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Thanks to the RSC, and Gillan Doran’s wonderfully ambitious programme for the 400th anniversary, not least for bringing me to a play I’d never even read, Cymbeline. Despite a sinking heart opening the programme to see a picture of Dave Cameron, and a journalist lecturing on about Brexit and why after being neglected for so long this is a play that has at last “found its time.” Hmmm. Shakespeare is always profoundly politically attuned, though better at exposing the imperatives and mechanisms, the nasty guts, than being didactic or ever lecturing. Was the graffiti on the concrete wall then, along with the programme’s nod to Banksi, or an anguished model of a Refugee boat, to make us suffer a Referendum all over again? I think the real irritation is that for nearly three and a half hours it had me imagining Gillian Bevan’s stout, very capable Cymbeline, part Britannia, part Boudicca, as Theresa May, (with respect, a bit of a look-alike), or is that Theresa-may-not? Not that Bevan is at all Lilly livered, and now I know Cymbeline means Cymbeline and there we are!

As for their Brexits, or their Entrances, in a proudly multi-cultural cast, what also irritated is directors (now trendily called Creatives at the RSC) thinking that a lot of running on and off stage and gabbling difficult lines passes either for theatrical energy or realism. Though when the actors settle into thinking and feeling through the words and poetry, there are some excellent performances. Not least from Bethan Cullinane as Cymbeline’s much tested daughter Innogen, the black actor Markus Griffiths as a very funny Cloten, James Clyde’s excellently malevolent Duke, and the Irish actress Jenny Fenessy throwing off the tyranny of the poor understudy to play Pisania, while a treasure chest of language is thrown open.

Jokes aside, busy director Melly Still it is quite right to suggest Brexit’s relevance, since Shakespeare was born out of the trauma and liberation of a disintegrating Christendom, (a reason today’s violent Religious and Scientific divides  or Terrorism might be even more pertinent), if Europa was a word and concept only just emerging at the time. As still Top Monarch, Queen Bess, who made a lot of cash from Hawkin’s African nastiness, and thugs like Francis Drake, saw the loss of any kind of Empire in France, though viciously trying to plant Ireland. While King James mooted but failed to achieve a Union with Scotland. So how did Britain really thrive and invent herself? By putting money in everyone’s purses, well those at the top, from little London, and ruling the waves elsewhere, away from the internecine battles  erupting in Europe. Oh brave New World.

You can argue then that much of Shakespeare is also inevitably about the very writing of a new English Imperial identity, if only through the most glorious expression of the English language. The world’s centre of Gravity was certainly shifting violently though by 1600, in a moment that probably did define how Globalisation and Capitalism would develop and which has not seen an equivalent sea change until now. It’s not just Brexit, of course, but how the Internet is probably the equivalent of the Printing Press revolution. Perhaps Shakespeare is a bit to blame then, at least for that outburst by Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg limply invoking tigers, to give Cameron a prod. I think Henry V is about the conscious manufacturing of a powerful new political rhetoric, soon adopted by the ‘Establishment’.  Even as a once far more intimate Monarchy separated itself from the lower orders, and banished honest Jacks to the bilges and top sails, it conquered half the World, with planting, privateering trade and slavery, and owned it for a very long time indeed.Is that what modern Breixteers want? Not of course that Bill did all this alone, bless him. The Virginia Company was founded in the year the Globe went up on Bankside, 1599, just opposite that walled fortress of London, still a Global epicentre today in UK PLC, and the little Tudor cannons of the terrifyingly powerful and private East India Company were bristling from a fort in Madras by 1607.

That year Shakespeare’s youngest brother Edmund died at just 27, an actor too, and his daughter Susanna was married in Stratford. While ‘savages’ were attacking the new fort at Jamestown, King James’s town, and a little merchant ship called the Red Dragon, Henry Tudor’s badge, did performances of both Hamlet and Richard II off the coast of Sierra Leone. Britain had truly set to sea, and it was coming back in bucket loads. For hundreds of years the scholarly Establishment claimed that record had to be a forgery though, because the Common Man could not possibly understand their Bard, if still stuffing him down School children’s throats. To improve us all and claim Shakespeare was essentially Conservative and there’s nowhere like an England!

If we think Euromillions is an innovation though, the first free standing lottery was launched in 1612 to help colonise Virginia, soon taken up by all thirteen original Colonies, to give very early origins to that ‘American Dream’. Talking of which, having a snack in Café Rouge before the show I’d opened The Times to read with even more sinking heart that the usually balanced and liberal Matthew Paris had just suggested we toughen up on the asylum rules by suggesting what constitutes danger should now only be the threat of Death! Then that Donald Trump was ahead in the bell-weather State of Ohio, invoking the example of Brexit. If we think our own Liberal sentiments (or not) can sway US Politics though, when people were asked to email Americans to complain, they got some very rude replies indeed, about being stupid, Lilly-livered Brits and worse.

