Week Twenty-Nine: King Neptune's Carnival

All I can say after reading Cokesbury’s King Neptune’s Carnival is this:

William Wyler would be proud.

Talk about spectacle. Talk about sweeping drama. Talk about a cast of thousands, or at least dozens, in period costumes that look as new as if they’d just come off the loom even though we’re suppose to believe the folks in them have been wearing them for years. And talk about a party for which you’ll have to dragoon at least 50 friends – but who has that many; better dig deeply into your pile of Facebook acquaintances – to produce a poolside spectacle not seen since the likes of the Rowing Scene in Ben-Hur:

This will be no mere vaudevillian telling of the story of Neptune and his nubile mermaids, farting about on the shore or in the water in costumes that look like they were ripped off of curtain rods. Nay, this will be an Esther Williamsesque spectacle complete with snazzy jazz bands, impetuously looming trumpet horns (It’s a damn good thing this movie wasn’t filmed in 3-D as the first few seconds would have killed folks):

Or, since it’s being put on by you and your friends on a shoestring budget and, let’s face it, half-assed and at the last minute, it’ll probably look something like this:

Anyway, have fun.

First, the Cast of Thousands. At minimum, this is what Cokesbury says you need:

• King Neptune – Long gray beard and hair; greenish draperies; gold crown; trident.
• Mermaids and Mermen – In bathing suits.
• Tree Princess – Green costumes.
• Sea Prince – Sea-green draperies, etc.
• Mr. World, Mrs. World, Sister World, Brother World – Typical family in street costumes.
• Davy Jones – Rakish sailor suit; black patch over eye; red nose; cocked hat.
• Swimming Instructor – A typical pool instructor in bathrobe and wooden clogs.
• Mr. Stonehatchet, Mrs. Stonehatchet, Sammie Stonehatchet, Susie Stonehatchet – Cave dwellers of the stone age; simulated animal skin costume over bathing suit; man carries stone ax or club.
• Greek youth and Maiden – Short white slips; girl has ribbon-bound hair; sandals.
• Cassius and Caesar – Roman soldiers; silver cloth suit over bathing suit; silvered helmet. (May be made of gauze hat fram painted with aluminum paint.)
• William Trudgeon – Old-fashioned English bathing suit; with sleeves (short) and skirt; has sideburns or long chop whiskers.
• Richard Cavill and Two Opponents – Dressed in old-fashioned bathing suits.
• Dignified Swimmer – To swim side overarm stroke.
• American Crawl Swimmer – To swim crawl.
• European Backstroke Swimmer.
• American Backstroke Swimmer.

Warned you you’ll need a lot of friends. A lot of pool-worthy, sea-worthy friends who don’t mind reciting dialogue that likely inspired George Lucas to his Star Wars heights.

But more on that in a moment. First, you need the setting:

An ideal setting for such a pageant or water carnival as the one described in this chapter would be a pool where guests could be seated on the edge to watch the proceedings. It might be presented as a money-making program and admission charged or merely as an entertainment program. Such a program would be ideal for a civic club picnic program or a church Sunday school picnic. If the pool was lighted, it would be better to have it at night.

Yes, best have it at night. The effect of watching Neptune rise out of the water, fighting the drippiness and overall sagginess and sogginess of his grey hair and bears as he has to deliver his lines in the best imitation of Grand Moff Tarkin is probably best done against a dark background with spot illumination. That’s why the Death Star interiors are mostly black, you see.

Cokesbury has thoughtfully provided synopses of the five “episodes” which your friends will have to painstakingly rehearse and memorize:

Episode No. 1 – Mr. and Mrs. World come to the pool to find out about getting swimming lessons for their children. They begin to discuss the origin of swimming and are surprised by Father Neptune, who appears suddenly in the center of the pool. Neptune declares that he has a wonderful manuscript compiled by Davy Jones, which gives the history of swimming. He calls Davy Jones, who brings the manuscript. While Neptune reads aloud the history of swimming, shades of the departed swimmers he mentions appear and go through the actions and events credited to them in the manuscript.

