Dear reader,
Finished! At last! Finished! The story is finished, and my soul has gone out into it. That is all. It is nothing worth mentioning.
I hope you enjoyed the adventures of the Gilbert & Sullivan gang.
If you're stumbling across this for the first time, welcome! Here's a summary of what the stories are about, along with links to the start of each.
Hilarity Ensues
Inspired by a dream a friend of mine had. The aim was to incorporate all of the silly ideas friends of mine had about settings for shows- In space! On fire! On ice! With turnips! (not a clue) With a spoon! (don't ask).
Things I learnt in writing it: Planning is good. Attempting to insert an overarching story arc when half of it has already been 'published' is not.
Misplaced
This was inspired by a conversation with my housemates at the time on what would happen if we and our friends were stranded on a desert island. I've never seen Lost and have only read extracts of Lord of the flies but influences from both somehow got in, as well as a slight Narnian element.
Things I learnt in writing it: Having too many characters and then creating a duplicate version of each is confusing, for the author and the audience. Although it does give you freedom to be nasty and still have a happy(ish) ending.
Fantom of the operetta
Once the character of 'Future James' was created while on holiday, time travel seemed the natural follow up to space travel and alternative dimensions. And what would a group of G&S fans do with a time machine if not go looking for Thespis? There's also visible Discworld influence, although I didn't realise that till late on in writing it.
Things I learnt in writing it: Aargh time travel is a pain to write if you are a pedant and want a plot that holds water with no obvious flaws. Aargh.
Thursday 31 January 2013
Fantom Epilogue 2
Epilogue part 2.
“Try we lifelong we will never
Straighten out life’s tangled skein,
Why should we, in vain endeavour,
Guess and guess and guess again.
Life’s a pudding full of plums,
Care’s a canker that benumbs.
Set aside the dull enigma
We shall guess it all too soon.
Failure brings no kind of stigma
Dance we to another tune.
String the lyre and fill the cup
Lest on sorrow we should sup.
Hop and skip to fancy’s fiddle
Hands across and down the middle
Life’s perhaps the only riddle
That we shrink from giving up.
Then take life as it comes!
They didn’t go straight home, but to the Victorian Savoy to watch a performance of Iolanthe. Ruth was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to stand it, that the memory of her own performance would have spoilt the show for her forever. But Patrick sat beside her, and when it came to the moment of Iolanthe’s sacrifice he took her hand, and did not let go until the finale was over. Then she breathed as deeply as corset and bustle would let her.
“I’m no Jessie Bond,” she said. “But I’m glad I’ve played that role, even if it didn’t end right.”
“I don’t know how you did it, when you knew what was going to happen,” Patrick replied.
“I had to,” Ruth said. “I’m not saying it was easy. But the part helped- Iolanthe’s sacrifice has always moved me. When I was a prisoner, I asked myself if I’d do what she did to help someone I loved. I hoped so, but I wasn’t sure what the answer was- until it sort of happened.”
Patrick looked at her, and took her hand again, but said nothing. She smiled at him, wiping a tear away.
“You were a great Lord Chancellor,” she said.
“You were a wonderful Iolanthe,” he replied. “But I can’t say sorry enough for what I did.”
“There’s no need,” she said. “And what you did to destroy the fantoms was brave, if you hadn’t done that she’d have won, and I’d have died. So forget it.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back.
As they were going back to the TTC a strange wheezing noise behind them made them turn back. A young woman opened the door of a blue phone box that Ruth was sure had not been there a moment ago and looked out.
“You’ve got it wrong again,” she said. “We’re too early.” A man emerged beside her. It was hard to say whether he was young or old.
“Naa,” he said. “Look at those light fittings, genuine Victorian.”
“But those people- they’re wearing digital watches. They must be late twentieth century at the earliest.”
“Shh, don’t be rude. Yes, but look at everyone else- 1870’s, give or take a decade.”
“I thought you said we were going to 1920.”
“Well- we’re not far off. Relatively speaking.”
“But what about them?”
“Well, you’re not in the right time either. Who are you to criticise? Come on.” They disappeared inside the phone box again.
“Was that...?” Patrick said, staring. They looked at each other and shrugged.
“I’ll believe anything now,” Ruth said. “Let’s go home.”
The End.
“Try we lifelong we will never
Straighten out life’s tangled skein,
Why should we, in vain endeavour,
Guess and guess and guess again.
Life’s a pudding full of plums,
Care’s a canker that benumbs.
Set aside the dull enigma
We shall guess it all too soon.
