Was there ever a better analogy for social stratification than the Royal Mile during the Edinburgh Fringe? A teeming mass, a melee of desperation and showing off.
Almost Ballardian in scale,the crowd works as a guide to life itself. Firstly ,there are curious American tourists. They stop suddenly, a propos of nothing and go, “Gee Eleanor, there sure are a lotta people. Where are we? Got the map?” even though they’re positioned right next to the sign reading Royal Mile. Eleanor, keeping a mental ledger in her brain of all the times Chad has asked this, elbows a stray critic in the face with a wild gesticulation of protest. The critic sighs, cursing to the sky. They’re on their third show, and it’s only midday. Will they be paid in time next month?
Students, loud Oxbridge types, declare their new revival of ‘The Tempest’ to be “a radical triumph… Four stars from Broadway Baby”. They’re blissfully unaware that Broadway Baby award most shows four stars, thus de-legitimising the whole star rating system.
Another English kid, volunteer but RADA trained, announces,”Free comedy! You’ll laugh! You’ll think! You’ll overthink! You’ll never see bipolar the same way again”. He should know. In exactly two years’ time he’ll be found dead in cheap digs, following a show that bombed, having believed himself invincible in a manic state, only to perform to ten people.
The Japanese tourists photograph everything, especially the tartan tourist shit, seeing a parallel between this plastic tat and kawaii culture. It’s ironic. It’s semi-ironic . Is irony a factor when it’s this expensive? Yukimi isn’t sure, but this Nessie fridge magnet is so cute.
And somewhere, caught in the crowds, someone, an actor/standup, will have broken through. The contract will be inked, the Netflix series revered. And for that one moment, after that phone call, they will be validated. The universe is twinkling for them and them alone. They smile to themselves, an inner hug maybe, to accompany this warm rush of wellbeing.
Then Chad will, walking backwards for a selfie, crash into this lucky actor. And the whole cosmic improvised dance starts all over again.
Hit The North 