✓ Read ✓ The Real Inspector Hound and Other Plays by Tom Stoppard ↠´ babyandbeyondshow.co.uk

✓ Read ✓ The Real Inspector Hound and Other Plays by Tom Stoppard ↠´ My immediate takeaway when I finished was that it may be too absurdist for me.
But that doesn’t quite grasp the idea I was after.
From my limited experience with Stoppard, he is always playing with words, playing with meaning, playing with intent, and has no problem (perhaps prefers) to have his characters speaking at cross purposes.
What that does to a reader is leave them with a sense of whiplash and “what the heck just happened?” Or at least, that’s what happens when that reader is me.


The Real Inspector Hound is about theatre, critics, reality, and fate.
Or it is just a play about two people sitting around waiting for something to happen, like that other one.
This is early Stoppard, and I found his introduction to my edition most edifying about his process and what we received as a result.
He had bits and pieces of dialogue between the characters who would become Moon and Birdfoot, but they had no purpose.
He would come back to it over the years and eventually the device of the body on stage, and that body being Higgs catalyzed Stoppard into its completion.
Which makes sense to me that we ramble about a bit and then land on an ending.



full review: https://faintingviolet.
wordpress.
com/.
.
.


#cannonbookclub The Real Inspector Hound Tom Stoppard BabelioThe Real Inspector Hound Ou En Franais Qui Est Le Vritable Inspecteur Dupif Joue Sur Les Frontires Entre La Scne Et La Salle Tout En S Amusant Des Conventions Thtrales, Stoppard En Profite Pour Rgler Ses Comptes Avec La Corporation Des Critiques Dramatiques, Et Ce, De Manire Radicale The Real Inspector Hound Salle Pablo NerudaThe Real Inspector Hound Est Une Pice Courte En Un Acte Deux Critiques De Thtre Assistent La Premire D Une Pice Policire Pleine De RebondissementsThe Real Inspector Hound and Other PlaysNotRetrouvez The Real Inspector Hound and Other Plays Et Des Millions De Livres En Stock SurAchetez Neuf Ou D Occasion The Real Inspector Hound Wikipedia The Real Inspector Hound Is A Short, One Act Play By Tom Stoppard The Plot Follows Two Theatre Critics Named Moon And Birdboot Who Are Watching A Ludicrous Setup Of A Country House Murder Mystery, In The Style Of A Whodunit By Chance, They Become Involved In The Action Causing A Series Of Events That Parallel The Play They Are WatchingThe Real Inspector Hound Stoppard, Tom Livres NotRetrouvez The Real Inspector Hound Et Des Millions De Livres En Stock SurAchetez Neuf Ou D Occasion The Real Inspector Hound YouTube Backstage UTS Presents Tom Stoppard S The Real Inspector Hound Directed By Damon Meredith Callum Braithwaite Lachlan Bennett Sami Jo Adelman Lillian Radulo PDF The Real Inspector Hound and Other Plays Author Tom Stoppard Submitted By Jane Kivik Free Download Or read Online The Real Inspector Hound and Other Plays Pdf EPUB Book The First Edition Of The Novel Was Published In , And Was Written By Tom Stoppard The Book Was Published In Multiple Languages Including English, Consists Ofpages And Is Available In Paperback Format The Real Inspector Hound The Theater Of The Stoppard, The Author Of The Real Inspector Hound, Said, I Must Say I Didn T Know What The Word Existential Meant Until It Was Applied To Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are DeadAnd Even Now Existentialism Is Not A Philosophy I Find Either Attractive Or Plausible So begins a read and reread of second half twentieth century modern and postmodern drama.
This volume of Stoppard's earlier plays is a mixed bag.
The Real Inspector Hound held my interest although it is better to see the play performed rather than read the script.
After Magritte was the exact opposite.
These two plays are often performed as a double feature and in my experience After Magritte has been the second play performed at its detriment since audiences get their fill from The Real Inspector Hound and have become tired and cranky.
I found After Magritte more suited to a critical read where I could spend some moments considering the allusions before continuing with the play.
The other samplings weren't memorable from a present investigation.
I am honestly not entirely sure what I thought of this?

(NB: I only read The Real Inspector Hound, not any of the other plays.
)

On the one hand, it was a fun little one act play that took me around twenty minutes to read, and it made me laugh, and it made me go, what the hell? On the other hand, I'm 100% positive I missed things, and the cleverness of this play almost entirely went over my head.


I actually read this for Cannonball Read's quarterly online book club, and here's all I could think of to say in our discussion was a bunch of pretentious bullshit about the relationship between art and critics, which I then finished up with, "Or Stoppard could just be fucking with us.
" (Spoiler: there's a dead body on the stage the whole time which turns out to be a theater critic whose actual body (OR IS IT) is being used as a prop.
This is SIGNIFICANT.
)

The consensus seems to be that this play is both: Pretentious bullshit AND fucking with us.