Failure brings no kind of stigma
Dance we to another tune.
String the lyre and fill the cup
Lest on sorrow we should sup.
Hop and skip to fancy’s fiddle
Hands across and down the middle
Life’s perhaps the only riddle
That we shrink from giving up.
Then take life as it comes!
W.S Gilbert, The Gondoliers.
They didn’t go straight home, but to the Victorian Savoy to watch a performance of Iolanthe. Ruth was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to stand it, that the memory of her own performance would have spoilt the show for her forever. But Patrick sat beside her, and when it came to the moment of Iolanthe’s sacrifice he took her hand, and did not let go until the finale was over. Then she breathed as deeply as corset and bustle would let her.
“I’m no Jessie Bond,” she said. “But I’m glad I’ve played that role, even if it didn’t end right.”
“I don’t know how you did it, when you knew what was going to happen,” Patrick replied.
“I had to,” Ruth said. “I’m not saying it was easy. But the part helped- Iolanthe’s sacrifice has always moved me. When I was a prisoner, I asked myself if I’d do what she did to help someone I loved. I hoped so, but I wasn’t sure what the answer was- until it sort of happened.”
Patrick looked at her, and took her hand again, but said nothing. She smiled at him, wiping a tear away.
“You were a great Lord Chancellor,” she said.
“You were a wonderful Iolanthe,” he replied. “But I can’t say sorry enough for what I did.”
“There’s no need,” she said. “And what you did to destroy the fantoms was brave, if you hadn’t done that she’d have won, and I’d have died. So forget it.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back.
As they were going back to the TTC a strange wheezing noise behind them made them turn back. A young woman opened the door of a blue phone box that Ruth was sure had not been there a moment ago and looked out.
“You’ve got it wrong again,” she said. “We’re too early.” A man emerged beside her. It was hard to say whether he was young or old.
“Naa,” he said. “Look at those light fittings, genuine Victorian.”
“But those people- they’re wearing digital watches. They must be late twentieth century at the earliest.”
“Shh, don’t be rude. Yes, but look at everyone else- 1870’s, give or take a decade.”
“I thought you said we were going to 1920.”
“Well- we’re not far off. Relatively speaking.”
“But what about them?”
“Well, you’re not in the right time either. Who are you to criticise? Come on.” They disappeared inside the phone box again.
“Was that...?” Patrick said, staring. They looked at each other and shrugged.
“I’ll believe anything now,” Ruth said. “Let’s go home.”
The End.
Wednesday 30 January 2013
Fantom Epilogue 1
“It wasn’t your fault,” Tom said to Ruth later. She was still
shaking. She had not thought that she could use the sword, even when
the adjudicator had threatened her with the gun, until the very moment
she had done it. She had not meant to kill. “You barely injured her,
just a cut on the wrist. It was the fall into the pit which broke her
neck.”
“She wouldn’t have fallen if it wasn’t for me,” Ruth replied. “I didn’t mean that to happen. But she was threatening me- threatening all of us.”
“It saves someone having to work out what to do with her anyway,” Adam said. “She’d have had to be locked up for the rest of her life.”
Ruth knew he was right. Somehow it seemed better this way, neater, more- satisfactory. A proper end to the story. You didn’t want the villain lurking around somewhere in a prison cell, the constant threat of a sequel while you were trying to rebuild your life. No, the adjudicator had sought to change her story, and she had learned the consequences.
The historian in Ruth knew that it was rare that you could be certain about what had happened in the past. You could never know exactly what had caused what effect on the present or the future. You could change what seemed a small detail, and the consequences to the grand story of life could be massive. The adjudicator had tried to change her story and to change history by removing Thespis. But it had an unexpected consequence. Although in the aftermath of her downfall no scores survived, Ruth and her friends still had the copies they had made when learning the music. There was much interest from the Gilbert & Sullivan community and talk of a production that would make the show, and them, famous. Ruth wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. But perhaps it would be safer if everyone knew the secret of Thespis. Then there would be less chance of anyone being able to take everyone by surprise, as the adjudicator had done.
Patrick turned out to have been very, very lucky. Once medical help arrived they pronounced his injuries serious, but not life-threatening. A few broken bones and a lot of cuts and bruises. It was some time before he could leave hospital.
But there was one more thing to do before they felt their adventure was closed.
“We still haven’t found out why we were given the TTC,” Tom said when they were all inside it and Agnes, for a change, was making the tea. “We go so tied up in everything that we forgot about it. But I’ve been trying to see how it works and I think I’ve found the log of previous trips, and extracted the date it was at immediately before it was left for us.”
