Month: May 2014

Ian McEwan: The Innocent

Psychological thriller set in Berlin during the Cold War, based on an actual (but little known) incident which tells of the secret tunnel under the Soviet sector which the British and Americans built in 1954 to gain access to the Russians’ communication system. The protagonist, Leonard Marnham, is a 25-year-old, naive, unsophisticated English post office technician who is astonished and alarmed to find himself involved in a top-secret operation. At the same time that he loses his political innocence, Leonard experiences his sexual initiation in a clandestine affair with a German divorcee five years his senior. As his two secret worlds come together, events develop into a gruesome nightmare, building to a searing, unforgettable scene of surrealist intensity in which Leonard and his lover try to conceal evidence of a murder. Acting to save himself from a prison sentence, Leonard desperately performs an act of espionage whose ironic consequences resonate down the years to a twister of an ending. Though its plot rivals any thriller in narrative tension, this novel is also a character study–of a young man coming of age in bizarre circumstances, and of differences in national character: the gentlemanly Brits, all decorum and civility; the brash, impatient Americans; the cynical Germans. McEwan’s neat, tensile prose raises this book to the highest level of the genre.

From Goodread.com

Olivier Dubois Company

Nudity. Very loud sounds. Strobelighting.

In Tragédie, French choreographer Olivier Dubois sets out to explore the human condition. It turns out to be very long, very loud and very naked.

Dubois, the newly-appointed director of Ballet du Nord, uses nudity as a philosophical point. Eighteen dancers – nine men, nine women – emerge from darkness at the back of the stage and pace up and down to a thumping beat.

On stage, nakedness tends to be vulnerable rather than sexy. Where film can offer controlled angles and flattering lighting, the stage is a big, exposed, chilly space. Unglamorously stripped, Dubois’ dancers are also blank-faced, lacking individuality.

Tragédie deliberately follows classical models. It aims for catharsis by building from ordered pacing to wild flailing. The dancers walk for perhaps half an hour before allowing variation to creep in – a quirked elbow, a faster turn. They step into anguished poses, as if modelling for a bad painting.

Lasting an endless 90 minutes, Dubois’ picture of alienated humanity is a labour to watch. Towards the end, dancers writhe around, humping the air – but each person is separate, not touching anyone else. Even during sex, we are alone. It’s a lot of effort for a trite point.

From Independent