The Playwright: The Escapades of JM
Barrie
Chapter 10
An Open Casting Call
Notes/Thoughts: I was on the IMDb message board for Neverland the other day and someone was expressing their point of view on Mary being the "Tinkerbell" of the movie, and I thought, "Hey! She's completely right!" With Mary being jealous of James's friendship with Sylvia, like Tink being jealous of Peter's with Wendy. I thought that was a very good observation. Another thing someone said was: "I don't know if there is any basis for assuming that Barrie's wife was jealous in real life, in which case it wouldn't be the basis for Tinkerbell." I don't have an account on IMDb, otherwise I'd post this, but, she wasn't jealous in real life. She and James sometimes did do things together with the Davies family, so it wouldn't be the basis for Tinkerbell. But for in the movie, I thought that was very interesting!
BARRIEFACT: "Peter Pan creator J. M. Barrie and I William Nicholson always took our hasty meals in a public house opposite the Duke of York's Theatre while the rehearsals for Peter Pan were being held there. I noticed that he always ordered Brussels sprouts and never ate them. One day I asked him why. JMB replied, 'I cannot resist ordering them. The words are so lovely to say.' Try them yourself with a slightly Scottish accent."
Inside: An excerpt, An entry, A story
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An excerpt from one of James's journal entries for this day: "Emma du Maurier hasn't encouraged herself at all to change her ways, from what I have seen at least, and has persisted in making sure the boys haven't had one corner of their shirt untucked, or one hair out of place, or poking through the flat oiled surface she created every morning before they walked off to school. Of course, they'd come home and each one of them would look completely different than they had when they left, and just as sloppy as they had looked when they had woken up that morning."
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"No script yet?"
"No script yet. I've told you, Charles. I've only just finished the play. I still have to take it to the printer's and check over the first copy they give me and then they have to make enough copies for our cast, and that'll take a while. That's one of the reasons I was a bit hesitant to accept your idea to have the casting call so soon."
"Trust me, James. You'll thank me afterwards." Charles looked up and down the sidewalk near the theater, and then at the posters on the display board out front. "I'm going to go inside. Give it a few more minutes. There are already people in there waiting to read." The producer gave his friend a clap on the shoulder and disappeared into the theater. And James gave it a few minutes. He nodded with a smile as people passed, and let a few more inside before shutting the doors and meeting Charles down at the front of the house. Frohman, who was holding the sign-in list, tapped James before he got up on stage to give instructions and to make an announcement.
"James...James, come here for a minute please." And he did. "Look there." Charles pointed to a name on the list, which gave the playwright goosebumps all up his arms.
"Look at that. First name on the list. Mary Ansell Barrie Cannan. She kept your name as well as adding his." The two looked up at the stage to find her, and spotted her holding a small mirror and fixing her hair. She then proceeded to look through a book she had brought to read from. James's mouth was too dry for him to utter a word. "The show must go on," he muttered icily, and stepped up onstage in front of a massive crescent moon of people in chairs. He couldn't keep his eyes from angrily searching out Mary every few words. He cleared his throat.
"Good morning, everyone. I am James Barrie, as you all probably know." He glanced at his ex-wife. "You are here to read for the various parts in my latest play, The Man With Music On His Face.
"The idea came to me one morning when I woke up, discovering that I had fallen asleep on my journal, which I had recently written in, and upon looking in the mirror, found that the words of this very play had been scrawled onto my face." Scattered laughs throughout the group. "It was only then that I knew what I should name this play I had started that night I had fallen asleep on the wet pages, when I was in the park and met a woman who approached me to say: "My, my. I do say I've never met a man with words on his face before!" " More laughs. "I do apologize for not having a script to pass around, and to have you read out of, but I have just completed the play, and my friend, colleague, and producer," He gestured, "Charles Frohman, decided that it should be now that we have our open casting call. I wasn't sure at all about this idea at first because I've gotten so used to working with the actors and actresses I usually work with, but now, seeing all these lovely women and handsome gentlemen and fresh young boys, I don't think this will be all bad. So, we'll start from the top of the sign-in list, and you'll bring up what you have brought to read, and the two of us will make notes and decide later who will act as each part. The results will be posted outside of the theater, and you will as well receive a letter in the post regarding if you have obtained a role or not. If you have, a rehearsal schedule will be enclosed. Thank you very much. We'll start with Mrs. Cannan." He said the words sourly as though they were foreign in his mouth. He had met the writer Gilbert Cannan before, but the idea of putting a "Mrs." in front of his surname, especially when it referred to his ex-wife who had had an affair with him and left him, gave him chills. He stepped calmly down from the stage, and took his seat next to Charles, who had already sat down, had the sign-in list in his lap, and his hands folded across his stomach. James crossed his arms and his ankles, and raised his eyebrows, awaiting Mary's audition. She stood, sure not to trip over the large frilly dress she was wearing, and walked to the front of the stage. She gave James a look, then Charles, and opened to read.
