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breakinglight11In trying to come up with what to post today, it struck me that despite going on and on, often in the text of the Hawking plays, about how important Nathaniel's relationship with the Colonel was to him, I'd never actually written any interaction between them. The closest I've ever come was a quick mention in what is thus far the only prose to exist of the main Hawking storyline— a short story I drafted about Nathaniel's falling for Clara during the time she was seeing Justin.
While version one of that piece is complete, I never finished editing that story, since other projects became more pressing. But it was an interesting experiment in telling other pieces of the story which will never be able to feature in the full-length plays. Not to mention a chance for me to practice my rather atrophied prose muscles, which are probably good for me to keep in practice, even though drama is my focus. I plan on sharing that story when it's finished, but it still needs a pretty serious editing pass before I do that.
I bring that up because I thought that brief moment mentioned in that story between Nathaniel and the Colonel might make a good focus for today's scene. Imagining exactly what their interactions were like is really useful to understanding how Nathaniel has the rosy impression of his uncle that he does, and giving context to how he remembers him.
On top of that, I like the small ways it's revealing of the Colonel. It's easy to see how Nathaniel doesn't realize what his uncle is communicating to him— as a self-centered kid in pain, he's not in a good place to be perceptive —but the Colonel offers a sympathy to his nephew's plight that speaks to what Reginald himself feels about what he's gone through.
Also, it's fun to imagine what a lovesick, nineteen-year-old Nathaniel was like. 😁
Day #23 - "What a Man Can't Help"
By Phoebe Roberts
THE COLONEL, decorated war hero Reginald Prescott Hawking, late forties
NATHANIEL HAWKING, his nephew, late teens
London, England, 1874
~~~
(A teenaged NATHANIEL mopes in the study. Enter his Uncle Reginald, THE COLONEL.)
THE COLONEL: Ah, here you are.
NATHANIEL: Just wanted a bit of quiet, Uncle.
THE COLONEL: I see. You were quiet at dinner.
NATHANIEL: Ah— was I?
THE COLONEL: Forgive me, but that’s a rare enough occurrence to take notice.
NATHANIEL: Heh, I suppose so.
THE COLONEL: Not to worry; you come by it honestly from your father. I thought I’d ask, is everything all right, then?
NATHANIEL: What? Of course.
THE COLONEL: Are you quite sure?
NATHANIEL: Why wouldn’t I be?
THE COLONEL: Am I wrong tonight in thinking that you don’t seem to be yourself?
NATHANIEL: It’s nothing, Uncle.
THE COLONEL: Indeed? Because I could have sworn you spent the evening stealing glances at that young lady who was Justin’s guest. I wondered if that might have something to do with it.
NATHANIEL: You— you saw that?
THE COLONEL: Not to worry, my boy. I don’t think anyone else did. So… may I ask what the trouble is?
(NATHANIEL struggles with it a moment, and then relents.)
NATHANIEL: It’s a mess, Uncle. I can’t stop thinking about her.
THE COLONEL: Why a mess?
NATHANIEL: Because she’s Justin’s sweetheart.
THE COLONEL: Is she indeed? I’ve never known your brother to settle on any one girl.
NATHANIEL: Clara’s not just any girl, Uncle. Believe me.
THE COLONEL: I know what you mean.
NATHANIEL: She’s clever and funny and ever such good company.
THE COLONEL: And very pretty, I noticed.
NATHANIEL: Well, yes. That too.
THE COLONEL: You can’t be blamed for noticing her.
NATHANIEL: But it’s more than that. I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t sleep. And I can’t bear the sight of them together. It’s driving me mad, Uncle.
THE COLONEL: Oh, goodness. That does sound serious.
NATHANIEL: I know I ought let go of it all! She likes Justin, not me. I don’t mean to wish him ill. But...
THE COLONEL: Nathaniel…
NATHANIEL: I know what you’re about to say! I must… find some way to let it go— let her go. Forget baser impulses, be a gentleman, for decency’s sake. Think of family harmony. Stiff upper lip and all that! Isn’t that it?
(Pause.)
THE COLONEL: No. No, son. Not at all.
NATHANIEL: I beg your pardon?
(THE COLONEL lays a hand on his shoulder.)
THE COLONEL: My dear boy, you mustn’t be hard on yourself. If one thing is certain, a chap can’t help where he falls in love.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL: By Jove. Is that it, then? Have I… am I…?
THE COLONEL: From the sound of it. But only you can say for certain. What do you think?
(NATHANIEL sighs deeply and hangs his head.)
NATHANIEL: Uncle… I think I am in trouble.
