When you appreciate a piece of theatre as much as I did this, no other introduction seems appropriate. With the end of the Fringe imminent, I was lamenting the lack of performances that had truly put a stranglehold upon my imagination: The Carroll Myth changed all that.
The script itself is highly involved in Carroll’s biography, and offers a psychoanalytic interpretation of his descent from grace. At the root of the issue are his feelings towards the young Alice Liddell – the real-life muse for his work – which simmer relentlessly without any release, and they remain tactfully unexpressed. It is during involvement with her that his inner torment becomes most unbearable, and during separation when his mind is put at relative ease.
Of course, it requires actors to bring a script to life, and this cast bring it to and beyond it: the acting was phenomenal. Cleverly, many of Carroll’s otherworldly creations were shown to be based on real-life figures, as several of the actors performed roles in both his reality and family. The Red Queen, for instance, was a contortion of Alice’s mother, and The Mad Hatter of Alice’s father; these were his tormentors, in both his inner and outer realms.
The expression of Carroll’s mental turmoil was inventive and powerful. On one memorable occasion, the cast of his imagination came together in a discordant chorus of condemnatory sentiments, building to an uncomfortable crescendo that induced such a genuine sense of anxiety that I almost had to leave the room. The release was cathartic, and left me breathless and mesmerised.
The implication of Carroll’s interaction with imaginary figures is that the man was schizophrenic, and to my knowledge there is no evidence that his mind ever reached this point of sickness; with artistic license, however, the play successfully portrays a confusion of reality and imagination that works well from a dramatic perspective.
The Carroll Myth is not perfect. The actors playing Tweedledum and Tweedledee lacked the comedic impact associated with their characters, and there arguably could have been more humour in the portrayal of Lewis Carroll himself, although I admit that this would have interfered with the play’s chosen elements of his biography. In any case, this was a spectacular show that would have been regrettable to miss. If these guys come back to Edinburgh next year – which I hope they do – look out for them.