"But not, my memory of you, should ever be subtracted by the taunting tide of the largest ocean, or the winds from the strongest storm. We shall always be one, the two of us, as though we have ne'er parted through the sad and disappointing part of life that exists as, and bears the name of death. But fear not, my soldier, we shall meet again in the land of the immortal, drinking from the cup of freedom, of newness, of freshness, and living together forever without the hatred and evil of the world you have left behind this night, and I shall join you in your opposite world when the first sun of the first month of the new year rises, and the first crow of the cock makes its rounds around trees and mountains and through green fields and wildflowers. Await my return, knight. Await my death, soldier." Everyone on stage applauded enthusiastically at the end of the former actress's reading, telling the person next to them that she would be given the part of Harriet Laudsel; and it was only James and Charles who kept their faces set and indifferent, and began to murmur to each other after the applauding ceased.
"What did you think, James?"
"Of course I thought well of it, she's had experience. I say we give someone else a chance, nevertheless. We shall see how that woman up there in the plum colored dress reads - "
"If this is because of the end of your marriage with her, James, I won't have it. She read flawlessly through that work without a pause, keeping her energy going throughout the reading. If you didn't know her at all, and she had just auditioned now, you'd be on your feet applauding and already making a note of whom you want to cast as one of your lead roles." James stared at Charles for a moment.
"Cast her as Harriet in your notes," he said simply. "Call her down please." Charles turned to the still standing Mary, and motioned with his finger for her to come down off the stage. "Miss," he said, as though she were a complete stranger. Mary closed her book and made her way down the stairs, lifting her dress as she did, and joined the two down in front, as James stood up and began to walk to the back of the theater. Mary followed him.
"Miss Tissel, please come forth," Charles said, keeping the hour going. Once the two reached the back, James turned to face her, a half expecting look on his face.
"Why are you here?" He asked.
"I came to audition for your play," Mary said defiantly.
"I thought you had retired from the stage."
"I have. But I had to see you again."
"If you want to see me all the time, Mary, then why did you leave?"
"Because I was afraid."
"Ah, yes, I am terribly frightening, aren't I? A five foot tall man that plays with children...?" Mary shook her head.
"A child, yourself. That's what you are."
"And a child I shall remain," James responded, raising his chin a bit. Mary sighed.
"Why are you acting like this, James? I saw you at Peter Pan, and you were forgiving of me. I thought we were past this."
"I'm acting like this because I've had time to think. I don't need you anymore, because you've shown that you don't need me. You've got Mr. Cannan now - and there's another thing - why is my name still attached to yours?"
"It's not. I just felt I needed to remind you."
"How could I forget?" James said, though the tone of his voice didn't show any trace of happiness.
"It's time to grow up, James. Go home to your precious Sylvia," Mary said darkly. The playwright paused then, just nodding at her.
"Bit hard, it would be," he said in almost a whisper, "Considering she's been gone for almost a year now." At this, Mary backed off a little. Her eyes avoided his, and she spoke, barely heard.
"I'm so sorry..."
"It comes as a bit of a surprise to me that you of all people hadn't heard about that." He took a deep breath, and looked up at a small light in the ceiling. "Maybe a bit too busy with Mr. Cannan to pay any mind to the papers?"
"I've missed you, James," Mary said cuttingly. "There's no doubting that."
"Good. Well, that's some comfort, actually. 'Means I know you just a little after all." There was nothing left to be said after that. He simply turned on his heel and began back down the aisle to Frohman, feverishly making notes on a beautiful young woman also auditioning for Harriet. Mary watched him go, then went down to aisle to one of the seats, gathered up her things, and walked out of the theater.
