Culture

The unflinching inner life of a girl growing up

Eimear McBride’s astonishing novel is transformed into an empowering performance

The unflinching inner life of a girl growing up

The audience sits calmly, unaware of the storm that is poised to strike.

A single figure stands on stage in pyjamas. There are no other voices in this narrative, no props or distractions. The only ornament of this stage is just a girl, half-formed.

She is a stranger just yet.

By the end, we know her story intimately – we know her intimately. If we look hard enough, we can even recognise a part of ourselves in her.

Based on Eimear McBride’s novel of the same name, A Girl is A Half-Formed Thing was adapted for the stage by Annie Ryan, and performed solo by Aoife Duffin. This play follows the journey of a girl from birth to the golden age of twenty. Told from the girl’s perspective, we hear a stream of thoughts and inner discourse as her life meanders into adulthood.

Far from the predictable coming of age story, this is about finding strength and fortitude in the face of a cruel reality. The girl is abandoned by her father shortly after birth. She must cope with a controlling mother and the everyday reality of her brother’s terminal illness. She is sexually abused by her uncle at 13. Sex becomes an escape and an anaesthetic for her. Her exploration shows that female sexuality is a powerful thing: both a crippling curse and a powerful gift for a young woman in today’s world.

Despite the manifold, she remains resilient in her search for meaning and a sense of self.

This is a play of striking simplicity. Most modern plays seem garish and superfluous. The bare stage becomes Aoife’s playground as she paints us a scene beyond the sparse set, mixing the bold outline of her body language with the more intricate brushstrokes of her speech. Although the language of the play is indicative of the its Irish roots, it doesn’t really matter where the story takes place; its narrative is distinctly universal.

The real magic comes from the masterful scripting. The syntax has a poetic rhythm to it, but ventures beyond the limits of literary convention. Surprisingly, her words remain relatable, maintaining an unflinching honesty. Like the girl in the title, her thoughts and her words are half-formed, fragmented, and hurled at us with no apology, fast and slow, hitting each point with searing precision.

The play tackles a much more general commentary on society, and childhood. It would be unjust to relegate this play to any single genre. Empowering for people of all genders, it demonstrates a great beauty in resilience.

An exceedingly experimental theatrical adaptation, A Girl is A Half Formed Thing is a play for a brave and pioneering audience. The subject matter can be emotionally demanding, and disorienting at first. However, it still rewards a loyal audience with a memorable and thought-provoking performance.

A Girl is a Half-formed Thing is on at the Young Vic until 26th March.