Nell Leyshon

Glass Eels

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Late August down on the Somerset levels: deep in the water and the silt, something is moving, unfurling…
Suffused with the austere poetry of the West Country, Glass Eels tells the story of a girl's sexual awakening as she struggles to free herself from the shadows of her childhood and the stifling atmosphere of an all-male household.
Glass Eels was produced by Hampstead Theatre and the Brewhouse Theatre (Somerset) and premiered in June 2007.
This book is currently unavailable
53 printed pages
Original publication
2007
Publication year
2007
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Quotes

  • Rachael Pennellhas quoted8 years ago
    I stood there and tried to make her breathe again. Tried to make her chest move.

    Nothing happened.

    So I reached out and pulled her eyelids up, to get her to open her eyes and look at me. But her eyes had rolled back and there was just the whites.

    I tried to pull the lids back down but they had stuck.

    I had to go upstairs and into my dad’s room. I had to tell him to come with me, to see what I’d done.

    He followed me down and I showed him.

    He saw and then he turned and grabbed my arm, too tight.
    He shook me and screamed at me, told me I shouldn’t have gone in. And then he hit me. Here. (Touches face.)

    Some things that happen to you, you get them in here. (Touching head.) And you can’t get them out.

    I wish you could take it out so I didn’t have to remember it.
  • Rachael Pennellhas quoted8 years ago
    I started going down at night and if we had one in I’d lift the sheet from their faces.

    KENNETH: Did he know?

    LILY: No.

    I used to think if I looked at them long enough I could bring them back to life, make them breathe again.

    One night there was a new one there. I took the sheet and peeled it down. Stood and stared.

    It was my mother.

    KENNETH looks.

    No. Don’t look at me.

    It had happened late at night and no-one had woken me to tell me. That’s how I found out.

    Her skin was streaked with mud. Her hair still damp from the river. A piece of weed in it.

    Pause.
  • Rachael Pennellhas quoted8 years ago
    I started going down at night and if we had one in I’d lift the sheet from their faces.
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