Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2), Frances Ann Kemble [i can read book club .txt] 📗
- Author: Frances Ann Kemble
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Paris; A---- Is Quite Well, And Almost More Of A Woman Than I Am;
My Father Desires His Love To You, To Which I Add Mine To Your
Eldest Niece And Your Invalid, And Remain Ever Your Affectionately
Attached
F. A. K.
BLACKHEATH.
MY DEAREST H----,
I Was Exceedingly Glad To Receive Your Letter. You Ask Me For My
Own Criticism On My Portia; You Know That I Think I Am Able To Do
Myself Tolerably Impartial Justice, Which May Be A Great Mistake;
But Whether It Is Or Not, I Request You Will Believe The Following
Account In Preference To Any Other Report, Newspaper Or Letter,
Public Or Private, Whatever.
In The First Place, On My Benefit Night (My First Appearance In The
Part) I Was So Excessively Nervous About It, And So Shaken With The
Tremendous Uproar The Audience Made With Their Applause, That I
Consider That Performance Entirely Out Of The Pale Of Criticism,
And Quite Unworthy Of It. I Was _Frightened_ FLAT To A Degree I
Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 51Could Hardly Have Believed Possible After My Previous Experience.
I Am Happy To Think That I Improve In The Part, And Sincerely Hope
That I Shall Continue To Do So For Some Time. The Principal Defect
Of My Acting In It Is That It Wants Point--Brilliancy. I Do Not Do
The Trial Scene One Bit Better Or Worse Than The Most Mediocre
Actress Would, And Although The Comic Scenes Are Called Delightful
By People Whose Last Idea Of Comedy Was Borrowed From Miss C---- Or
Miss F----, My Mother Says (And I Believe Her) They Are Very
_Vapid_. The Best Thing I Do In The Play (And I Think It Is The
Best Thing I Do At All, Except Juliet's Balcony Scene) Is The Scene
Of The Caskets, With Bassanio, And This I Think I Do _Well_. But
The Scene Is Of So Comparatively Subdued, Quiet, And Uneffective A
Nature That I Think The Occupants Of The Stage Boxes And The First
Three Rows Of The Pit Must Be The Only Part Of The Audience Who
Know Anything About My Acting Of That Portion Of The Play. I Like
The Part Better Than Any I Have Yet Played. I Delight In The
Poetry, And My Heart Goes With Every Sentiment Portia Utters. I
Have A Real Satisfaction In Acting It, Which Is More Than I Can Say
For Anything Else I Have Yet Had To Do. Juliet, With The Exception
Of The Balcony Scene, I Act; But I Feel As If I _Were_ Portia--And
How I Wish I Were! It Is Not A Part That Is Generally Much Liked By
Actresses, Or That Excites Much Enthusiasm In The Public; There Are
No Violent Situations With Which To (What Is Called) "Bring The
House Down." Even The Climax Of The Piece, The Trial Scene, I
Should Call, As Far As Portia Is Concerned, Rather Grand And
Impressive Than Strikingly Or Startlingly Effective; And With The
Exception Of That, The Whole Character Is So Delicate, So Nicely
Blended, So True, And So Free From All Exaggeration, That It Seems
To Me Hardly Fit For A Theater, Much Less One Of Our Immense
Houses, Which Require Acting Almost As _Splashy_ And Coarse In
Color And Outline As The Scene-Painting Of The Stage Is Obliged To
Be. Covent Garden Is Too Large A Frame For That Exquisite,
Harmonious Piece Of Portrait Painting. This Is A Long Lecture, But
I Hope It Will Not Be An Uninteresting One To You; And Now Let Me
Tell You Something Of My Dresses, Which Cost My Poor Mother Sad
Trouble, And Were Really Beautiful. My First Was An Open Skirt Of
The Palest Pink Levantine, Shot With White And The Deepest
Rose-Color (It Was Like A Gown Made Of Strawberries And Cream), The
Folds Of Which, As The Light Fell Upon Them, Produced The Most
Beautiful Shades Of Shifting Hues Possible. The Under-Dress Was A
Very Pale Blue Satin, Brocaded With Silver, Of Which My Sleeves
Were Likewise Made; The Fashion Of The Costume Was Copied From
Sundry Pictures Of Titian And Paul Veronese--The Pointed Body, Cut
Square Over The Bosom And Shoulders, With A Full White Muslin Shirt
Drawn Round My Neck, And Wide White Sleeves Within The Large Blue
And Silver Brocade Ones. _Comprenez-Vous_ All This? My Head Was
Covered With Diamonds (_Not Real_; I'm Anxious For My Character),
And What Delighted Me Much More Was That I Had Jewels In The Roses
Of My Shoes. I Think If I Had Been Portia I Never Would Have Worn
Any Ornaments But Two Large Diamonds In My Shoe Bows. You See, It
Shows A Pretty Good Stock Of Diamonds And A Careless Superiority To
Such Possessions To Wear Them On One's Feet. Now Pray Don't Laugh
At Me, I Was So Enchanted With My Fine Shoes! This Was My First
Dress; The Second Was Simply The Doctor's Black Gown, With A
Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 52Curious Little Authentic Black Velvet Hat, Which Was Received With
Immense Applause When I Put It On; I Could Hardly Keep My
Countenance At The Effect My Hat Produced. My Third Dress, My Own
Favorite, Was Made Exactly Like The First, The Ample Skirt Gathered
All Round Into The Stomacher Body; The Material Was White Satin,
Trimmed With Old Point Lace And Roman Pearls, With A Most Beautiful
Crimson Velvet Hat, A Perfect Rubens, With One Sweeping White
Feather Falling Over It....
