Elder Daughter rose from her sick bed on Friday to play Lily, a very ordinary teenager, in a play called “Living with Lady Macbeth”. The play was divided into three parts, and each of the three forms in Elder Daughter’s year performed one part in the theatre. So there were three Lilys, of whom Elder Daughter was the first. Each part was judged against the other two. Elder Daughter’s form won a small silver cup for the best performance.
The whole play is about Lily, though she is very ordinary. She occupies the centre of the stage all of the time, though she is neither very clever, nor very funny, nor very sporty, nor very beautiful. She is just an ordinary, mousey teenager. In contrast the play has five girls who are tall and beautiful and confident and brash and rich and have fathers who are lawyers and accountants and bankers. They wear short skirts and high heels with long black socks pulled over their knees, and paint their nails and their lips. They make fun of girls like Lily, girls who have parents who wear glasses. They make fun of her clothes and her hair and her boyfriend and they laugh themselves stupid behind their fluttering eyelashes at the idea, the stupid idea, that Lily, Lily of all people, could ever take the lead role in their school play.
Lily wants to play the part of Lady Macbeth with every bit of her ordinary self. She becomes obsessed with the power that this woman represents. She rolls Lady Macbeths lines around and spits them out with the pent up anger of the outsider. She loves the way that she unsexes her husband, overcomes him and his weaknesses. She begins to live her life as Lady Macbeth, towering over the cowering sex kittens and banishing her worrying mother. It’s a very funny, accurately observed play, and absolutely perfect for a girls’ school.
I was so proud of my beautiful Elder Daughter. But part of me, the insecure part, wondered why they had chosen my daughter to be the ordinary one. I felt very ordinary and wondered if I was like Lily’s mother, never quite understanding her daughter and too scared to break out of their mediocrity. I knew my daughter would never have been chosen to be one of those tall, beautiful girls with their shiny self-assurance. She is not beautiful in a tall, obvious way. I loved her so much for her smallness and her openness and her bright open brown eyes that my chest swelled and a lump came to my throat, and she reminded me of me.
The playwright, Rob John, hoped that he had created a realistic Lily:
“I think that there are millions of Lilys in the world. They’re the people who you hardly ever notice, the ones who never get-into the in-crowd, who are thought to be dull, unattractive, untalented and totally ordinary. Perhaps we all have days when we feel like Lily and perhaps we too dream of one day doing something remarkable and proving everybody wrong.”
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March 11, 2008 at 5:56 pm
farnaz
Dear Margaret,
What a moving piece! I would have loved to see Elder daughetr in action!
For me she is definitely not ordinary at all,whenever I look at her face I see such innocence,beauty and intelligence !
And by the way,she does remind me of you!
Farnaz.
March 11, 2008 at 7:46 pm
ismini
Like you, Eldest daughter could have never passed unnoticed. She makes such a good impression when you meet her that stays with you, just like you. I can imagine how proud you must have felt seeing her on stage, leading the play and winning after such a difficult week. Well done to both of you.
March 11, 2008 at 10:56 pm
adifferentvoice
Dear Farnaz and Ismini, with women friends like you, who needs male friends ;)? Thank you for your lovely comments – Frances was delighted with them, being less than delighted by what her mother had written… I hope your girls get to do this play when their turn comes, or something equally challenging. I’ll come and watch!
(Note: we all have daughters at the same school. There is a drama competition in each year of the senior school. In the first year the teachers provide the production and direction, with help from the older, sixth form, girls. Every girl has to take part. As they progress up the school, the girls have less and less help from older girls until, this year, Elder Daughter’s class (14/15 yr olds) did everything unaided from designing the programme to lighting the stage to finding the costumes and props. The producers/directors did an incredible job of marshalling their peers.)
September 16, 2008 at 7:47 am
chuck norris
chuck norris does not aprove!