Vineberg [DB6] describes “‘Talking
Heads’ as:
a series[km7] of full- length sketches in which six small,
unexceptional human beings turn their lives inside out for the camera... And in
the course of the inventory-taking they draw us closer... to their blemishes
[and] their most cherished secrets and their hidden strengths, expanding to
fill not only the television screen but the plain of our imaginations”.
(Vineberg, [km8] 1998).
Originally
conceived for TVtelevision, but
since being produced for the stage multiple times, the series of monologues are
wholly dependent on the form of monologue and at points even seem like
deconstructions of the form. “The half dozen teleplays that make up [‘Talking
heads’]... are given by six actors, all highly evolved
proponents of British classical technique”. (Vineberg, 1998) This reference to
“British classical technique” I feel [km9] comments on the nature of the well-worn
tradition of British
parlour storytelling[km10] and. In [km11] a review from
2013, Gardner comments on the writing that “the emotions are muted, often quite
cosy rather than genuinely painful” (Gardner, 2015). This is emphasised in the
text as we see many of our characters avoiding painful material following a
build to a climax, ; Bennett
intentionally diverts us from the climax and makes us feel the pain of our
character’s
as they struggle to deal with the pain of their stories.
Such[km12] is the case with
Wilfred in “Playing sandwiches” [km13] as he moves to
describe a plane (“I think of the ‘No smoking’ sign going on” [222]) following
a build in the monologue of him confronting his paedophilic nature (“I didn’t
foist them off like grown up’s do. I looked at them. I listened to them”
[222]). Viewing the monologues through this lens[km14] leads us to understand
that the pieces are as much a deconstruction of the ‘unreliable narrator’
trope, as Jobert[DB15] describes “the
obvious problem with such narratives is that they may come across as
technically contrived and thematically anecdotal” (Jobert, 2013). Jobert
describes that the monologue “implies a single viewpoint and seems to negate
any plurality of voices or any type of interaction. But even homodiegetic
narrators sometimes adopt another character’s point of view” (Jobert, 2013). [km16] Such is the case
in each monologue; a prime example would be Graham’s adoption of both Mr
Turnbull and his mother in “A chip in
the sugar”; “She said, ‘they never are chess. Chess with no clothes
on’” [66]. Viewing the characters adopt these persona’s lets us view in
real-time their own self-reflecti[km17] ons. Jobert then
takes this further, commenting that watching these pieces “can only incite [the
audience]
to reflect on their own mortality w[km18] ith the necessary gravity
and the amused distance Alan Bennett manages to combine in his writing.” Perhaps the
mode of short-form monologues, usually ranging between 30 and 50 minutes, is
where Bennett feels his theatre and all theatre is at its best, commenting in
1996 on a few of his other plays; “With the exception of ‘Habeus Corpus’ all these plays are too long – well over an hour
each way, which is all that I can ever take in the theatre – and in perfor[km19] mance they should
be cut”. (Bennett, 1996).
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One of the many methods and techniques used by Bennett in these pieces
is the use of repetition and pattern. [DB20] This is something Bennett is very conscious about; “There all also certain patterns in the form which, to begin with,
I was unaware of but which I now see are essential to the action – and for all
that there is just one person talking, there is quite a bit of action”
(Bennett, 2001). Bennett goes on to dissect one specific pattern; “A section
will often end with a seemingly throwaway remark that carries the plot
forward”. Such examples of this include Susan’s remarks about her husband in “Bed
among the lentils” (“Geoffrey suddenly remembered he was
burying somebody in five minutes and took himself off” [79]), [DB21] or the noting of the whistle in “Nights in the gardens of Spain” (“I
sit here at night, listening to the frogs... and Henry, whistling under his
breath” [252]) or the mentioning of the ‘sweet shop’ by Wilfred in “Playing
Sandwiches” (“On the way home I called in at the sweetshop” [218]). All
of which
these examples subtly allude to
pivotal plot points which will be revealed later in the piece. Bennett states
that all of these examples “alert the audience to the fact that something
dreadful is about to happen” (Bennett, 2001). In the acknowledgement of this
pattern, Bennett offers an ingenious subconscious form of tension to repeat audiences. [km22]
This lends also to Vineberg’s statement that “all [12 characters] are struggling to do
that very British thing, maintaining their dignity in the face of a barrage of
assaults” (Vineberg,
1998), [DB23] hence they all
find themselves circumventing the sorer subjects in their stories. Critic[DB24] Gardner however
believes that these patterns greatly hinder the work and lead them to grow
repetitive in nature; “Putting the three monodramas side by side points out the
repetitiveness of the writing and what 30 years ago may have seemed like social
observation now comes across as a eulogy for a disappeared world[km25] ” (Gardner, 2015).