I kinda dig it? I wish I could see it in person, though.
Maybe I'll track down that YouTube performance and see how it goes in its proper format .
.
.
My immediate takeaway when I finished was that it may be too absurdist for me.
But that doesn’t quite grasp the idea I was after.
From my limited experience with Stoppard, he is always playing with words, playing with meaning, playing with intent, and has no problem (perhaps prefers) to have his characters speaking at cross purposes.
What that does to a reader is leave them with a sense of whiplash and “what the heck just happened?” Or at least, that’s what happens when that reader is me.


The Real Inspector Hound is about theatre, critics, reality, and fate.
Or it is just a play about two people sitting around waiting for something to happen, like that other one.
This is early Stoppard, and I found his introduction to my edition most edifying about his process and what we received as a result.
He had bits and pieces of dialogue between the characters who would become Moon and Birdfoot, but they had no purpose.
He would come back to it over the years and eventually the device of the body on stage, and that body being Higgs catalyzed Stoppard into its completion.
Which makes sense to me that we ramble about a bit and then land on an ending.



full review: https://faintingviolet.
wordpress.
com/.
.
.


#cannonbookclub "This is LSD type stuff.
"Mrs Crook "This is LSD type stuff.
"Mrs Crook The Real Inspector Hound is one of Stoppard's finest plays, and this volume has quite a few more gems in it.
Hound is one of my favourites for it's blurring the lines between theatre and reality; we watch two critics watching a play who eventually get caught up in the action.
It's a comment on the banality of critical reviews, especially for the kind of drama that initially appears to be going on on stage.
I have found it as difficult to understand as I did twenty five years ago, but I like the development of the plot and how the characters move.
This collection of shorter works from the 1970s is among the better Tom Stoppard I've read.
The title piece, a sendup of Christiestyle whodunnits, is a seamless work of beauty which effectively blurs the line between performers, audience, and the critics who attempt to mediate between them.
Both a poke at the formulaic structure of "classic" murder mysteries as well as a dig at theater critics, "The Real Inspector Hound" is nonstop laughs.
Although the word "clever" is chronically overused, the mesh between Stoppard's plot and dialogue earns it here.


Much the same praise extends to "After Magritte," which succeeds in exemplifying that artist's work.
It toys with the dichotomy between appearance and reality, the subjective and the objective.
Specifically, the capacity to view one's self objectively is called into question, as is the inevitability of viewing others subjectively.


"Dirty Linen," is paired with "NewFoundLand," and the two form an inseparable whole.
Stoppard has managed to recycle the same setting for two very different stories, one taking place in the middle of the other.
Thus, "Dirty Linen," a study of sexual mores as they relate to people (not just men) in positions of power is, effectively, split into two scenes.
Between these appears "NewFoundLand," an hilarious concentrate of bad American stereotypes, somehow both accurate and ludicrously offbase at the same time.


The dog of the bunch here is "Dogg's Hamlet," which is a noble, but failed, experiment in the redefinition and understanding of language.
Stoppard effectively demonstrates how language is an act of collusion, but his point is made in the introduction, and the playing out of the scenario quickly becomes tedious as long streams of seemingly unrelated words fly past at a rapid pace.
Its companion piece, "Cahoot's Macbeth," is generally much more successful, painting a picture of the absurdity with which totalitarian regimes must live in constant terror of the power of words.
Unfortunately, because it is tied in directly to "Dogg's Hamlet," it cannot be separated from that piece in any meaningful way.
And by intertwining the two, the end of "Cahoot's Macbeth" comes off a bit muddled and perfunctory, like an engine suddenly running out of steam.


Despite the faults which "Dogg's Hamlet" introduces into this volume, based on its contents, it is clear that the overall quality of Stoppard's work during the 1970s was astonishing.
Fans of his work should be wellpleased.

