IN CONVERSATION WITH: Toby Thompson

Reading Time: 3 minutes

We caught up with writer and performer Toby Thompson to hear more about his poetic take on the beloved classic The Little Prince, which is heading to Pleasance Courtyard this August. For tickets head to https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/the-little-prince

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What first drew you to The Little Prince as a story you wanted to adapt for the stage?

Honestly, the theatre in Bath suggested it to me, sometime during the first lockdown. I was living in Normandy and had only a vague recollection of the story from childhood. I remember downloading the audiobook, going out into the garden, pottering a winding path among the birch trees, and listening to the whole two hours straight through. The story struck a deep chord; I actually had tears streaming down my face for the final scenes. And they were the sorts of tears that are infused with happiness, sadness, and with everything in between. Of course I said yes. I’d give adapting this story a go. 

How do you balance the serious philosophical themes of the book with humour and fun on stage?

Good question. I’m not sure we’ve so much balanced them as put them through a blender and made ourselves a smoothie. I mean one of the philosophical themes of the book is precisely that seriousness isn’t the same as importance; just as more doesn’t equal better, and sad is not the same as bad. I think humour and depth can live alongside one another very harmoniously, and in my favourite pieces of theatre, they tend to. A big part of what I love about this story is that it holds opposites in harmony. It’s why sunsets are central, because they’re so inherently bitter and sweet and the same time.

You’ve performed around the world. What do you think makes this story so universally resonant? Can you picture touring this internationally too?

I actually just got back from performing thirty one Little Prince shows in China! The script was translated and we had live surtitles built into the set. I was amazed and relieved by the warmth of the response. I don’t know quite what makes The Little Prince so universally loved. I mean I know all the reasons why I love it, but it’s the second most translated book after the bible, that’s crazy. I think there’s a resonance of truth that runs through the story and lands in a special way. It’s fiction, but Antoine the author really did crash in the desert and really did nearly die. The real and the imagined dance together in patterns that somehow mirror our experience of being in the world. There’s my two cents anyway. 

In today’s climate crisis, stories about connection and responsibility feel more urgent than ever. How does The Little Prince inspire conversations about our role in protecting the environment and each other?

There’s a line in our retelling, spoken by the little prince in reference to planet earth: “… and there’s no one else to talk to for millions of light years in every direction. It’s like a well in the desert, it keeps you alive, it’s like a well in a desert made of stars instead of sand. I feel very lucky to have found it.” There’s something about the cosmic scale of this story which invites a sense of awe. And I believe awe and wonder are indispensable to us in this time of crisis, that it’s a prerequisite for hope that our hearts be open to the dizzying majesty of it all.

When did you first discover poetry, and what drew you to it as a form of expression? Has your relationship with poetry evolved over time at all?

I’ve always loved music and I’ve always loved language. Poetry is the child of each, so of course I adore it too. One big shift in my relationship to poetry came when I began memorising other people’s poems. I started doing just ten minutes’ learning most nights. It’s hardly a novel idea, but learning poems ‘by heart’ has allowed for so much more intimacy between me and the poems I encounter in the world. Page poems used to feel distant to me. Now I see them as scripts that I’ve yet to learn. Or as recipes I’m yet to cook. I’ve come to learn that the magic isn’t in the poem, it’s in the relationship the poem and I form together. 

And finally, what are you most looking forward to about performing at the Fringe this year?

The sense of newness and nostalgia mingling in me. My last experience of the Fringe was in 2018. I was at the Pleasance then too and it was joyful. I’m looking forward to stepping into some fond old memories whilst at the very same time forming a bunch of new ones.