Trim the sails and roam the sea…

"One more step, Mr. Hands," said I, "and I'll blow your brains out!" Illustration by N.C. Wyeth for the 1911 edition of Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island. Image from the New Britain Museum of American Art, via Wikipedia.

Over the weekend I saw an excellent stage adaptation of Treasure Island, adapted and directed by B.H. Barry. Barry, of course, is a world-renowned fight choreographer, but this was his directing debut. Thanks to some lukewarm reviews I wasn’t expecting much beyond some excellent swordfighting (fine with me!), but I absolutely loved it.¹

In addition to solid performances, the show was beautifully staged–dynamic and exciting, with the same elegant grace Barry brings to all of his fights. Versatile set pieces and lighting left enough up to the imagination, while the costumes sent most of us attending into fits of jealousy. (Those coats!) But really, the best part was the songs–sea shanties that made the transitions something to look forward to. I found myself ever-so-slightly disappointed every time the scene had to begin again. (Thankfully my new thirst for sea shanties has been fed by the inimitable Megan Messinger, sea shanty-monger extraordinaire.)

Two things struck me while watching this, though. The first is that I desperately want to replay both Sid Meier’s Pirates!, one of my favorite addictive games, and The Secret of Monkey Island, less addictive if far more clever. The second is how much young adult fiction² has changed. Read more »