Happy highroads to Shakespeare

by ECB Wijeyesinghe

This is the time of the year when, in every progressive school in Sri Lanka, they lay aside their bats and balls, and take to the Bard of Avon in a big way.

For this extraordinary interest of boys and girls in William Shakespeare the credit must go to the Colombo North Rotary Club and the Central YMCA. For the last seven years they have kept alive the torch of drama in the schools by offering a number of glittering trophies which have attracted competitors from many parts of the island. Associated with this enterprise are the Thespians, one of the oldest groups of Shakespeare addicts, who for over half a century have managed to survive the slings and arrows of those to whom the English language is anathema.

Even before the first Thespian stars like Seebert Dias and Michael Rodrigo trod the boards, Shakespeare had caught the fancy of the masses, because John de Silva and Charles Dias had produced excellent translations of the Bard’s works at the Tower Hall. As a matter of fact to the common man the plots of Romeo and Juliet, Othello and the Merchant of Venice were as well known as the Jataka tales. Many sophisticated Sri Lankan folk who have travelled abroad have received their introduction to Shakespeare from Laurence Olivier or John Gielgud at the Old Vic in London.

First time

In my case the first confrontation with the dramatist occurred when I was a stripling and taken by my uncle, Danny Navaratne (God bless his soul) to see “Romeo and Juliet” at the Tower Hall. Forgive me if, for a moment at this stage, I dip into family history. Uncle Danny was my mother’s first cousin, who had abandoned a promising career in the Kachcheri at Puttalam, to marry an heiress from Galmuruwa. The bride was the grand-daughter of the redoubtable Iseris Ralahamy who owned vast acres in the northwestern province.

He had the temerity to challenge the powerful Coreas of Chilaw in the law courts over a land dispute. The litigation ended in the Privy Council and “Iseris vs. Corea” is now enshrined in the Law reports as a test case which all students mug up before they face their examiners.

Uncle Danny was a great boy who sprang to life only once in two months when he was forced to count the coconuts on his wife’s estates. The rest of his time was spent in hunting and shooting or visiting Colombo in his Ford (T-model) car in which he made a beeline to his two shrines – Cargills and the Tower Hall.

One fine morning Uncle Danny and his wife landed in Colombo on the day there was a gala performance of “Romeo and Juliet”. They rushed to the Tower Hall and bought the best tickets and one for me too. They always did. I have a feeling that I have told this story before but it is worth repeating. We had ring-side seats just behind the orchestra. Though the Seraphina and violin did their best to control the melodies, it was the tabla player who really fascinated me. He kept split-second time to the music and moved his head rhythmically and altogether performed as if he were drumming in a dream.

Opening

The overture ended and the curtain rose on an empty street which was soon filled with a nondescript gang of Maradana extras armed with swords, clubs and other lethal weapons. At a given signal from the producer a mighty brawl began. The actors entered into the spirit of the scene as if to the manner born. They fought with true Sinhala ardour, encouraged by the lusty cheers of the audience who had their own favourite protagonists.

My aunt who saw my scared looks told me not to worry as it was just a fight between two rival families, such a common thing not only in Colombo but in other cities as well. Verona was no exception. Here the Montagues and the Capulets – at least their cronies –went for each other in a big way. The important thing was that the play was off to a good start.

But everybody reckoned without their Romeo. The classic romantic role had been assigned to or rather been misappropriated by an actor who had seen better days. In his prime he was a matinee idol but alas good looks and lissom figures do not last for ever. The bulge of middle age was beginning to make its appearance and no amount of grease-paint could efface the wrinkles that old Father Time had written on Romeo’s brow. In short, he was better fitted to be Romeo’s father.

Juliet was played by a pretty teenager from Dematagoda, new to the stage but obviously well-known to the youthful males in the gallery which ran round the auditorium. From the vantage points it was not difficult to take pot shots at any of the performers whom the audience did not fancy. Then came the celebrated Balcony scene when Romeo sees Juliet leaning her cheek upon her hand, and wishing he were a glove on that hand that he might touch her cheek.

Sarcastic

I need not recapitulate the painful emotions within Romeo’s breast to my readers except to come quickly to the point when Juliet appears at the window and utters with a deep sigh those memorable words:-

O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

In the Sinhala version the words sounded highly sarcastic and the gods in the gallery, who probably twigged that Juliet’s heart was not in the right place, responded appropriately. They started with a snigger which soon developed into a guffaw. A few banana peels fell on the stage and the situation was beginning to get slippery.

Some empty cigarette tins soon made their appearance and nearly hit the footlights though they missed Romeo, and from that point onwards Shakespeare’s great tragedy was converted by the audience into an uproarious comedy.

Exit

We left the hall in a hurry as some of the heavier missiles were flying dangerously past our heads. I was sorry to go but Uncle Danny promised to take me to the next play which happened to be “Othello”, also at the Tower Hall. This time the sympathies of the audience were entirely with the hero. Iago’s villainy and Cassio’s hypocrisy were too much for them and they wanted to give expression to their feelings. The euphonic Sinhala word nambuwa is mouthed often by scoundrels and it means reputation, of course. At the stage when Cassio is in disgrace Shakespeare makes him say:-

Reputation, Reputation, Reputation! O, 1 have lost my reputation. I have lost the immortal part of myself and what remains is bestial.

Imagine the actor in the Tower Hall say with a rising inflexion the same thing in Sinhala, beginning: “Nambuwa, magay nambuwa”. He paused for a second and the audience had just the opening it wanted. From out of the dark recesses in the hall a booming voice answered: Nambuwa novei yakko, umbay bambuwa.Bambuwa is an expressive Sinhala word meaning boloney and from then onwards the stage villains in “Othello” had a rough passage and everybody went home happy.