I started taking a one-on-one acting class a few months ago with a friend, and decided that this Halloween I would turn my talents to reciting The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe.
Most readings of the famous poem are by men, and they’re just straight-up narration. Not much acting, at all. My take was to act it out as if it were a monologue. So, I had to come up with a character. I didn’t have much time to hone a character, but few voice actors do have that time. Hopefully, the more practice I get, the more intuitive and off the wall choices I’ll make. This read was more me than any character.
The Raven, though narrating a scene taking place in a bed chamber, takes place elsewhere. That was my first task. It’s not clear where I am while I’m recounting this story, and who I’m declaring it to. So why not get weird with it?
I imagined I was in some purgatory, like in Sleepy Hollow. Misty trees, shadowy figures surround my own personal mourning. But I keep forgetting my life before. With each memory fading, I try to recapture it by reciting it. What happened? Why am I stuck here?And the most important memory of all: who sent me here? The Raven.
With that in mind, I didn’t start with the typical, moody, “It was a dark and stormy night,” instead, I was catching my breath, catching a memory, encoding it in my mind. I had to struggle to remember that night, the night the Raven came to perch upon the pallid bust of Pallas above my chamber door.
While my voice pretty much stayed close to my own, I did attempt some characterization. It’s very clear that my character is more paranoid than tin-foil hatted conspiracy theorist. She gets spooked by some rustling curtains! Someone paranoid is always listening, always hyper-aware, so I made her speech stilted, with ellipses between words. In those ellipses was a sophisticated radar searching for any paranormal activity.
It was also clear that my character is deeply depressed, so she talks heavily and slowly. Each breath costs her something. I wish I had really emphasized that in my conversation with the bird. But many of us have a tendency to rush when we speak!
Each stanza was marked with a prompt – to remember, to hope for the impossible, to condescend, to be surprised. These helped set the mood so I remembered where I was in the story, and not get carried away with odd fancies.
Armed with all this research (plus more, of course) I got into the booth more prepared that I’d ever been in any role, no matter how small! It was an invigorating feeling giving life (or death!) to this character. Privately, I’ve told friends that I don’t really feel anything when I act, no matter the emotional weight of my words. But this time, I really felt something. With more practice, I’ll feel more.
Until next time…
Yours in mysteriousness,
AISHA
PS I scored the narration, too. That’s for another post!