For the second Sunday on the trot the trains from Epsom were disturbed, but on this occasion in our favour as while the Waterloo service was interupted by buses, the Victoria service was replaced by a half hourly service to London Bridge, a lot nearer than where we wanted to be than either of the other two places.
So off at London Bridge to be told by a pair of very cheerful platform attendants that the half hourly service would continue until midnight. They adjudged, quite correctly, that this would be quite late enough for people of our age. Out of the refurbished concourse area to find ourselves underneath the shard, all very impressive - and remarking once again the slendarity of the outer columns, which one might have thought were seriously load bearing. And so on to Borough Market, which rather to my surprise, was shut - I had thought that it was something of a foodie and tourist attraction right through the weekend. However, the Nicolson's next to the Golden Hinde was open and where we were able to get a very serviceable sausage and mash for a tenner or so each. Not to mention to the very serviceable chardonney from Chile and the fact that, according to their web site, history [oozed] from the great beams and ancient brickwork of [this] old Thameside inn, once an old spice warehouse.
And so on into the playhouse, more or less full and managing to pack getting on for 500 people into this very small space, albeit well packed, sardined even. Luckily, I had remembered about seats without backs or fronts from the Globe next door and had got seats with fronts, at the front of their block in fact. The block being the upper middle block on the left of the playhouse in the illustration (taken, I think, from an architect's drawing rather than the place itself). Some of the people who had been less careful got to stand, which would not have done for us at all.
What we then got was Simon Armitage reading most of his translation of this late 14th century poem, supported by an actor and an actress, in two chunks of 40 minutes each. Plus a harpist on a period harp.
Point one, both Armitage and the young actor had poor reading voices, a failing perhaps overcompensated for by the actress.
Point two, there had not been enough rehearsal as there were a noticeable number of slips. More rehearsal needed to compensate for the dim but otherwise pleasing candlelight in which the reading was given.
Point three, I did not like the translation, described by Armitage as being living, inclusive and readable. It sounded to me like something from Roald Dahl and I would have much preferred a rendering which retained more of the flavor of the 14th century from whence the poem came. Given that the great majority of the audience was adult, a more adult rendering. A rendering which retained much more of the morality tale about honour and temptation. I was rather reminded of the vaguely contemporary Nibelungenlied, the subject of a much better translation than this one by Hatto.
Point four, rather dear, all things considered, at £45 each. But it was interesting to see the place and it will be interesting to see what they make of 'Tis pity she's a Whore' in a couple of weeks or so.
Back to London Bridge station past Brindisa (http://www.brindisa.com/), still pretty much full at 1700 or so on a Sunday afternoon.
Back home to get a much better translation off the web, by W. A. Neilson for the Middle English Series from Cambridge, Ontario. Interesting to have found out rather more about this poem than we got from Sam & Simon.
Reference 1: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=nibelungenlied.
Reference 2: http://www.yorku.ca/index.html.
Reference 3: http://www.yorku.ca/inpar/sggk_neilson.pdf.
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