She might be a vegetarian, but she’s also the Gen-X meat in the inter-generational sandwich of the modern workplace. A mostly true, slightly made-up tale of thwarted ambition, underachievement, and a funeral in a library. A meditation on reading and an ode to life before the device.
“…clever, beautifully written … the booming laughter a testament to Crisp’s unique craft.”
Isabella Fowler | The Advertiser
Beginning life at Edinburgh Fringe as She’s Not Just Quiet … She’s Dead many many years ago, was the third show I wrote and performed at the Adelaide Fringe. (If you’re ever looking to feel better about being a slow writer, I think that was a gap of around ten years between its first rough beginnings as sub-standard stand-up comedy and its final emergence as a piece of polished theatre).
After Pearls and The Forgettory, this was a bit of a departure in style and content and moves a long way from memoir. I mean I was a librarian and I am now a funeral celebrant, but I’ve never held a funeral in a library. Given that we all went into lockdown only a week or so after the end of this season, I was really glad to have this memory of fun and silliness to carry me through.
Acknowledgements and Credits
Written and performed by Tracy Crisp
Directed by Maggie Wood
Love and support by Adrian Jones
First staged at The Bakehouse Theatre, Studio, Adelaide Fringe 2020
Image Meg Hansen
