I took Salome for Prince Dmitri’s birthday. Malin Byström (look! umlaut) was incredibly great in the title rôle. They’ve dropped all that nonsense of Salome being a stroppy teenager from the last time. She’s back as a fully grown-up monster. Too much explaining or categorising diminishes the impact. She has to embody the world as it is somehow, just in an extreme form. I was bristling with thrill throughout, which is rare for me. Not a moment of boredom.

Then the triumph of Hamilton, the triumph of getting in supremely as it turned out. Rather like the novels of Barbara Cartland, whose chief glory was their fortnightly production. Neither Frankie-Doreen nor Giles nor I, Adrian Edge, could quite grasp how a not especially compelling story about a little-known Founding father of America should make a hit-musical. His main contribution, the creation of a banking system for the new Nation, could hardly be rendered on the stage. There were no outstanding show-tunes and the whole thing being a ‘rap’ – well, it’s very slick and clever. The main point seemed to be that the cast were mostly ethnically black or Asian (except for Hamilton himself, who looked very white, although in real life he was from the Caribbean) so Thomas Jefferson was played by a black man etc. We participated in the standing ovation at the end eventually.

But round at Robert Nevil’s, in between visits to the mentally ill, Anthony Mottram described the goings-on of the ex-pat community in Prague. The curious institutions, possibly schools, staffed by ones wanted elsewhere for questioning, the money schemes,the business ventures, the dreams of gold pursued to the extremes of life while rent arrears and tax liabilities soar. Cow-herding for the over 80s is the latest venture of one prominent in the Rotary Club. Could be huge. He’s already planning a villa at Fuego del Golf on the proceeds.

Robert Nevil and I – we fell off our chairs. How we roared! Such a surprise. I thought those days were over, that the capacity for helpless hilarity had gone.

My Trolley and Bedhead - in the Workshop of Kelm Driver for Gesso-ing

My Trolley and Bedhead – in the Workshop of Kelm Driver for Gesso-ing

A Door in My Home - Before Attention of Romanian Former Orphan

A Door in My Home – Before Attention of Romanian Former Orphan

And After! We're Getting Somewhere

And After! We’re Getting Somewhere

Posted Thursday, February 15, 2018 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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