"How'd that go?" Charles said out of the side of his mouth sarcastically, not pausing from his notes.
"I'd rather not talk about it," James said, watching the woman in the plum colored dress read. They both listened for a while, then James looked at his producer. "You like her, don't you? If you're still considering casting my ex-wife..."
"I like her, James, can you tell? But Mary, she's a natural. You can't argue with me about that." James sighed.
"We'll see," he said.
You can usually tell in auditions, whom you want to cast for a part, at the first glance at their person and the first few words they speak. It was like that with the man auditioning for Zinschiel, and the boy, for Jacob. James wrote everything in his notebook, having already cast two actors (not including Mary - she was Charles's choice. James still wasn't sure about her).
He walked blindly in the direction of Mrs du Maurier's house, thinking the entire time, trying to get his mind off of Mary and the play, and just enjoy the unusually quiet streets. He was tired from the Casting Call, and he was tired from getting his mind to stop reeling in all directions.
James was halfway down the street that Emma's house was on after a while, and it was only then that he was awoken from his trance. He paused in his steps, the foot of his cane being shoved into a hole in the road, and raised his eyes to the other side of the street. There was Mrs. duMaurier. She wasn't alone though, but accompanied by James's gigantic Newfoundland. He raised his eyebrows at the sight, clearly amused, but at the same time almost unable to process what was going on before him. He wasn't sure if he should call out to her and embarrass her, or let her go and think she'd gotten away with something stupid, and was thoroughly impressed when she reached her hand down to pat Porthos on the head and give him a scratch behind his left ear. He stepped sideways behind a small spruce, which barely reached over his head, so he was sure he wouldn't be spotted. Emma, who had recently begun talking to the dog, made her way across the street, opened the gates to the drive, and started walking up to the doorstep.
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"Now. Tonight, ladies and gentlemen - and those who do not apply..." Many giggles, "we will be testing our strength by taking on the challenge of wrestling a great demon. A horrifying, humungous, incredibly fearful animal that will rip your 'eads off the moment he sees your face daring to point his way. Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you, the Newfoundland Landseer. Jack! Let in the beast." James sat on the toilet seat, readying himself for the evil Porthos's entrance. Jack, holding back a storm of giggles, reached for the doorknob, and ceased the dog's scratching against the door, as he bounded in, headed straight for James.
"Close the door, George!" Michael yelled.
"Catch him, Uncle Jim!" Jack yelled.
"No, let him get into the tub!" Peter shouted over Jack. James moved out of the way just in time, to let the canine crash into the bathtub. Soapy water erupted all over the bathroom, causing everyone to shriek and jump in alarm. James had gotten the full blow of it, and had his face soaked already. He gave a mischievous grin, and wiped himself off with the arm of his white dress shirt. "Alright," he said loudly, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves. Porthos had begun to whine, and was now trying to escape from his watery chamber.
"Don't let him get loose!" Jack warned through an insane giggle fit. James pushed his dog back into the bathtub and gave him an affectionate pat on the neck as though he were reminding him that they were still friends.
"This brute isn't going to give up without a fight, do ye' all agree?" The boys answered with laughter, the entire party failing to notice the puddles not-so-humorously decorating the floor. The playwright seized a bottle of shampoo, and dumped some on the dog's head. He began scrubbing him, and the soap turned foamy, making Porthos's fur stand in all different ways.
"I want to try!" Michael cried, and hurried to kneel down next to James. He giggled, then arranged the Newfoundland's fur in a way so that a point stuck up from his head toward the ceiling. The room once again erupted with laughter, Peter even letting himself loose and chortling shamelessly. Soon the rest of the boys joined in on the fun, more soap being scrubbed in, more strange designs being added to the bewildered animal's coat. Jack drew a spiral through the bubbles covering him, and upon lifting his arm up again, tapped James's nose with his pointer finger. The boy gasped, and turned around.
"You don't think you'll be getting away with that, do you?" his Uncle Jim said. Jack screamed, grabbing onto Peter's rumpled and damp shirt. James reached forward for the suds in the bathtub, and Jack gave another shout of false fright.
"James!" Came a voice from the recently opened door. Porthos barked at who was there, right into the playwright's ear. He slipped forward off of the toilet seat in surprise, landing himself right in the tub next to Porthos, sure to flip to his back before he fell.