“So we can go there and ask why they gave it to us?”
“If we want to,” Tom said, looking round at them.
“I think we should,” Ruth said.
So they did. The door opened onto a laboratory, crammed with machinery they did not understand. The walls were full of doors. Adam opened one.
“It’s just like the TTC,” he said.
“It is a TTC,” said a familiar voice behind them. They turned. Ruth recognised the speaker.
“You’re the one who gave me the instructions to find the TTC all those months ago,” she said. “But who are you? And why?”
“Who? You know who I am.”
“You’re me,” Tom said, “but from the future.”
“Your future. My present. And as for why- well.” He turned away to look at the TTC and they saw that actually he was not so much older than them. But his hair and beard were greying, and there was sadness in his face.
“I don’t really know,” he says. “Because I remember finding it, as you did. Because although what you have been through was painful, I knew it had to happen. I can’t explain without telling you many things you can’t know yet, but when you get to be me you will understand. I’m sorry. I know that’s no explanation. But believe me- you cannot know the future in advance. You have to live it- the good and the bad. And there will be some of both for all of you.
“‘Set aside the dull enigma, we shall guess it all too soon,’” Ruth quoted. “‘Life’s perhaps the only riddle that we shrink from giving up.’”
“‘Take life as it comes.’” the older Tom agreed. “It’s the only way you can live.”
Epilogue part 2...
“She wouldn’t have fallen if it wasn’t for me,” Ruth replied. “I didn’t mean that to happen. But she was threatening me- threatening all of us.”
“It saves someone having to work out what to do with her anyway,” Adam said. “She’d have had to be locked up for the rest of her life.”
Ruth knew he was right. Somehow it seemed better this way, neater, more- satisfactory. A proper end to the story. You didn’t want the villain lurking around somewhere in a prison cell, the constant threat of a sequel while you were trying to rebuild your life. No, the adjudicator had sought to change her story, and she had learned the consequences.
The historian in Ruth knew that it was rare that you could be certain about what had happened in the past. You could never know exactly what had caused what effect on the present or the future. You could change what seemed a small detail, and the consequences to the grand story of life could be massive. The adjudicator had tried to change her story and to change history by removing Thespis. But it had an unexpected consequence. Although in the aftermath of her downfall no scores survived, Ruth and her friends still had the copies they had made when learning the music. There was much interest from the Gilbert & Sullivan community and talk of a production that would make the show, and them, famous. Ruth wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. But perhaps it would be safer if everyone knew the secret of Thespis. Then there would be less chance of anyone being able to take everyone by surprise, as the adjudicator had done.
Patrick turned out to have been very, very lucky. Once medical help arrived they pronounced his injuries serious, but not life-threatening. A few broken bones and a lot of cuts and bruises. It was some time before he could leave hospital.
But there was one more thing to do before they felt their adventure was closed.
“We still haven’t found out why we were given the TTC,” Tom said when they were all inside it and Agnes, for a change, was making the tea. “We go so tied up in everything that we forgot about it. But I’ve been trying to see how it works and I think I’ve found the log of previous trips, and extracted the date it was at immediately before it was left for us.”
“So we can go there and ask why they gave it to us?”
“If we want to,” Tom said, looking round at them.
“I think we should,” Ruth said.
So they did. The door opened onto a laboratory, crammed with machinery they did not understand. The walls were full of doors. Adam opened one.
“It’s just like the TTC,” he said.
“It is a TTC,” said a familiar voice behind them. They turned. Ruth recognised the speaker.
“You’re the one who gave me the instructions to find the TTC all those months ago,” she said. “But who are you? And why?”
“Who? You know who I am.”
“You’re me,” Tom said, “but from the future.”
“Your future. My present. And as for why- well.” He turned away to look at the TTC and they saw that actually he was not so much older than them. But his hair and beard were greying, and there was sadness in his face.
“I don’t really know,” he says. “Because I remember finding it, as you did. Because although what you have been through was painful, I knew it had to happen. I can’t explain without telling you many things you can’t know yet, but when you get to be me you will understand. I’m sorry. I know that’s no explanation. But believe me- you cannot know the future in advance. You have to live it- the good and the bad. And there will be some of both for all of you.
“‘Set aside the dull enigma, we shall guess it all too soon,’” Ruth quoted. “‘Life’s perhaps the only riddle that we shrink from giving up.’”
“‘Take life as it comes.’” the older Tom agreed. “It’s the only way you can live.”
Epilogue part 2...
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