(THE COLONEL stands and collects a brandy decanter from a sideboard. He returns to sit beside the boy and pours two glasses. He slides one over to NATHANIEL, who takes it.)
NATHANIEL: What am I to do?
THE COLONEL: Son, I wish I knew to tell you.
While version one of that piece is complete, I never finished editing that story, since other projects became more pressing. But it was an interesting experiment in telling other pieces of the story which will never be able to feature in the full-length plays. Not to mention a chance for me to practice my rather atrophied prose muscles, which are probably good for me to keep in practice, even though drama is my focus. I plan on sharing that story when it's finished, but it still needs a pretty serious editing pass before I do that.
I bring that up because I thought that brief moment mentioned in that story between Nathaniel and the Colonel might make a good focus for today's scene. Imagining exactly what their interactions were like is really useful to understanding how Nathaniel has the rosy impression of his uncle that he does, and giving context to how he remembers him.
On top of that, I like the small ways it's revealing of the Colonel. It's easy to see how Nathaniel doesn't realize what his uncle is communicating to him— as a self-centered kid in pain, he's not in a good place to be perceptive —but the Colonel offers a sympathy to his nephew's plight that speaks to what Reginald himself feels about what he's gone through.
Also, it's fun to imagine what a lovesick, nineteen-year-old Nathaniel was like. 😁
Day #23 - "What a Man Can't Help"
By Phoebe Roberts
THE COLONEL, decorated war hero Reginald Prescott Hawking, late forties
NATHANIEL HAWKING, his nephew, late teens
London, England, 1874
~~~
(A teenaged NATHANIEL mopes in the study. Enter his Uncle Reginald, THE COLONEL.)
THE COLONEL: Ah, here you are.
NATHANIEL: Just wanted a bit of quiet, Uncle.
THE COLONEL: I see. You were quiet at dinner.
NATHANIEL: Ah— was I?
THE COLONEL: Forgive me, but that’s a rare enough occurrence to take notice.
NATHANIEL: Heh, I suppose so.
THE COLONEL: Not to worry; you come by it honestly from your father. I thought I’d ask, is everything all right, then?
NATHANIEL: What? Of course.
THE COLONEL: Are you quite sure?
NATHANIEL: Why wouldn’t I be?
THE COLONEL: Am I wrong tonight in thinking that you don’t seem to be yourself?
NATHANIEL: It’s nothing, Uncle.
THE COLONEL: Indeed? Because I could have sworn you spent the evening stealing glances at that young lady who was Justin’s guest. I wondered if that might have something to do with it.
NATHANIEL: You— you saw that?
THE COLONEL: Not to worry, my boy. I don’t think anyone else did. So… may I ask what the trouble is?
(NATHANIEL struggles with it a moment, and then relents.)
NATHANIEL: It’s a mess, Uncle. I can’t stop thinking about her.
THE COLONEL: Why a mess?
NATHANIEL: Because she’s Justin’s sweetheart.
THE COLONEL: Is she indeed? I’ve never known your brother to settle on any one girl.
NATHANIEL: Clara’s not just any girl, Uncle. Believe me.
THE COLONEL: I know what you mean.
NATHANIEL: She’s clever and funny and ever such good company.
THE COLONEL: And very pretty, I noticed.
NATHANIEL: Well, yes. That too.
THE COLONEL: You can’t be blamed for noticing her.
NATHANIEL: But it’s more than that. I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t sleep. And I can’t bear the sight of them together. It’s driving me mad, Uncle.
THE COLONEL: Oh, goodness. That does sound serious.
NATHANIEL: I know I ought let go of it all! She likes Justin, not me. I don’t mean to wish him ill. But...
THE COLONEL: Nathaniel…
NATHANIEL: I know what you’re about to say! I must… find some way to let it go— let her go. Forget baser impulses, be a gentleman, for decency’s sake. Think of family harmony. Stiff upper lip and all that! Isn’t that it?
(Pause.)
THE COLONEL: No. No, son. Not at all.
NATHANIEL: I beg your pardon?
(THE COLONEL lays a hand on his shoulder.)
THE COLONEL: My dear boy, you mustn’t be hard on yourself. If one thing is certain, a chap can’t help where he falls in love.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL: By Jove. Is that it, then? Have I… am I…?
THE COLONEL: From the sound of it. But only you can say for certain. What do you think?
(NATHANIEL sighs deeply and hangs his head.)
NATHANIEL: Uncle… I think I am in trouble.
(THE COLONEL stands and collects a brandy decanter from a sideboard. He returns to sit beside the boy and pours two glasses. He slides one over to NATHANIEL, who takes it.)
NATHANIEL: What am I to do?
THE COLONEL: Son, I wish I knew to tell you.
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