"James!" Came Emma's voice once more, as she hurried into the room. The entire group went silent, as they stared at James's puzzled face. He sat up, and all four boys seemed to blink at once. He looked around at all of them, and began to laugh. Mrs. duMaurier was relieved that he hadn't broken anything, but frowned at the same time. "What are you doing? Get out of there," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. James reached to pet Porthos, who bent his head and licked his face, the soapy spike on his head flopping to the side. This made everyone giggle again, and James leaned over and gave the wet thing a hug.
"Mr. Barrie!"
"Yes, yes, I know," James said begrudgingly as he stood up in the bathtub and stepped out after Emma had laid down a towel. He winked at the boys, almost sadly, knowing full well that if they were home, all five of them would have somehow found a way to all get in the bathtub together to wash the dog.
"I'll let you finish this up in here, Mr. Barrie. Boys, I'll be in in a moment to tuck you into bed." The four of them whined in protest, but shuffled out of the room anyway. Emma had one last look around the bathroom, watched James scratch his head, pet his dog, and look back at her again, and gave a dignified sniff.
"I trust you'll be cleaning up after yourself."
"Of course."
"Goodnight, James."
"Goodnight."
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"Uncle Jim, will you tell us a story tonight?"
"A story, Michael?"
"Yes, please!" Michael said excitedly.
"Don't tell us that one you mentioned the other night," George said.
"Which one? About the prostitute?"
"Yes, Jack nearly exploded at just the summary." Jack crossed his arms, giving the oldest brother a dirty look, while the rest of the boys laughed into their pillows.
"I did not nearly explode." Jack said indignantly. James smiled, and sat down on Peter's bed against the headboard, lifting his feet up onto the bed and crossing his ankles.
"Well let's see." He thought for a moment, smiled, then got up and closed the bedroom door. "Why don't we play a game instead. Shall we?" The boys were too excited. They sat up in bed eagerly, waiting for James to give them their roles.
"Jack, you'll be the king, ("Decided that one quickly," Peter whispered to Michael) Peter will be...Peter will be the wise old man. George, you be the shoemaker, and Michael can be the shoemaker's wife."
"Why do I always have to be the woman?" Michael said angrily. James only smiled. "Don't make me be the tickle monster, Michael," he said. Michael giggled, pulling his pillow up from the bed and over his face, and peeked out at James over it, who was still smiling at him.
"In that case, I'll be Mr. Whittaker."
"What does he do?" Jack asked blankly.
"I don't know yet," James said. "But let's get on with it before Captain Hook comes in."
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October 11, 1872
Nothing to report, really. Gerald's been running around the house practicing his lines for the school play. He comes around to my room, telling me to say my line, and right after he says: "Bring me my chequebook, Sally," I say, "Surely, Mr. Hsvedel. It'll only take a moment, as it is just on your desk." And then he laughs and skips out. Mark my words, one day you'll see me carrying his detached head in my basket.
Father is home today after a holiday, painting. He came home with his head high, beaming, and showing off the thirteen paintings he had brought home. It was difficult, he said, for the coachman to keep himself from throwing himself into the street. The paintings were crammed in there with Father (none of them were smudged, luckily) and one nearly fell out on the journey. The two of them came in the door (Father and the coachman) and the coachmen said something awful to Mother, but Father didn't hear it, and kept his pride to lay them all in the parlor for us to marvel at.
The rest of the day, I spent in my room reading, and thinking about a few things: Does Heaven have an address? I want to send Herbert a letter in the post. If he's sleeping, I should like him to wake up to a message from me, telling him I'm well and hoping he is too. If there isn't an address, I shall be very sad. But, life goes on, as Mother says. I hope to see him again someday, so he's not lonely...
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With this being Chapter 10, I want to give some praise to, and thank the people who have stayed with me since I first posted Chapter 1 on February 23, 2005. I was a bit late in seeing the movie, when I found out it had come out in November of 2004! My mom and I had been wanting to go see if for a long time, but had been lacking the time. So now without further ado, I shall present these people as very dedicated writers and readers, who have become my friends through this story. Their names are below:
1. KatrinaKaiba
2. Liz (she's from school)
3. oi-oi-oi
4. H.M. Chandler
Thank you all so much! You don't know how much this means to me. For this, I give you my best regards.