We Are Spending Our Holiday Of Passion Week Here For The Sake Of A
Little Quiet And Fresh Air; We Had Intended Going To Dover, But
Were Prevented. You Ask Me After My Mother: She Is Pretty Well Now,
But Her Health Is Extremely Uncertain, And Her Spirits, Which Are
Likewise Very Variable, Have So Much Influence Over It That Her
Condition Fluctuates Constantly; She Has Been Very Well, Though,
For The Last Few Days. London, I Think, Never Agrees With Her, And
We Have Been Racketing To Such A Degree That Quiet Had Become Not
Only Desirable But Necessary. Thank You For Wishing Me Plenty Of
Dancing. I Have Abundance Of It, And Like It Extremely; But I Fear
I Am Very Unreasonable About It, For My Conscience Smote Me The
Other Day When I Came To Consider That The Night Before, Although
My Mother Had Stayed At A Ball With Me Till Three In The Morning, I
Was By No Means Gracious In My Obedience To Her Request That I
Should Spare Myself For My Work. You See, Dear H----, I Am Much The
Same As Ever, Still As Foolishly Fond Of Dancing, And Still, I
Fear, Almost As Far From "Begetting A Temperance In All Things" As
When You And I Wandered About Heath Farm Together.
We Met With A Comical Little Adventure The Other Evening. We Were
Wandering Over The Common, And Encountered Two Gypsies. I Always
Had Desired To Have My Fortune Told, So A---- And I Each Seized
Hold Of A Sibyl And Listened To Our Fates.
After Predicting To Me All Manner Of Good Luck And Two Lovers, And
Foretelling That I Should Marry Blue Eyes (Which I Will Not), The
Gypsy Went Up To My Father, And Began, "Pray, Sir, Let Me Tell Your
Fortune: You Have Been Much Wronged, Sir, Kept Out Of Your Rights,
Sir, And What Belonged To You, Sir,--And That By Them As You
Thought Was Your Friends, Sir." My Father Turned Away Laughing, But
My Mother, With A Face Of Amazed And Amazing Credulity, Put Her
Hand In Her Pocket, Exclaiming, "I Must Give Her Something For
That, Though!" Isn't That Delicious?
Oh, H----! How Hard It Is To Do Right And Be Good! But To Be Sure,
"If To Do Were As Easy As To Know What Were Good To Be Done," Etc.
How I Wish I Could Have An Hour's Talk With You! I Have So Much To
Say, And I Have Neither Time Nor Paper To Say It In; So I Must
Leave Off.
Good-By, God Bless You; Pray Look Forward To The Pleasure Of Seeing
Me, And Believe Me Ever
Your Affectionate
Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 53
The House Where I Used To Visit At Lea, In The Neighborhood Of
Blackheath, Was A Girls' School, Kept By Ladies Of The Name Of Grimani,
In Which My Aunt Victoire Decamp Was An Assistant Governess. These
Ladies Were Descended From A Noble Venetian Family, Of Which The
Reverend Julian Young, Their Nephew, Has Given An Account In His
Extremely Interesting And Amusing Memoir Of His Father; His Mother,
Julia Grimani, Being The Sister Of My Kind Friends, The Directresses Of
The Blackheath School. One Of These, Bellina Grimani, A Charming And
Attractive Woman, Who Was At One Time Attached To The Household Of The
Ill-Fated And Ill-Conducted Caroline Of Brunswick, Princess Of Wales,
Died Young And Single. The Elder Miss Grimani Married A Mr. H---- Within
A Few Years. Though I Have Never In The Intervening Fifty Years Met With
Them, I Have Seen Two Ladies Who Were Nieces Of Miss Grimani, And Pupils
In Her School When I Was A Small Visitor There. My Principal
Recollections Connected With The Place Were The Superior Moral
Excellence Of One Of These Damsels, E---- B----, Who Was Held Up Before
My Unworthy Eyes As A Model Of School-Girl Virtue, At Once To Shame And
Encourage Me; Bellina Grimani's Sweet Face And Voice; Some Very Fine
Cedar Trees On The Lawn, And A Picture In The Drawing-Room Of Prospero
With His Three-Year-Old Miranda In A Boat In The Midst Of A Raging Sea,
Which Work Of Art Used To Shake My Childish Bosom With A Tragical
Passion Of Terror And Pity, Invariably Ending In Bitter Tears. I Was
Much Spoiled And Very Happy During My Visits To Lea,
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