This episode, of course, is accompanied not by a jazz band but by random thumps, yelps and splashes as your guests, seated on tenterhooks around the edge of the pool, nod off and either fall to the ground or into the water because the history is so boring. An excerpt from King/Father Neptune’s soliloquy on the history of swimming: 

Pictures on the walls of ancient tombs and on pottery show that very early in the world’s history swimming was practiced by various peoples. In fact, an alternate overarm stroke was practices by the Assyrians. Records also show that these people crossed streams on inflated goat-skins, which they called “musseks.” It is conceivable that this stroke was developed because they found themselves better able to pull themselves along by alternate strokes than by the rowing motion. It is quite possible, too, that other slipped from their inflated skin bags, which were the early water wings, and in reaching for them alternately developed the ability to do without them. So we will picture for you a group of Assyriansddkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

Sorry. Drifted off for a moment there. Have a bad case of Keyboard Face. But you get the point. Dull as if the Trade Federation were about to pump the waiting room full of poisoned gas. And, of course, now we know why no sailor ever wants to visit Davy Jones’ locker: He makes them read his manuscripts.

The vignettes, acted out by your pressganged friends, may allow for a little more entertainment value but still border on the farcical. For Cassius and Caesar, for example, Neptune recites a bit of Cassius’ tale from the second scene of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, which your friends are encouraged to act out:

I was born free as Caesar; so were you:

We both have fed as well, and we can both
Endure the winter's cold as well as he:
For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
Caesar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in
And bade him follow; so indeed he did.
The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews, throwing it aside
And stemming it with hearts of controversy;
But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
Caesar cried 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!'
I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber
Did I the tired Caesar.

As Neptune “declaims” these lines, or so Cokesbury says, “Cassius and Caesar enter through the portal in light armor and swords and enact the scene in the water, Cassius rescuing Caesar, towing him to shallow water and bringing him out with the saddleback carry.”

And it goes on like this. Episode Two consists of mermaids and mermen paying tribute to King Neptune as he ascends to his throne. Episode Three has the mermaids and mermen compete in races, “demonstrating graceful aquatic accomplishments,” and an umbrella and nightshirt race (of which, I might add, no explanation is given).

Episode No. 4 starts out promising, but degrades into a Red Cross swimming rescue lesson:

The Tree Princess and the Sea Prince. Mermen and mermaids resting on an enchanted island. The Tree Princess descends from her tree castle and is discovered by the surprised sea nymphs. Sea nymphs welcome her and invite her to her castle beneath the sea.

Prince Neptune, heir to the sea throne, falls in love with the Tree Princess, who scorns his advances. Frightened by his pursuit, the Tree Princess flees in anger. In her haste she falls into the water of the lake. Having lived her life in the trees, she is unfamiliar with the art of swimming and sinks beneath the waves. Prince Neptune immediately dives and in making the rescue demonstrates the holds, breaks, and carries used in saving drowning persons. After bringing the apparently drowned Princess to the shore, the Prince restores her to consciousness, using the prone pressure method of resuscitation.

Grateful for her rescue, she accepts the proposal of the Prince, and accompanied by the sea nymphs, the Prince takes the Tree Princess to his father, King Neptune, who bestows his paternal blessing. They then go to his castle beneath the sea and live happily forever after.

I dunno. Needs more Hasselhoff.

All that’s left now are the refreshments, and what says King Neptune’s Carnival better than a box lunch consisting of a ham sandwich, a pimento cheese sandwich, a cup of potato salad, a deviled egg, and a cup cake? Well, maybe watermelon instead of the cup cake.

What would be better? Well, practically everything.

Anyway, be sure to tune in next week when Cokesbury presents another costume spectacular, the Old-Fashioned Party. Dust off your hoop skirts and get rats in your pompadore, buddy.