Now, boys and girls, we must get on with some other work. We shall start rehearsing the play tomorrow. There’s no need to get costumes organised just yet. We’ll start with a read-through.”
Bertie felt acutely uncomfortable. He was not at all sure about being Captain von Trapp and he had his doubts about the read-through. Did Miss Harmony expect them actually to read their parts? Olive, he knew, was unable to read yet, as were Larch and Hiawatha. That was a problem. And then there was the question of Tofu’s playing the Baroness Schroeder. Somehow, 196 Irene Spoils Things
he found it difficult to see that. It was true, perhaps, that some boys had their feminine side, but he did not think that Tofu was one of them.
63. Irene Spoils Things
When Irene heard that Bertie had been cast as Captain von Trapp, her initial scorn at the choice of the play was replaced by enthusiasm. She had always thought that Bertie had acting ability, and this pleased her, as did any sign of talent in her son
– and there were many such signs, and always had been. She herself had little time for actors and actresses, whom she regarded as brittle personalities with a tendency to both narcissism and egoism, and she would certainly not want Bertie to think of a stage career. But it was, she felt, only right that his talent in this direction should have been spotted and that he should have been given such a major part.
“I am very happy indeed, Bertie,” she said as they walked down Scotland Street on the way back from school. “Not only did you do so well at that audition for the orchestra, but now here you are being given the lead role in the school play! Truly, your little cup doth run over, Bertie!”
Bertie looked at his mother. Everything she said, it seemed to him, was opaque or just wrong. He had told her that he did not want to be in the Edinburgh Teenage Orchestra, and for a very good reason, too. Bertie was six and everyone else would be at least thirteen. Why could his mother not understand that this would be a source of acute embarrassment for him? Why did she want him to do so many things, when all he wanted to do was to be allowed to play with other boys? And now here she was assuming that he was pleased to be Captain von Trapp in The Sound of Music, when all that this would do would be to bring down upon his head the undying hostility of Tofu, who believed the role to be his by right.
Irene Spoils Things 197
“Of course,” went on Irene, “The Sound of Music is not the play I would personally choose, but there we are, the choice is made, and we must support Miss Harmony, mustn’t we, Bertie?
And, as it happens, Miss Harmony has made a very good choice in giving you the lead role. As long as you don’t actually believe in anything in the play, that will be fine.”
Bertie frowned. He was not sure of his mother’s point. Miss Harmony had told the class that The Sound of Music was based on a real story; that there had been a Captain von Trapp and a Maria and all the rest. Now here was his mother saying that none of it should be believed. It was all very puzzling.
“I thought it was a true story, Mummy,” said Bertie. “Miss Harmony said that the von Trapp family lived in America after they escaped from Austria. She said that they used to give concerts . . .”
“Oh yes,” said Irene dismissively. “That’s certainly so. But what I mean when I say that you shouldn’t believe in it is that you should be able to see that the story is utterly meretricious, Bertie. The Sound of Music is all about patriarchy and the subservient role of women. It’s a ghastly bit of romanticism.
That’s all that Mummy meant.”
Bertie looked down at the pavement. He was not sure what meretricious meant, but it did not sound good. Melanie Klein, he assumed, would not have approved of The Sound of Music.
“I see that you’re puzzled, Bertie,” said Irene. “So let me explain. Captain von Trapp is an old-fashioned autocrat. That’s a new word for you, Bertie! He was very strict with his family.
He blew a whistle and made them line up in order of height.”
“But maybe that was because he had been a sailor,” interrupted Bertie. “Sailors love whistles. Daddy told me that. He says that Mr O’Brian . . .”
Irene raised an admonitory finger. “We can leave Patrick O’Brian out of this,” she said. “I know that Daddy likes to read his books. Silly Daddy. Patrick O’Brian appeals to men because he makes them think that they can escape from their responsibilities by going to sea. That is what the Navy is all about. And Mr O’Brian told a lot of fibs about himself, you know, Bertie.
198 Irene Spoils Things
He told everybody that he was born in Ireland, whereas he wasn’t.
He was an Englishman. Then he said that he went off to sea as a sixteen-year-old or whatever age it was, and sailed a boat with a friend. Such nonsense, Bertie! And it’s significant – isn’t it? –
that he then wrote all those novels about that ridiculous Jack Aubrey sailing off with Dr Maturin, or whatever he was called.
Writers just play out their fantasies in their books. They are often very unstable, tricky people, Bertie. Writers are usually very bad at real life and feel that they have to create imaginary lives to make up for it. And that was a bad case of it.”
Bertie stared at his mother. She spoils things, he thought. All she ever does is spoil things.
Irene stared back at Bertie. It was important that he should understand, she thought. There was no reason why a bright child like Bertie should not understand that all was not necessarily as it seemed. It was also important that he should be able to see male posturing for what it was.
“Men often do that sort of thing,” she continued. “You won’t have heard of him, Bertie, but there was another case in which a writer pretended to be somebody else. There was a man called Grey Owl, who lived in Canada. He pretended to be a North American Indian and he wrote all sorts of books about living in the forests. And he wore Red Indian outfits, too – feathers and the like. He must have looked so ridiculous, silly man! He wrote all these books which were about the customs of the Ojibwe Indians and the like, but all the time he was really an Englishman called Archie Belaney, or something like that!” She paused. “But this is taking us rather far away from The Sound of Music, Bertie.”
Bertie was silent. He had not started this conversation, and it was not his fault that they were now talking about Grey Owl.
He sounded rather a nice man to Bertie. And why should he not dress up in feathers and live in the forests if that was what he wanted to do? It was typical of his mother to try to spoil Grey Owl’s fun.
64. Lederhosen
The conversation between Bertie and his mother on the subject of The Sound of Music had taken place as they walked down Scotland Street on their way home from school. The earlier part of the day had been unusually warm for autumn – indeed, the entire month had been more like late summer, with clear, sunny days that could be distinguished from June or July only by their diminishing length. Now, however, as they made their way up the stair that led to their second-floor flat at 44 Scotland Street, they both felt the chill that had crept into the afternoon.
“We must get your Shetland sweater out,” said Irene, as she extracted her key from her pocket. “It’s lovely and warm, and now that the weather is beginning to turn . . .” She stopped. The subject of clothing had made her think of possible costumes for the play. Maria, of course, had made the children wear clothes made out of curtain material, and that meant it would be simple enough for the mothers of the children playing those parts to run something up. Mind you, she thought, some of them probably already have clothes made out of curtains . . . She smiled.