Stimulus Text – Wise Children, Angela Carter (Carter, 1991)
Nellie Coss 133104
Reflection Plane
[seated, centre stage] Start of the summer holidays - a haphazard day of suitcase packing
and tired little ones. We set off at 6am for Stanstead Airport ready for an 8am flight to
sunny Spain. I remember shuddering to a kind of British morning air that is full of magic. For
the kids, anyway. For me, I was just hangry and in need of a nap. It was our second holiday
together as a family, but somehow it felt incomplete.
[stand] To my fellow mums, how do you do it? How are you raising your kids in a world of
elitism and classism and NOT feel guilty about not living in a four-bed detached with a
healthy trust-fund? [background action begins, ensemble forms two seated rows, two
children centre] I think that feeling stems from lack of self-assurance, [walk to child,
affectionate] but when I looked over at my youngest playing with the plastic toys an air
stewardess gave her because mum didn’t buy any for the journey, I couldn’t help but feel
like... I don’t know. [return] I felt I should’ve worked harder or more or be cruising as a CEO,
because on that plane, oh on that plane I felt my kids were missing out because of me.
Which is completely ludicrous because we were on that plane to go on holiday as a family,
[‘dad’ comforting children] to another part of the world to give the kids an experience to
remember and to create memories and spend time with each other, and I was there feeling
guilty because I felt that that wasn’t good enough for what they deserved. Oh, and it’s a…
plane! Who gets hung up about a plane!?
[seated, CS] I guess I feel this way because of my own upbringing. We, my parents, four
brothers and I, lived on the side of the city where I would cycle an extra 20 minutes around
the back way just to avoid going down the main road. The side where ‘neighbours’ meant
the people physically living next door, not friends, nor acquaintances. I haven’t spoken to
any of my four brothers since our childhood but all I know is that I’m sitting here in front of
you, complaining about middle-class extravagance.
After doing well for myself despite the circumstances, I ended up going to one of the best
Universities in the country, meeting my boyfriend and our bonkers flatmates, transforming
in the space of three years into my husband and best friends in the whole entire world. And
now we’re all having children of our own. And I think that’s what makes me feel this way.
Two beautiful souls that are going be moulded by me – that’s a heck of a responsibility. They
deserve everything and again, perhaps this arises because of my experience, but I just want
them to be happy. Yes, I know, they just want my love, not my money, but neither love nor
money could make me not want to provide both.
I’d definitely rather have a family who loves unconditionally than pays unconditionally. The
kids want my time and energy. Because what’s the point in buying them endless material
possessions if you’re not gonna play with them?
Nellie Coss 133104
Reflection Plane
[seated, centre stage] Start of the summer holidays - a haphazard day of suitcase packing
and tired little ones. We set off at 6am for Stanstead Airport ready for an 8am flight to
sunny Spain. I remember shuddering to a kind of British morning air that is full of magic. For
the kids, anyway. For me, I was just hangry and in need of a nap. It was our second holiday
together as a family, but somehow it felt incomplete.
[stand] To my fellow mums, how do you do it? How are you raising your kids in a world of
elitism and classism and NOT feel guilty about not living in a four-bed detached with a
healthy trust-fund? [background action begins, ensemble forms two seated rows, two
children centre] I think that feeling stems from lack of self-assurance, [walk to child,
affectionate] but when I looked over at my youngest playing with the plastic toys an air
stewardess gave her because mum didn’t buy any for the journey, I couldn’t help but feel
like... I don’t know. [return] I felt I should’ve worked harder or more or be cruising as a CEO,
because on that plane, oh on that plane I felt my kids were missing out because of me.
Which is completely ludicrous because we were on that plane to go on holiday as a family,
[‘dad’ comforting children] to another part of the world to give the kids an experience to
remember and to create memories and spend time with each other, and I was there feeling
guilty because I felt that that wasn’t good enough for what they deserved. Oh, and it’s a…
plane! Who gets hung up about a plane!?
[seated, CS] I guess I feel this way because of my own upbringing. We, my parents, four
brothers and I, lived on the side of the city where I would cycle an extra 20 minutes around
the back way just to avoid going down the main road. The side where ‘neighbours’ meant
the people physically living next door, not friends, nor acquaintances. I haven’t spoken to
any of my four brothers since our childhood but all I know is that I’m sitting here in front of
you, complaining about middle-class extravagance.
After doing well for myself despite the circumstances, I ended up going to one of the best
Universities in the country, meeting my boyfriend and our bonkers flatmates, transforming
in the space of three years into my husband and best friends in the whole entire world. And
now we’re all having children of our own. And I think that’s what makes me feel this way.
Two beautiful souls that are going be moulded by me – that’s a heck of a responsibility. They
deserve everything and again, perhaps this arises because of my experience, but I just want
them to be happy. Yes, I know, they just want my love, not my money, but neither love nor
money could make me not want to provide both.
I’d definitely rather have a family who loves unconditionally than pays unconditionally. The
kids want my time and energy. Because what’s the point in buying them endless material
possessions if you’re not gonna play with them?