This is actually the same book as Plays one, the first volume of the collected plays.
It contains four, five or six plays, depending on how you divide them (New FoundLand is embedded in Dirty Linen, and Dogg's Hamlet and Cahoot's Macbeth are so interconnected that they could hardly be performed separately.
) All are comedies with (intentionally) absurd plots.
The Real Inspector Hound, like Rosencranz and Guildenstern Are Dead, collapses the distinction between the play and the observer.
After Magritte recounts the aftermath of a visit to an exhibition of Magritte's art, and is filled with injokes about surrealist art; the plot is based on various perspectives on the same "event" which may not actually be an event at all.
Dirty Linen is a farce about the sexual habits of members of Parliament (it would work as well, with a little rewriting, for Congress) and the sensationalism of the press (I get the impression that the line between the "respectable" press and the tabloids is more permeable in Britain than here).
New FoundLand is embedded between the beginning and end of Dirty Linen, and is essentially a monologue of clichés about the United States.
Dogg's Hamlet consists of a fifteen minute version of Hamlet performed ostensibly by a student group, which speaks a language that consists of English words used with different meanings than in English (based on one of the language "games" in Wittgenstein's Philosophical Investigations); Cahoot's Macbeth is an homage to the Czech playwright Pavel Kahout, who performed an abridged version of Macbeth clandestinely during the period of "normalization" following the Prague Spring.
It consists of a brief version of Shakespeare similar to the Hamlet of the first play, interrupted by the police and by one of the characters from that play, which then reinterprets the linguistic theme in terms of the resistance to totalitarianism.
Stoppard is a playwright of ideas, and much of the fun in his comedies is in recognizing ideas and allusions under the absurdist disguise.
Tom StopHard's play on words is catching.
Plays 1: The Real Inspector House was great.
Good fun.
An hilarious whodunnit.
The companion play After Magritte was good fun as well.
I enjoyed Dirty Linen / NewFoundLand, which are a good send up of Parliamentary subcommittees.
All these so far read well on the page, and I imagine actors would have a great time in these plays.

The next two, Dogg's Hamlet and Cahoot's Macbeth are a companion piece.
Dogg's Hamlet has to play first.
I read half of this and I couldn't make any sense of it, so I didn't proceed to Cahoot's Macbeth.
I think these two plays have to be seen to understand it.
Probably very good though.
A bunch of absurd plays that explore language and meaning and the relationship between actor and audience.
I didn't enjoy reading any of them but I often found myself thinking about how much skill it would take to perform the plays and how it might be fun to watch them.
Each play is full of monologues that sound like complete nonsense without their context.
Most of the time it was a headache to read.
The Real Inspector Hound was first on the required reading list for my Postmodern Lit class and is part of the reason I dropped out.
I may not be smart enough to "get it," but I also don't want to be the kind of heartless snob that thinks this kind of literature is enjoyable.
Of the six plays in this collection, I would only consider rereading After Magritte.


CockleburySmythe: Your story smacks of desperation.
Even so you have done us the honour of volunteering your account, so let me reciprocate.
I was at various time at Crockford's, Claridges and the Golden Cock, Clock, the Old Clock in Golden Square, not to Coq d'Or.

Chamberlain: I was at the Crock of Gold, Selfridges and the Green Cockatoo.

McTeazle: I was at the Cockatoo, too, and the Charing Cross, the Open Door, the Golden Ox and the Cuckoo Clock.

Withenshaw: I was at the Cross Cook, the Fighting Cocks, the Green Door, the Crooked Grin and the Golden Carriages.

(What is happening is difficult to explain but probably quite easy to recognize: the four of them have instinctively joined in an obscuration, each for his own defence.
By the time the Chairman speaks they have all begun to send French up.
)
CockleburySmythe: I forgot—I was at the Golden Carriages as well as Claridges, and the Odd Sock and the Cocked Hat.

Withenshaw: I didn't see you at the Cocked Hat—I went on to the Cox and Box.

McTeazle: I was at the Cox and Box, and the Cocks Door, the Old Chest, the Dorchester, the Chesty Cook and—er—Luigi's.

All: Luigi's?
McTeazle: At King's Cross.

Chamberlain: I was at King's Cross; in the Cross Keys and the Coal Hole, the Golden Goose, the Coloured Coat and the Côte d'Azur.

(from Dirty Linen, p.
113114)

Charlie: (sings)Engage congratulate moreover state abysmal fairground.

Begat perambulate this aerodrome chocolate eclair found.

Maureen again dedumdeda ultimately cried the egg.

Dinosaurs rely indoors if satisfied egg.
.
.

(from Dogg's Hamlet, p.
151)

Easy: Blankets up middling if season stuck, after plugholes kettledrummed lightly A412 mildly Rickmansworth—clipped awful this water ice, zigzaggled—splash quarterly trainers as Micky Mouse snuffle—cup—evidently knickknacks quarantine only if bacteriologic waistcoats crumble pipe—sniffle then postbox but shazam!!!! Even platforms—dandy avuncular Donald Duck nevertheless minty magazines!
(from Cahoot's Macbeth, p.
203)
So begins a read and reread of second half twentieth century modern and postmodern drama.
This volume of Stoppard's earlier plays is a mixed bag.
The Real Inspector Hound held my interest although it is better to see the play performed rather than read the script.
After Magritte was the exact opposite.
These two plays are often performed as a double feature and in my experience After Magritte has been the second play performed at its detriment since audiences get their fill from The Real Inspector Hound and have become tired and cranky.
I found After Magritte more suited to a critical read where I could spend some moments considering the allusions before continuing with the play.
The other samplings weren't memorable from a present investigation.