As aforementioned I believe that this is not merely lazy writing on the behalf
of Bennett, but rather an intentional choice that is bringing to light
subtly the subconscious nature of the characters we view in the pieces. [km26] It is clearly chief to [km27] Bennett that these
stories are told through the medium of monologue; “Forms, one is often
led to think, dictate themselves, the material demanding to be written in a
particular way and no other. I would be happy to think this were so with these
pieces but I’m not sure if it’s true” (Bennett, 2001). Bennett goes on to
emphasise why the form of monologue makes these stories what they are;
commenting that if they were not monologues “then they would be different stories,
more objective, rounded and altogether fairer to the people the narrator is
talking about. None of these narrators after all is telling the whole story[km28] ”. (Bennett, 2001) The subtext of all the pieces is their unreliable
nature, as these stories are told without the slightest hint of objection,
Bennett instead leans into the
subjection a[km29] [DB30] nd let’s his character deliver the story
exactly from their point of view.
Critic Higgins believes that Bennett “is easily mistaken: those wry Yorkshire tones and an art that tends to dwell on matters domestic and provincial mean he is frequently regarded as rather cosy – when, in fact, plays such as ‘The History Boys’ and ‘People’ only thinly disguise his political anger.” (Higgins, 2015). A[km31] political angle mainly shines through in ‘Talking heads’ through a dissection of casual racism. Halliday dissects this specific point noting the “exception of Mr Turnbull who displays a level of intolerance that surpasses lack of cultural understanding in 'A Chip in the Sugar'” (Halliday, 2016). There are many examples of this, the core of which is found in his conversation with Graham’s mother; “Do you like these Pakistanis?”, “They sell mangoes in our post office, what explanation is there for that?”, “You’ve got it all wrong… Blaming it on the government… it’s the blacks” [57]. None of these prejudices however are coming from an elevated status; Bennett is rather de-constructing a social climate that is still present today, based on it being casual. [km32] [DB33] This lack of forward-thinking also relates to the pressure that many characters face to alter with what in the eighties was a rapidly altering period of conventionality; “Bennett presents Irene Ruddock, Graham and Vera as struggling to engage with the rapid culture shift of the eighties – people of their time, unable to embrace the present” (Halliday, 2016). Graham and his mother make repeated comments on their distaste for the colour red, describing it as a “common colour” [55][km34] . It is these sorts of absurdly specific opinions that lead to much of the comedy in the pieces, primarily 'A Chip in the Sugar' and ‘A lady of letters’. Bennett was mugged in 2010, and later commented on the ordeal that although “they stole his cash, [he later realised that] ‘The casualty, though, [was] trust, so that I am now less ready to believe in the kindness of strangers’”. (N/A, N/A)[km35] . It is this concept of thwarted ‘kindness’ that perpetuates a lot of the plots in the monologues; Muriel’s trust of Giles (her own son) in ‘Soldiering on’ and Mr Ramesh’s care for Susan in ‘Bed among the lentils’, are both examples of this. Halliday argues to this point that “it can be argued Bennett is condemning society for its abrupt isolation of people who are deemed as ‘different’. However, it is left ambiguous whether the character’s seclusion from the community is due to their lack of self-knowledge and awareness or because of society itself”. (Halliday, 2016) For instance Doris’s ultimate end in “A cream cracker under the settee” is completely the decision of herself choosing to send the policeman (“Cracker” being the only monologue to feature two characters) away calling out to him that she “was having a nap” [151].
Perhaps it is what separates Bennet from other writers that is so evident in these pieces; Vineberg agrees, stating that “at his best, Bennett excels at the type of epigrammatic, suggestive dramatic writing that Pinter always gets high points for, while putting in all of the things that Pinter likes to leave out; subtlety, gallantry, compassion and heart”. (Vineberg, 1998). In many ways it is in the intrinsic contradictions of Bennet the author that best offer context for the contradictions of the twelve characters we are given in the piece; “Socialist, royalist, show-off, shy ... in life and in his fiction, Alan Bennett is a bundle of contradictions” (Higgins, 2015), it would not remiss [DB36] to say that this description of Be[km37] nnett wholly reflects each of his characters over the twelve monologues. Many of these contradictions are related directly to what the characters acknowledge and what they fail to acknowledge. For instance denial is the chief reaction when it comes to most of the characters; whether it’s more tragically Muriel’s dismissal of her husband’s molestation (“As the vicar said: Ralph touched life at many points” [125], or Lesley’s failure to re-assess her talent (“You see the more you have to offer as a person the better you are as an actress” [120]). It is fair to say most of Bennett’s characters are facing a conflict between their own naivety and their own dignity. [km38] However many critics disagree when it comes to some of the greater transformations across the monologues; one distinct change that is noted often, is the joy that Mrs Ruddock finds in prison at the end of “A lady of letters”; “I’m sitting there. And I’m so happy” [101]. Halliday feels that is the only natural progression for the character; “Irene Ruddock experiences the “first taste of freedom [she’s] had in years” [99] when in prison for she is appreciated and welcomed; something she implicitly wishes for from the very beginning of the monologue”. (Halliday, 2016) Vineberg however thinks that this borderline [DB39] absurd; stating that “the idea that Miss Ruddock encounters the first happiness of her life behind bars is unconvincing, even baffling.” (Vineberg, 1998). What is similar between all of the characters is a sense of naivety; as Bennett describes it ,“they don’t quite know what they are saying and are telling a story to the meaning of which they are not privy to” (Bennett, 2001). For instance; Graham won’t accept that he’s more or less married to his mother, Miss Ruddock is not the pride of the locals that she imagines she is, Muriel does understand that her husband molested her daughter but is still in denial about her hand in it all, Lesley believes that she may still very well become an actress in the future. There is but one exception to this in the character of Doris. Doris is the only one “who knows the score” (as Bennett puts it), understanding her ailments in old age, but still is privately in denial of the downfall of her marriage to her husband.
