Ordinary People (Talking Heads - Alan Bennett)

Member Name: Jake Speed

Product:	Talking Heads - Alan Bennett
Date:	20/06/09 (165 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Funny, poignant

Disadvantages: Nothing major

'Talking Heads' was first published in 1988 and is a collection of the original six monologues Alan Bennett wrote for his famous television series. 'Brought up in the provinces in the forties and fifties,' writes Bennett in the enjoyable introduction. 'One learned early the valuable lesson that life is generally something that happens elsewhere.' This introduction is quite amusing as Bennett tells us, amongst other things, that Postmen now look to him like members of the Rumanian Airforce and his mother's definition of 'common' was Viv Nicholson, the infamous pools winner and author of 'Spend, Spend, Spend'. The monologues themselves are all gently funny but often very dark, focussing on the small dramas that occur from behind the net curtains. Jealously, loneliness, mental illness, and the general mundane nature of ordinary life, all expressed through the thoughts of very ordinary characters. Bennett himself jokes in the intro that he's rather disturbed sometimes by the repetitions that occur in his work and Talking Heads has no shortage of vicars, buttered scones, voluntary workers, pensioners and so on. My paperback copy is 91 pages long and the monologues on the page and away from the screen are like reading short stories and are very engrossing at times. There are also a nice selection of black and white stills from the television series scattered throughout the book.

The first monologue is the classic 'A Chip in the Sugar'. The story is narrated by mild middle-aged man Graham Whittaker (played by Bennett in the television series) from his bedroom. Graham, who has a history of mental illness, lives with his elderly mother ('Well you're number one with me too. Give me your teeth, I'll swill them') in Leeds and their days are spent in each others company, consisting of trips to the Library and visits to the local cafe. 'We're both big fans of the date and walnut bread,' says Graham of their usual haunt. However, Graham's carefully ordered world is thrown upside down by the arrival of fast-talking OAP Mr Turnbull, an old flame of his mother from many years ago. Mr Turnbull is soon offering rather frank advice to Graham ('You want to invest in some roll on deodorant') and making all manner of exotic plans for the future involving Graham's mother. The increasingly jealous Graham fears that he is about to lose his home and mother to Mr Turnbull and be sent back to the 'hostel'. But is Mr Turnbull all he appears to be? A Chip in the Sugar is Alan Bennett as his best. Both sad and very funny and along the way we get little bits of information about Graham's past or hints of little secrets that are only half-hidden. This monologue is full of quotable lines and the clash between Mr Turnbull and Graham is very funny at times, not least because Graham is liberal and gay whereas Mr Turnbull is old-fashioned and politically incorrect - to him mental illness doesn't exist and it's merely a case of 'pulling your socks up'. Graham's description of his visit to a discussion group at the Health Centre is very funny as are many of the lines through the story. 'You want to get one of those continental quilts,' Graham's mother says to him at one point suggesting a new coat.

The second monologue is 'Bed Among the Lentils', which featured Maggie Smith in the television series. The monologue is narrated by Susan, a lonely and and very bored vicar's wife with not much time for the Church - 'We were discussing the ordination of women. The bishop asked me what I thought. Should women take the services? So long as it doesn't have to be me, I wanted to say, they can be taken by a trained gorilla' - who stumbles into an affair with an Asian greengrocer as she battles an increasing addiction to polishing off the communion wine. A strong and interesting monologue, the drama here comes from Susan's frustration at playing such a secondary role to her (probably) less intelligent husband, not to mention his fanclub of flower arranging jam producers. Susan is stuck in a role she doesn't want but doesn't know how to do anything else and we see that the affair teaches her a lot about herself.

The third monologue is 'A Lady of Letters', which featured Patricia Routledge in the television version. The monologue is narrated by Irene Ruddock, a meddlesome woman who is obsessed with writing letters of complaint in order to rectify what she sees as the unacceptable state of everything around her, a pastime that will eventually land this interfering busybody in big trouble. 'I passed the place where there was the broken step I wrote to the council was a danger to the public. Little ramp there now, access for the disabled. Whenever I pass I think well, that's thanks to you Irene.' Irene writes letters to everybody and everyone, including the Queen and a complaint about the Archbishop of Canterbury's beard. But her interfering and self-importance leads to a spectacular fall and a surprising conclusion in which Irene undergoes a big change. Although this is a dark story, Bennett gets good comic mileage out of Irene's mad letter writing obsession at times and there is a very good twist at the conclusion of this monologue.

The fourth monologue is 'Her Big Chance' and revolves around Lesley (played by Julie walters in the television version) as actress Lesley. Lesley, we quickly gather, doesn't have much of a career at all but refuses to face reality. She thinks a new German film could be her big break but seems unaware that the tawdry and ramshackle production seems very dubious indeed and a long way from 'Crossroads', a show she once fleetingly appeared in. 'I shot a man last week,' says Lesley. 'It wasn't Crossroads, of course. They don't shoot people in Crossroads, at any rate not with harpoon guns. If anybody did get shot it would be with a weapon more suited to motel ambience.' Lesley waffles on about acting in a most pretentious fashion, deluded it seems to the reality of her career. Her blindness continues when she's cast in what appears to be some sort of foreign softcore film and justifies the nudity in terms of character motivation as if she's in a Roman Polanski film or something. Not my favourite monologue but an interesting look at the lower end of the acting world.

The fifth monologue is 'Soldiering On' and is narrated by Muriel (played by Stephanie Cole in the television play). 'It's a funny time, three o'clock,' says Muriel in the very Alan Bennett opening line. 'Too late for lunch but a bit early for tea.' Muriel is a widow, charity worker, and volunteer for Meals on Wheels who looks after her disabled daughter. However, there are dark secrets in the family that will gradually be revealed. Another interesting monolgue, as usual we come to regard the central character in a certain way and then have our assumptions challenged in the course of the story. All the characters are very human in Talking Heads. This story has some very dark themes bubbling below the surface as Muriel's dignified exterior hides family secrets. As Bennett says in the introduction, 'None of the narrators afterall is telling the whole story.' Despite the sadness in this story, there are, as usual, some funny Bennett lines nonetheless - 'I don't know what had got into Mabel but she'd gone mad and added a pinch of curry (to the cauliflower soup) and that foxed most people.'

The final monologue is the classic 'A Cream Cracker under the Settee', which of course featured a memorable performance by Thora Hird in the televised version. It's narrated by pensioner Doris and set mostly in the hallway of her house where she has had a fall because of her stubborn insistence on dusting despite having a home help who is supposed to do this. Doris ruminates on her life, late husband Wilfred, and her reluctance to be put away in a home - 'I don't want to be stuck with a load of old lasses. You go daft there, there's nowhere else for you to go but daft. They even mix up your teeth' - as she sits incapacitated awaiting someone to knock on the door or something. A thought provoking and poignant monologue with a bittersweet ending that is both tragic and defiant, A Cream Cracker under the Settee is a wonderful closing story to the collection. Like all the monologues we gradually learn more about Irene through her memories and spoken thoughts and we have to decide if she was responsible for certain things or was just someone muddling through and doing her best.

Overall, Talking Heads is funny, touching and observant. Having the monologues in printed form is like having a collection of short stories and the book makes a good companion for a tedious train journey as you can delve in and read whichever monologue you feel like. Highly recommended.

Summary: A classic