Review: Pride & Prejudice* (*sort of)

Confession: I’ve never actually read Pride and Prejudice. I spent my teens as a Bronte fangirl, so I didn’t have much time for Jane Austen. And besides, what’s the fun in a happy ending, anyway?

Since then, I never really bothered. Romance, as we’ve established, isn’t quite my genre. But, well, this play may have changed my mind.

Playwright Isobel McArthur took Jane Austen’s classic and rewrote it as a raucous musical comedy, with copious swearing, drinking, a medley of accents, and the occasional ballad.

The cast is limited to five extremely talented women, who take on the roles of both storytellers and main characters. Isobel herself stars as Mr Darcy and Mrs Bennett.

Interwoven among the action is a selection of popular songs, the most memorable being Lizzie Bennett performing You’re So Vain to Mr Darcy upon their first meeting.

Somehow, it works. If the immediate standing ovation from the packed theatre is anything to go by, Pride & Prejudice* (*sort of) is a massive hit. It will be playing until January 2 at the Criterion Theatre, so don’t miss out!

Travels through East Sussex: Seaford

I have been married for an entire year. A year and a day, to be precise. Yesterday was our anniversary, which we celebrated by going to one of our favourite places – Seaford, in East Sussex, to walk along the cliffs.

The weather was beautiful, much like it was last year on our wedding day. Sunny, unseasonably warm, and saturated in autumnal colours. After a lovely stroll on the cliff edge, we took lunch at the charmingly named The Old Boot pub.

Seaford was more crowded than usual, preparing for a bonfire festival and fireworks display. As much as we would’ve loved to stay, the puppy wouldn’t have appreciated it.

And it’s lucky we headed home when we did, because unbeknownst to us, Brighton was preparing to host Manchester City in the Premier League, and the roads were packed.

But as a quieter starting point to walk the Seven Sisters than neighbouring Eastbourne, I fully recommend a visit to sleepy Seaford.

Travels through East Sussex: Camber Sands

I have a friend who makes films. Weird, poetic films. I’ve expressed all sorts of emotions, repeated endless syllables, babysat a chihuahua, had my ear bitten (not by the chihuahua), and more. I can now add “danced sexily around a goat while dressed as the Virgin Mary” to that list. Ah, the things we do for art.

The action is set in a desert dream sequence. As the only sand beach in the area, Camber Sands was chosen as our filming destination. It was an unseasonably warm October day, so the beach was full of people walking their dogs. We drew considerable attention.

Four women dressed in robes, a director, a cameraman, a two and a half metre tall polyester goat, and a puppy. A ragtag group of hobbyists and professionals. I was clearly in the former category, alongside the dog, who hadn’t signed up for this. Most of my time was spent trying to keep him out of trouble – and out of the shot.

Camber Sands is a place I definitely want to revisit, minus the goat. Although, the goat was my long-suffering husband, so it would be more correct to say without the goat costume. Despite the blood (the dog’s), sweat (the goat’s), and tears (mine), I’m keen to see the final product.

Travels through Latvia: Mežaparks

There’s nothing like coming home, especially after so much time away. As for most emigrés, “home” remains the city of my birth, the city in which I spent my formative years.

I used to travel to Riga every other month, but this tradition fell victim to a new job and the pandemic. And so I hadn’t been back for more than a year and a half, at least not until this past weekend.

The hardest part of surviving the pandemic has been the inability to visit my grandmother. She’s the best person I know. I used to speak with her for at least an hour daily.

Then she had a horrific fall last year. And though she survived against all odds, she is permanently bedridden. As for me, I’ve been helpless in London, unable to see her or hug her or comfort her.

But finally, this past weekend, I managed to make my way to Riga for a very special occasion. It was my grandmother’s 80^th birthday on Saturday, and I wanted to be there to congratulate her in person.

The million different tests and vaccination certifications and entry forms were all worth it. I was there, my mother was there, my grandmother was there, it was a reunion for the ages.

The weather was beautiful, a perfect example of the aptly named “grandmother’s summer”, as we call it in Russian. And my mother and I even managed a short walk in the nearby forest park.

As I’ve now discovered, the Mežaparks neighbourhood of Riga was the first district in the Russian Empire built using the garden city movement. In fact, it’s celebrating its 120^th birthday this year.

And in an interesting parallel, the London neighbourhood where we live was also built as a garden city.