Mrs. Caliban
In a few weeks, I’ll be starting rehearsals for The Tempest at Martha’s Vineyard Playhouse. Yesterday, I memorized my first line.
“All hail, great master; grave sir, hail! I come to answer thy best pleasure, be’t to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curled clouds. To thy strongest bidding, task Ariel and all her quality.”
I typed that from memory so I hope I got it right. I only mention it, because it’s a nice segue into talking about a book I love.
Have any of you read the short novella Mrs. Caliban by Rachel Ingalls? Here’s the cover:
Early this year I walked into Dove & Hudson, a used bookstore in Albany, NY.
I wasn’t looking for a book to buy, I was simply killing time. But, how could I pass up the opportunity to take this book home with me? Do you see this cover?
Mrs. Caliban’s spine is tiny, barely noticeable among the flashier, thicker books’ spines. And yet, something that day psychically guided me to find it, and pull it off the shelf. I swear, my hand moved toward it with a godlike knowing.
Just look at it.
It baffles me that this book isn’t a “classic.” Short, smart, and wonderfully endearing, it tells the story of a neglected wife and a giant, scaly frog-man on the lam from local government.
Read if you like Harold Pinter and have a sense of wonder.
And tell me what you think.
xoxo, Anna