Something Dark

Published Thursday 11 March 2004 at 13:25 by Lew Baxter

The sheer intimacy of poet Lemn Sissay’s performance underpins the power of this monologue that traces his roots from the brutal suburban landscape of Lancashire to the Gambia and Ethiopia. Delivered in a well-paced, riveting style it is a trail that ultimately leads to a further degree of desperation as he reveals the truth of his origins: the rape of his mother who was a student in Britain.

Brought up by foster parents and in care homes in the UK, the ironic twist is that his father was a middle class airline pilot from Ethiopia with connections to the movers and shakers in that country’s society.

It is a courageous person who can confront such stark reality, never mind parade it in front of an audience, although for Sissay it is presumably also a catharsis. And director John McGrath allows him the latitude to engage the audience in a dazzling display of bravura.

Sissay does not flinch from confiding his angst or his emotional turmoil but at times his eyes sparkle as he ruefully reflects on the vagaries of a life where constant jibes such as Snow Flake confused his adolescence.

Yet he unfolds what for many would be the final straw in self-discovery in a manner that encompasses wry humour, laced with a sardonic biting wit.

Indeed it would seem that his talent as a poet and performer are derived from the very depths of that self-analysis, although he was an adult when he first met his mother; she terrified that her ‘real’ family might discover the dark secret.