In the early 1730s, a young Welsh music teacher called James Parry had a raging affair with his pupil Mary Powell, a wealthy heiress. He hoped for marriage but was jilted by Mary; he was then pursued through the courts by her mother, and in 1741 published a vengeful memoir, The True Anti-Pamela. It is out of this that Julian Mitchell has fashioned a fascinating play that opens a new season in the Theatre Royal's studio, devoted to the transformation of literary material.
Like a lot of Mitchell's work, this combines class conflict with an account of life on the Welsh borders. The title of Parry's memoir is a reference to Samuel Richardson's 18th-century novel Pamela: Or, Virtue Rewarded, about the pursuit of a lower-class heroine; here, the boot is on the other foot as the putatively wealthy Mary plays provocatively with her teacher. But Mitchell also offers, with the aid of lightly sketched supporting characters, a vivid picture of the way sex relieves the monotony of small-town life in 18th-century Herefordshire.
With its adroit use of songs from The Beggar's Opera, as well as references to The Duchess of Malfi and The Maid's Honour, it is a quietly erudite piece. The only problem lies in the pretence at moral neutrality. We are invited to speculate as to who is the real victim: Parry, as an abused Welsh underling; or Mary, as prey to rapacious fortune-hunters. But, given that Mary insists on undergoing a mock marriage ceremony before she has sex with Parry, it is hard not see her as the dominating partner.
The love scenes could afford to be even steamier, but otherwise Matthew Lloyd's production pins down neatly the contrast between provincial propriety and animal instinct, and there are good performances all round. Sion Daniel Young occupies the stage with great confidence as Parry and sings beautifully; Peta Cornish has exactly the right mix of demureness and desire as Mary; and there is vital support from Geraldine Alexander as her pipe-smoking mum, and Edward Birch as a variety of characters including a stiff rural booby and a Balliol-bred poseur. But the evening's real pleasure lies in Mitchell's use of a forgotten memoir to explore the age-old intersection of sex and class.
