I don’t think the title makes any sense beyond its mere aural properties…
Stoppard, I learnt today, has married Sabrina Guinness, the brewery heiress. He’s also going to be involved in an adaptation of the book Tulip Fever by Deborah Moggach. Never heard of it, but I’m obviously interested now – perhaps I will have to buy the novel as I like to do with such things.
AND OH MY GIDDY AUNT. Just checking my facts on those above two things, I stumbled across an article from March this year on the BBC that has just informed me that a new Stoppard play will be premiering at the National Theatre next year in January. (2015.) What! What?! I am terribly excited. Hopefully they’ll broadcast it live via NTLive, but I’m not sure I’d be that lucky… I’ll just have to get rich enough to fly there and see it, perhaps. Not that I’ve ever had a desire to see an original Stoppard production with an original cast as such… But suddenly the idea that it could be possible… No, Adam, you’ll never make it there in such a short time – and to fly to England for one small thing. (Did I not express a desire, once, to be rich enough to be able to fly to New York to see the plays then whenever I wanted?)
Ahh… Life is funny and sad, isn’t it?
I’m also considering sending Stoppard a book to sign – a copy of Travesties, obviously – whether or not the damn play is finished.
28/whatever in Moby Dick. (I looked at it yesterday and moved the bookmark back to the beginning of the chapter, hence the negative progress.)