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Notes/Thoughts: I needed a bit of information about Charles Frohman (if he ever married or not) and ended up reading this biography about him online, which was very, very good. I might actually have a better idea of how to write him now from this bio. If you would like to read it, it's here: h t t p / r m s l u s i t a n i a . i n f o / p a g e s / s a l o o n c l a s s / f r o h m a n c h a r l e s . h t m l (copy and paste into your browser and delete the spaces to view) Also, my birthday is October 11. I wanted to have something exciting happen in Sylvia's diary, but it ended up t be a boring day. That's okay...
REVIEW REPLIES FOR CHAPTER 9:
(and 8)
Amy: The ice thing came to me real late, and it came to me...god, when did it come to me? Er...well anyway, I wasn't sure which chapter to put it in, but I was almost wanted it to be James and all of the boys on their day off...but I made him out there with Peter and it just seemed like a better idea than having the boys run out of the house and join. The squirrel - I was thinking about your reaction when I wrote that XD! I'm so cruel. But it did sound like a boy thing and that's the real reason I put it in there. I do have a note about your last comment - and it's this: at the end, there may not be an auction - or there may be one. You'll just have to see, and I'll just have to see how the story goes to decide if I want to change the ending I have picked out. It was originally something else, but I got a better idea. So anyway...keep on readin, I know you will! luv ya lotz!
Lizella: I was almost certain you had stopped reading! And I laughed - I looked back at one of your reviews and you had said: "Chapter 9? are you intending on killing me off? How can I ever wait that long, now that I know." And now I get this review from you for it! I'm so glad you've continued reading and have sent me a review again! Thank you so much for the comments about mine being the "best Finding Neverland fanfiction in here and out there" (though I'm still convinced KatrinaKaiba's Neverland is...but if you have any further comment regarding this, I would be interested to hear it) and the best part being that there's no Mary Sues - which was my MISSION when I came on here and looked down the page and saw: "Until (insert name here) came along!" "But then he met (insert name here)!" "Until the day he found (insert name here)!" So I wanted to free readers of that. And now I'm sure after reading this chapter, you're tired of reading your long review reply along with it. I have this Author's Ailment (that's what I call it anyway) where I have to say absolutely everything on my mind. So I'll end this with a simple: I hope I see your reviews more often! Keep reading, more is to come!
KatrinaKaiba: Hahaha! Maybe I was drunk, I don't recall. Maybe I'm having a blackout right now...LOL. Don't worry I'll try and have some more Emma/James competitions and some more James/Peter talks. Hold your horses. (oh, I'm funny) And Charles Frohman persists to be one of my favorite characters lol! Thanks as always for readin! (and for the Author's Note:) I'm trying! I was almost done with this chapter when you sent that review. And yes Amy's story is really good, but, like me, she doesn't realize how good it is. A story's different through the eyes of others...
H.M. Chandler: Yeah, my dates kinda got screwy too. Ah, well. The horses - well that was mostly put in the chapter right after 8 because 8 was COMPLETELY sad. And I felt that we needed some comic relief or whatever it was. Keep reading and I'll keep writing:-)
Liz: (for chapter 8) Calm yourself! Thank you, but I'm sure you'll never write as well as me. LOL. I'm kidding. I don't even think I'm that good. I lubbles you too heh...thanky!
oi-oi-oi: Hun, you don't have to worry about your "absence." I've had a long one too from posting. So you must excuse MINE. Anywho, yes I did make up the pond quote...it just sorta popped in there and I decided to make it James's journal entry! And yes, I'll get more interaction with James and the boys. With Christmas coming and all that, they'll be in and out more often, don't worry. Thanks for another awesome review! I always enjoy yours!
kris: Thank you so much! I'm glad you read the entire thing, too! New reviewers recently have been reading only chapter 1 or chapters 1 and 2 and then just sort of abandoning it or saying that they'll read the rest and then not read the rest. It gets me mad. I hope you read this chapter and liked it and won't be one of those people who abandon me! Thanks for reading and sending the nice review!
Claire: Thank you for all the comments! I hope to see a review from you for this chapter and the ones to come! it makes me happy when I see that people like the things I write and that I'm not getting flamed! Keep readin...!
