(no subject)

Went to Chichester last night to see Howard Brenton's new stage version of The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists. This was the Minerva Theatre rather than its big sister next door the Festival, so there were no big names among the cast, but it was excellently performed. The same actors were cleverly transformed from playing the building workers to playing the fat cat borough councillors by the addition of masks and suit-and-waistcoat fronts (with built-in fat tums). Brenton successfully condenses all the essentials of Robert Tressell's novel into a two and a half hour play without distortion: the only changes are Frank Owen's little son Frankie having died before the action starts, and the introduction of a beginning scene and a closing scene featuring a modern-day capitalist businessman and his wife wanting to buy The Cave today. This allows the play to end on a clarion call of "Knock it down, build it new"; 'Make the Co-operative Commonwealth happen', a still appropriate note to finish on, and more realistic than the usual ending of 'it will happen'. While the Co-operative Commonwealth is a beautiful dream, and my own dearest wish, the 'it will happen' endings generally remind me of Attila the Stockbroker's The Marxist Tomato Grower : 'He sits and waits/for the world to turn red./He knows it will,/But it's taking a hell of a time.'

On the ferry home met Mark, a friend of the parents and fellow socialist, who was delighted to see the play's programme in my hand, and said he and his wife would be going to see it in a fortnight's time.

With you all the way, Brother Tressell.