122. EXIT the ACTRESS

Priya Parmar 2011

In this captivating debut historical fiction set in 17th century England, we find King Charles II with his hands full as he tries to win a war, deal with court politics, rebuild a London ravaged by the plague and the great fire, whilst he fails to start a family with his Queen, has children with his mistress Castlemaine and gets deeply smitten with Nell (Ellen) Gwyn, an orange vendor turned actress. The novel is a tapestry of letters, news, official notations, announcements, and household tips on top of the fabric that is Nell's diary. Her poignant and witty journal entries let us privy to her family and theatre life, inner thoughts and heart's desires and her blossoming royal romance. As delightful, and adorable Nell's character is, the manner in which this novel was written is even more so. I wanted the story to go on as I marveled at the regalia, almost cried with Nell, chuckled at hers and friends Tom and Teddy's commotions, and secretly enjoyed the giddiness of falling in love with a King.

'Hurry home. Fast and faster. Pull your curtains. Bolt your door. Close your eyes and wish some more. Love your neighbor. Sweep your floor. Beware. Luck can turn in a mouse's breath; before you notice, it is gone. So wish and wish for all your life to be kissed by bounty and freed of strife, and always, always for you and yours, joy upon joy upon joy-- after all, it is all there is.'(6)

'Isn't it pretty? I guess I should say "you" rather than "it". Isn't that what one does in a journal, address it personally, like a friend, like a confidante? I am not sure of the etiquette, but I do know that "you" sounds precious and forced and not for me. Grumble.'(11)

'I breathe in and begin. Clear-eyed. Low and lilting, soft and strong. A woman singing in the night. a woman singing for her lover. Her lover, lost at sea. A woman calling. A woman waiting. I sing, light and full. I sing, strong and sweet. I sing. Lulling them. Coaxing them. I sing. Charming them into captivity. I am more than myself. My voice is rich and clean, my fingers are sure on the strings, my hips sway gently, my head tilts with pleasure. (71)

'He was the fixed centre of the melee-- the substance anchoring the chaos. Nothing about him was quite right: his face was too long, his eyes too deeply set, his lids are too heavy, his moustache too lank and his mouth too wide, yet he fit together perfectly. and he was the king: a king waiting to speak to me.'(95)

'She stands out. No question. Small and bold and neat as you like. With her fiery hair and pert little figure, she will make a brilliant foil to the current rash of dark, sloe-eyed favourites. She is fearless and quick, and she will thrive in this realm. We musn't waste her on nonsense roles. She must star, but it must be the right part.'(99)

'Dr. Bangs has proclaimed me healed. How can I be healed when I feel so unwhole? I am in such small pieces I cannot imagine how to fit them together again. The doctor tells me, as long as I maintain a light diet (now I can eat all the herrings I wish) and get plenty of rest, I can get up, move about and return to the theatre, if I choose. If I choose? I choose to hide away in my little blue study in this great grey house.'(125)

'Listen: Can you hear them?

They call me Nell.

They gave me a new name.

They call me to come and take an extra bow when the curtain comes down.

They send me flowers and trinkets and letter and cards.

They write as if they know me.

They want to know where I buy my shoes, my gowns, my creams, my soaps.

They like my small feet and forgive my red hair.

They wait outside the theatre.

They call me Nell.

But I am Ellen, I think.'(135)

'I sat strangely dumb, watching the rich lace of his cuffs as he lifted the bottle to his lips. He took a swallow and returned the bottle to Becka, his lived-in face relaxed in easy comfort. This is the king, the king, I kept telling myself, and yet he has a way of putting one at ease. As in our first meeting, a curious feeling of giddy warmth came over me. Why he is just a man, I discovered, surprised. How funny and how right.(143)

'It is certainly my own, whatever it is, but is it grace? Do other women worry incessantly over making mistakes, as I do? I am sure not. The washed-out, dainty woman of the court flap and flutter and follow a set of unseen rules: who takes precedence over whom, when to sit, when to stand, how low to curtsey-- endless. I try to keep to the background, but my noisy laugh has already drawn much attention, and although men and women alike profess to love it, I cannot help but feel like a wild girl who has stumbled into an unfamiliar land.'(172)

'I still cannot get used to the sight of the king, and my soul dissolves into a million bumble-bees at his approach. I sometimes wonder if he can hear me buzzing.'(173)

'I am treating this is a game of make believe that need never come true. In my deepest heart I think the entire enterprise is absurd and could never come true. Last year, I was an orange girl... how could I ever hope to interest the king? But my friends seem to believe it is possible. Do I do this for them? No. I do this for myself. It is a daydream that will not fade. My fascination with this man has a thrumming pulse of its own, and in truth, I cannot pass up this chance, however slim, however unlikely-- my glass-slipper heart will not allow it. And so, I am resolved. I will make him notice me. For better or for worse I will play my hand.'(284-285)

'Note-- The audience numbers have greatly improved for Tyrannick Love, but they are coming for the prologue, leaving to dine during the play itself, and then returning for the epilogue. Heigh-ho. I am not built for serious theatre.'(401)

"Your sparkle came from your secret, Ellen. When we are young, very young, if we are lucky, we believe that we are guaranteed a special place in the world, all our own. It is only when we find out that there is no such place unless we scratch it out with our own hands that our lights begin to dim."

"My secret?" I asked, not following.

"You were yourself by your own right. However much it may have looked like you were in someone's possession. That was your great secret. That is why you sparkled beyond all others. You were free."(427-428)

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a Touchstone trade paperback, first edition, February 2011

464 pages

Book graciously provided by the Publishing company.

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