There
is undeniable poignancy to each of these twelve monologues; both the blurb of the [km40] [DB41] published release of the monologues and the DVD release note the text’s
“poignancy”; “Darkly comic, tragically poignant and wonderfully uplifting” (BBC
books, 2001), “These poignant, perceptive and comic stories venture beyond
their character’s suburban normality” (BBC DVD, 2005). And although, as
Vineberg comments “the monologues aren't equally fine, but as a gallery of portraits
they're remarkable” (Vineberg, 1998), there is undeniable genius to the
simplicity of Bennett’s work. An impeccable truth is intrinsic to the work and
Bennett offer’s every audience and every reader, something powerful to attempt
to grasp. But what set’s Bennett truly aside from other
authors is his deft ability to infuse comedy into the slightest of phrases,
even when the story is at its most tragic. Muriel’s closing line in “Soldiering
on” emulates this perfectly; “I wouldn’t want you think that this was a tragic story. I’m not a
tragic woman. I’m not the type” [km42] [DB43] [137]. Such has always been the case with
Bennett, even upon receiving an award for his writing, Bennett could not refuse
to illuminate the misinterpretations of his own works; “when
he stepped up to receive his statuette [for the Evening standard best comedy
award] said: ‘To be given the Award for best comedy is rather like taking great
care and love nurturing your finest marrow but when you take it to he show you
find you have won the prize for best cucumber’” (Owen, 1980). Such is Bennett,
one of our finest authors and a jewel of the north.
BIBLIOGRPAPHY
Primary Sources (Specified
editions of ‘Talking heads’ (Alan Bennett, 1988) & ‘Talking heads 2’ (Alan
Bennett, 1998); referenced within this document)
1. Bennett, Alan. (2001). Talking Heads. London: BBC books, an
imprint of Ebury publishing.
2. Alan Bennett: The complete Talking Heads. (2005). [DVD] BBC Worldwide Ltd.
1.
Ahmed, Samira (2013). Alan Bennett: Why spilling
all is not the art of the monologue [online] Samira Ahmed: Journalist, Writer,
Broadcaster. Available at:
http://www.samiraahmed.co.uk/alan-bennett-the-art-of-the-monologue/ [Accessed
03/04/2020].
2.
Bennett, Alan. (1996). Alan Bennett: Plays 1 (Forty years on, Getting
on, Habeas corpus, Enjoy). London: Faber and Faber limited [km44]
4.
Halliday, Lucy (2016). [km45] Theme and
Attitudes-Talking Heads By Alan Bennett [online] Prezi. Available at:
https://prezi.com/ri8nccziii9o/theme-and-attitudes-talking-heads-by-alan-bennett/
[Accessed 03/04/2020].
5.
Higgins, Charlotte (2015). Interview: Alan Bennett: ‘I didn’t see the
point of coming out' [online] The Guardian. Available at:
https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2015/oct/31/alan-bennett-lady-in-the-van-film-interview
[Accessed 03/04/2020].
6.
Jobert, Manuel (2013). Total
Report in Alan Bennett’s “A Cream Cracker Under the Settee” [online]
Open Edition. Available at: https://journals.openedition.org/esa/1518 [Accessed
03/04/2020].
7. N/A (N/A).
10 things you need to know about Alan Bennett [online] The Telegraph.
Available at:
https://www.telegraph.co.uk/film/the-lady-in-the-van/ten-things-to-know-about-alan-bennett/
[Accessed 03/04/2020].
8.
Owen, Michael. (1980). Celebration: Twenty five years of British
theatre. London:WH ALLEN (A Howard and Wyndham company)
9. Vineberg, Steve. (1998) “Duets and Solos: The Pleasures of Alan Bennett”. The Threepenny Review, no. 74, pp. 24–26. JSTOR. Available at: www.jstor.org/stable/4384738. [Accessed 03/04/2020].
Further Research
1.
Bennett, Alan. (2004). The History Boys. New York: Faber and
Faber inc
2. Bennett, Alan. (2005). Untold stories. London: Faber & Faber.
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