A little credence then to the relevance of the traumatised Brexit line, four centuries on, although the production has faced much criticism. Some slack too in Ms Still peopling a Roman court with Mafiosi Eurotrash in lounge suits, sipping cocktails and speaking in Italian, translated onto big screen sur titres, that then translate Latin too, when the big Romans claim their imperial tributes from the smelly Britains. Who dares to translate the greatest translator and interpreter of them all – Shakespeare? Well, Melly Still! That rather heavy handed moment is about the river of history, peoples and languages that made Britain and which Shakespeare’s astonishing English emerged from too. The first dictionary was only printed in England in 1604 and Shakespeare is profoundly a Renaissance writer. While to set us up for losing our heads, the set is dominated by a tree stump, in a glass box, perhaps to echo the production of King Lear. The rest is as hip, with film, and part concrete and vegetative back revolves, to suggest Nature will always break on through, complete with images of modern Rome’s Empire-littered streets and Dad’s Army Invasion maps to have you suddenly asking – Who D’yer Think Yer Kidding?

Actually I should underline that Cymbeline is a tragi-comedy. So to any grasp I got on the plot, untangling which might win you Brain of Britain. Cymbeline’s daughter Innogen and Posthumus are star crossed lovers, or most crossed by Cymbeline, so Posthumous has to flee abroad. There, boasting of Innogen’s love and fidelity, he is tested by Oliver Johnstone’s excellent Iachimo, who travelling to Blighty, as Rome seeks tribute, emerges from a chest in her bedchamber to discover Innogen asleep, nick her bracelet, and spy a starry mole by her breast, rude fellow. So being able to trick Posthumous into believing he has done the act of darkness and Innogen is false. Like Michael Gove Iachimo pays Manhood’s price later, when the War of Men without Women erupts into horror, or is that Boris Johnson?

There is a tangle of poison that isn’t poison and lots of people trying to bump each other off, like Boris Johnson and Michael Gove. As Cymbeline revolts against Rome, Innogen flees to the forest, to encounter an exiled General good-of-heart, Graham Turner’s splendid Belarius, and her kidnapped brother and sister, Arveragus and Guideria, emphasising all the healing Nature virtues, and played very well by James Coonie and Natalie Simpson, especially Simpson as Guideria. Though in the tangle of tree roots or Brain-stem ganglia they first appear swinging from, and the whooping hunting cries, perhaps nicking far too much from Avatar. Mind you, did you see that article in the Sunday Times about tree roots being connected and talking to each other, even nurturing or throttling their young, in this global world of ours? With a very peculiar dream Mask, when Jupiter is invoked, to explain the meaning of names via a prophecy, everyone loses identity in going to war, or finds their manhood, though the Brits win, but still need a Cultural head, so pay tribute to Ancient Rome. So Cymbeline ends with the most astonishingly uncomfortable series of resolutions, more than any in Shakespeare, that had many laughing aloud, including me.

Cymbeline is certainly about a crisis of identity, but it sits not at all in Shakespeare’s overtly Historical or straight political plays. It comes among the later Romances, like Pericles, The Winter’s Tale and The Tempest, when politics, life and suffering had probably confounded the Bard a great deal and he turned his hand to achieving effects through acts of artistic magic. Perhaps his brother Edmund’s tragic death was influential in that sea change. Pericles was written in 1607, for instance, all about incest and lost daughters, but with a family crest that shows a withered branch only flowering at the top. It may be more true though that rather than Cymbeline not being popular for centuries because we had an Empire now, imposing its own tributes, it is because it is a very easy plot to lose. Melly Still throwing the baby and the bath water at it hardly simplifies, or leaves us quite knowing how to vote either. Even if Jacob Rees-Mogg should be told that despite the Histories, most of Shakespeare’s plays are set in interesting foreign and Renaissance climes. I thoroughly enjoyed Cymbeline though and it did not drag for a moment, though the bloke playing the School Master at the new Edward VI museum, backed I think by Mr Gove, told me, rightly or wrongly, it originally ran to five hours! Enjoyed it because just when you’re wondering how Cloten, chasing after Innogen, can get away with possibly being Posthumous in his very ill fitting clothes, so to trick Innogen into believing her lover is dead, his beheading by Guideria is almost hysterical. While Innogen’s burial, then waking to mistaken grief, and true horror, is probably one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen in the theatre. Not least too because Shakespeare, inventing everything, even comes up with the phrase “Brain of Britain”!

