Caryl Churchill – Form experimentation

London, 1982. The audience at the Royal Court Theatre murmurs with anticipation as they open their programs to an unusual page: a dinner menu and biographies of characters who span centuries. Soon the lights dim, and on stage an epic dinner party springs to life. Around a long, glittering table sit women from different times and places: there’s Isabella Bird, a Victorian era explorer in her proper jacket; Lady Nijo, a 13th-century Japanese courtesan-turned-nun, in a kimono; Pope Joan, the legendary female Pope of the 9th century, in full pontifical robes; Patient Griselda, the obedient wife from medieval folklore, in peasant garb; and others including a brash waitress who is actually a character from Chaucer. Presiding among them is Marlene, a sharp-suited 1980s career woman who has apparently invited these ladies of history to celebrate her promotion at work. What follows in Top Girls’ opening act is a theatrical feast—wine is poured, stories are shared. The women talk over each other, interrupting and laughing, their dialogue overlapping like a real lively dinner (an innovation in scriptwriting, those overlapping lines marked by slashes in the text). They share tales of childbirth, loss, sacrifice, ambition. Pope Joan recounts how she concealed her female identity to rise in the Church, only to be stoned to death when discovered; Lady Nijo recalls the heartbreak of giving up her children in the Emperor’s court. As the courses progress, the stories become more intimate and tragic, even as some of the women drunkenly giggle. Marlene listens, cheers, occasionally shares her own boasts of the modern successes women can achieve. By scene’s end, Isabella Bird is slumped under the table drunk, Patient Griselda is quietly weeping, and Marlene toasts to their courage across time.