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atropos_lee's journal
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This is more an appeal for imaginative brainstorming by community members, rather facts or details. It's an event that never actually took place, and as such it is a detail which is not easily searchable. I have a character who is about to be hung, in front of a large crowd, at Tyburn, in the spring of 1740 - and I want him to be successfully rescued by a gang of street performers. As a theatre director I have been involved in faked hangings on stage. I've researched the reality of early 18th Century hanging in some depth over the past 5 years - I've a walked the route from Newgate to Tyburn, and examined the skeleton of Jonathan Wild,(hung 1724) as part of research into the effects of short-drop hanging. I have spent happy hours with a magnifying glass studying Hogarth's print of the Idle Apprentice at Tyburn. I have read the Newgate Calendar and tracked the careers of at least three attested survivors of bodged hangings. But these were accidental survivals, when the drop went wrong and the hangee revived sometime afterward, and I am creating a purely fictional scenario in which the hangee is rescued by his gang. Here are the resources the gang have to hand. 1.) The condemned man, Quin, is smaller and lighter than average, and so would survive a short-drop hanging longer unless his friends can get to his legs and pull to shorten his death agony. He has successful escaped three times from custody in the previous 6 months - and as a result is being carefully guarded and the gang will find it hard to alert him of their plan to save him. 2.) The gang are the 18th Century equivalent of circus performers, so have access to special skills, props, illusions.; So far I have a sword swallower, a contortionist, a strong person, a giant, a crippled slackrope walker with professional knowledge of rope, puppeteers and actors, etc, etc. 3.) They also the co-operation of a young surgeon with access to the room in which the "dead man" will be brought to be dissected, and access to money and a private carriage to smuggle him out of London once he has been revived. At present the scenario runs as follows: A) - At the moment before Quin is turned off the cart to hang, some of the gang stage a diversion in the crowd, planned by a conjurer, to "mis-direct" the hangman's attention at a crucial point. B.) ***One of the street performers uses his/her specialism to interfere with the hanging in increase the odds of Quin surviving despite being unable to communicate the details to him in advance*** B) - The Stong man and/or Giant fight their way to the foot of the gallows and appears to be tugging on Quin's legs to kill him, while in fact supporting him. C.) The unconscious corpse is snatched and sold to the surgeon, who successfully revives him on the slab and provides a substitute corpse to dissect in public to cover Quin's complete disappearance. Back to B - As far as I know no gang of street performers has ever actually secretly rescued a man from a public hanging, so it's not directly searchable. This is where imagination and lateral thinking has a part to play. I'd like to compile as wild and wide a list as possible for circus-type skills which might be put use in this scenario, and I would like to harness the wilder imaginations of this community to do it! |
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... somewhere, somehow, somewhen... out of the pocket of a big coat borrowed by two people and finally found (sans keys) in a neighbours house. A locksmith is required - one who doesn't mind climbing the last mile to the |
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The real breakthrough was recognising the problem in the first point - for which I have to thank Scrivener, which I only installed a few weeks ago. Being able to break the outline down into smaller and smaller units without having to juggle dozens of new documents was the key to identifying the lack of jeopardy in the third act, and start the process of finding a solution. And as is almost always the case, solution is to be found somewhere in the In other news - the office Intern had the classic office party experience. He I've made him tea. |
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I've been quietly collecting 18th Sailing Navy related Christmas decorations for what almost 10 years, and never had the chance to pull them out - until today. So far I have 2 dashing captains in dress uniform (they are actually nelsons) 3 gold frigates 1 ship of the line a silver nutmeg of consolation 6 small terrestrial globes 10 drums (to beat to quarters, obviously) bags of coins as prize money lots of sugar rats Any other suggestions? I'll try to make little signal flags, and some sealed orders, and bake ships biscuits in the slow oven overnight. Now I'm on the look out for ship's lanterns, weevils (lesser and greater), a debauched sloth, some duff (double-shotted), tortoises (Testudo Aubreii, natch) and, of course, some boobies. There is a sort of connection to the stone caravan; although the valley is landlocked great parcels of bleak fell and bog were gifted at some point Greenwich Hospital, who, with the peace of 1814, thought it would be an excellent idea to recycle their surplus of naval chaplains in the local livings. The poor sots were translated from the warm intensely crowded debauched fug of the wardroom into isolated hamlets 30-40 miles ride from the nearest town, where their entire congregation would consist of nine shepherds and their dogs, and where months might pass without a single visitor. Most - already accustomed to drinking a pint of grog a day - turned to drink and went mad. |
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... moths have munched their way through my new (second hand) cashmere sweater, which I was relying on to keep me warm over Christmas, while it was in the ironing basket. And the knitted donkey made for my first ever Christmas. On a tangent, I'm reading Ellroy's alternative American history, "The Cold Six |
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Here it last is the bone of the problem with my story, the hard rotten core in which I keep chipping my teeth. In the first working draft "Paul" was smuggling political dissidents and refuges out of the city in the expectation of a government crackdown. The stakes were therefore exceptionally high; if "Lily" inadvertently revealed during interrogation information that led back to "Paul", he would lose not only his freedom, his career, possibly his life, but also his ability to protect his family. So he mistranslated her confession to deflect attention away from his involvement. Alas, further research, plus condensing the material so that it would cohere as cinema made "Paul the people-smuggler" a non-starter. Not so much because he couldn't or wouldn't have got involved, but because I couldn't see how "Lily the forger" could have knowledge of it. And the 3rd Act no longer worked, because everyone was behaving badly without sufficient motive. The stakes were just not that high for Paul any more, and he came across as a neurotic shit. Every thing I have tried to invoke to replicate that original jeopardy - without making the story over-complex* - has failed. (*Good film is simple, not simplistic. The emotional journey can be complex, the obstacles can be complex, but the hook for the story is simple.) |
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I seem to have come over all innocently ridiculously Christmassy this year. I find myself this morning sneaking into the office at 7.30am to heap And I have an audio version of A Christmas Carol on my MP3 and took it to Oh, well, I'm sure it will wear off and normal grinchy-ness will resume before |
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... if you call me at 7.05am on a monday morning for a "chat", and don't pick up the "It's lovely but it's not a good time..." hint, while I try to wrangle my knickers on onehanded, well, then: I DON'T get to dry my hair - I DO get to travel to work, in November, with wet hair and the start of a chill headache; I DON'T get a seat on the 7.15 train - I DO get to stand on the 7.55 train with my nose in someones armpit; I DON'T get an hour of writing done before work - I DO get to rush into work 5 minutes late (and with wet hair); I DON'T get to check my bag before I run out of the house - I DO manage to leave without my purse, and therefore without breakfast*. Or Lunch. Or Tea. Or, even (as the fridge is empty after my weekend away) Dinner. It's my fault. We should talk more often. I must arrange proper call times for catch up chats. But not at 7.05am on a Monday morning. Please. (Thank you the lovely man in the new coffee shop made me cappuccino anyway. I love you and I will buy coffee from you every monday for at least a year) |
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All trumped by the need for transport. Since the family moved over the river the cottage is one to one-and-a-half And the landrover I borrow from time to time is heading west. So - the next BIG expense is a road-legal quad bike. Which (let's face it) is MUCH MORE FUN! |
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