 The photo is from the RSC’s rather startling and controversial production of Cymbeline, directed by Melly Still, showing a disguised Posthumous going to war with the Romans, as everyone wrestles for their identity and they try to shake us over Brexit.  Photo Copyright Ellie Kurttz. Ticket courtesy of the RSC Stratford on Avon.






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One of the more eccentric ideas of Phoenix Ark Press was to do a book called “Chimp or Bonobo, making Love or War?”


The pigmy chimpanzee, the Bonobo (pictured being sweet in a tree above), seems to display markedly different characteristics to the common Chimpanzee ( sharp-eyed, below his cousin), most notably with Bonobos’ constant enthusiasm for sex and socializing (dirty diggers that they are), much in the vein of ‘Make Love Not War’!

If the novel Brazzaville Beach by William Boyd tells a brilliant parable about man, nature and chimpanzees, loosely following the work of one of the three “Richard Leaky women”, Jane Goodall, but essentially describing the public backing crisis and moral dilemmas that ensue when a team of scientists discover the uncomfortable truth (always a problem with science) that their chimpanzees have extremely warlike, even cannibalistic tendencies, perhaps its an important question about Man too!

So, the GAME and evolving question is this: While the Bonobos lounge about making love and hugging each other, or so much about chimpanzees and indeed Silverback gorillas suggests that the true evolutionary skill is not just to be top dog but deeply social, how would you place some of today’s world leaders, since we are 95% primate? Phoenix Ark gives a little run down of the candidates:

Bonobo_sexual_behavior_1 Two Bonobos, um, practicing Tai Chi?

Phoenix thinks CHIMP : Likes guns, macho-ness, Judo and invading Ukraine.(Compare lips with chimp above.)

President_Barack_Obama BARACK OBAMA, US PRESIDENT – CHIMP OR BONOBO? Phoenix thinks BONOBO: Definite eye for the ladies.

Phoenix thinks CHIMP: Seems to have no idea of society whatsoever, if life’s a gas!

Phoenix thinks CHIMP: With probably an eye on taking over Brazzaville too.

Angela_Merkel_(August_2012)_cropped ANGELA MERKEL, GERMAN PREMIER – CHIMP OR BONOBO?
Phoenix thinks BONOBO: Cuddly, (but still German).

Phoenix thinks ETONIAN, socializing very rarified, in all that Big Society.

Nick_Clegg_by_the_2009_budget_cropped NICK CLEGG, DEPUTY PRIME MINISTER – CHIMP OR BONOBO? Phoenix thinks OLD WET (which means he went to Westminster School), but supposedly Liberal minded.

Phoenix thinks BONOBO face, but very CHIMP eyes! (Turned cannibalistic in seeing off his brother David)

Nigel_Farage_MEP_1,_Strasbourg_-_Diliff NIGEL FARAGE, LEADER OF UKIP – CHIMP OR BONOBO?
Phoenix thinks CHUMP!

Please do contribute your own ideas to the game (for which the only prize is evolving), but just don’t be too rude about any animals, they are far more sensitive than people! All pictures are taken from Wikipedia. ( You trying to be funny? This would not have made a good book – ed! ps Why so many men?)

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How interesting that Barclays Bank in the UK have just refused a small business loan, both to back an established, award-winning author, with 300,000 sales behind him, and a whole little publisher. Despite billions in profits, reported scandals about paying little tax, and their glossy adverts on TV purporting to be at the heart of Mr Cameron’s Big Society, backing 4 in 5 start-ups, not only was it a no, but the potential interest rate was absolutely punitive. So what are the realities for real but small business people out there, as banks are reporting more record profits, continued bonuses, and harder and harder lending requirements? For the little guy, the small business, those absolutely key links in finding a truly healthy and not top-heavy business community and society, there are reports everywhere of doors slammed, and people being financially throttled to death. Vince Cable was absolutely right, that although banks are not charities and have to assess risk, the banks need to be forced to use some of those taxpayer ring-fenced profits to support people and good, viable new projects everywhere, especially those entrepreneurs who want not only to support themselves, if allowed to, but generate jobs, not to mention sales, ideas and real culture. Or perhaps the gurus behind the desks should have asked to read David Clement-Davies and Phoenix Ark books before assessing that risk! Barclays has a very bad name, from some of the people we’ve talked to, and we are starting to believe it, but will they ever take the lead and show a more reasonable and visionary way, unless somehow forced? If regulation isn’t the answer, then something is needed to shake them and wake them up. Where are you Vince Cable, and what is the Liberal-Con alliance really doing to help and protect?!

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