Published this year by Klabb Kotba Maltin, Skrapp u Skrapp & Co. Ltd u drammi oħra, with illustrations by Marisa Attard, features four plays that have been in the works since the 1980s. Iggy Fenech sits down with author Carmel Azzopardi to discover the story behind them.

As I waited outside a coffee shop in Valletta, I tried to think of any last minute questions I could add to my list.

I had never met writer Carmel Azzopardi before and I still was unsure about what the best angle to give this article would be.Azzopardi is one of Malta’s most prolific linguists; the author of books I used to use at school and of books my nephews now use at school, too.

His bibliography includes Gwida għall-Ortografija, Xpakka 1: Taħriġ fil-Malti għal studenti zgħar, and its follow-up, Xpakka 2.

He is also the man who created the Maratona tar-Roti, one of the first annual events organised by a government school aimed at giving back to the community.

Should I ask him about his love for the Maltese language. Or maybe I could ask him about his career in general… As I stood there thinking, my phone beeped.

Azzopardi had arrived.

We meet, shake hands and take refuge at the back of the coffee shop. As I got ready to ask my first question, Azzopardi took out a copy of his latest book, Skrapp u Skrapp & Co. Ltd u drammi oħra, took a deep breath and started telling me all about his passion for writing and drama.

“My first work was called Mewġ,” he says. “This was produced by myself at the Żebbuġ Boys’ Secondary school. It was not a formal play but a collage of movement, lights and music, which included four movements: a clean sea, a contaminated sea, a stormy sea and, finally, a clean and peaceful sea.

“It had a strong message in favour of the environment, implying the intervention of nature to correct the wrongdoings of man.”

Azzopardi went on to tell me about his other works prior to the 1980s, which included a piece called Ġwienaħ, aimed at teaching young actors and their audiences about the value of peace, the horrors of war and people’s lust for killing.

“When there’s war, no one goes hunting. They have people to shoot at,” he says as the waiter reaches our table.

It was in the 1980s, however, that Azzopardi had his big break with the birth of the four plays that made it into his latest creation.

This took place when he entered the school drama festival, in which judges would choose a number of plays to be put up at the Manoel Theatre.

“We entered the festival with a play I had penned called Żerniq, a full version of which can be found in the book,” he recalls.

I’ve always believed that a play for children should be fun. But it’s also important to teach them how their actions can, and will, affect others

“It’s about a group who take over a village church’s parvis and basically annoy the hell out of the locals.”

As time went on, Azzopardi was inspired to write Skrapp u Skrapp Co. Ltd, a play about two conmen whose job is to make sure their clients get exactly what they want, “in exchange for a handsome reward, of course,” says Azzopardi.

“This is still my favourite play and I loved writing and producing it,” he says. The play is fast moving, slick, funny, action-packed, and full of ingenious ploys and unexpected twists.

“The first time it was produced at the Lyceum in Ħamrun, the cast was made up of the sons of some big names in Malta’s theatre scene, and others who would go on to become great themselves.

“These included Vanni Riolo’s son, Bernard; Narcy Calamatta’s son, Matthew; Tony Cassar Darien’s son, Daniel, as well as Amadeo Galea and Colin Fitz.”

Later on, Azzopardi went on to write and produce Il-Prinċep Wiċċ id-Dawl, a play which he adapted from Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince. Inspired by the beauty of Wilde’s modern fairy tale, Azzopardi opted to write this play in verse, using simple but elegant language that evokes the poetic element found in the original.

The new editions of these plays are longer than the original versions, but they have retained that all-important formula that made them hits in the first place.

“I’ve always believed that a play for children should be fun,” he says.

“But it’s also important to teach future generations to think about the environment, politics, justice, good values and about how their actions can, and will, affect others.”

In the first Skrapp u Skrapp play, the two main characters (called Skrapp 1 and Skrapp 2), are commissioned by a baron to help him win a sporting contest and claim the princess’s hand in marriage. It shows – in a humorous way – the extent to which people will go to deceive one another, to cheat others, to possess that which isn’t theirs, and just how easy it can be to find help in doing all that.

More importantly, however, it also shows children that it’s never too late to redeem oneself, or to understand the importance of hard work, determination and fair play.

“The lessons are there, but they’re packaged in a funny and child-friendly play,” he says. An hour and a half into our chat, and I am still listening intently as Azzopardi explains the four stories and their meaning. Do not be fooled into thinking these plays are solely for children – they are quite ageless.

Yet, as we are about to call it a day, I couldn’t help but blurt out, “What do you think of this Netherlandiż business, then?”

He says: “I was acting head of the Maltese translation unit of the European Parliament in Luxemburg at the time, and we were instructed not to use the term ‘Holland’, because it was was only a part of the kingdom of the Netherlands. Thus, Olandiż simply didn’t cut it.

“Following the issue of a list of country names in Maltese, together with the respective adjectives by the institutions, the National Council for the Maltese Language issued its list with a number of changes, an initiative which, in itself, is very commendable. And here, Netherlands and Netherlandiż/a/i came into the scene.

“Truth be told, I don’t find a problem with integrating the English noun ‘Netherlands’ into Maltese, but I prefer to spell it as it is pronounced in Maltese – Nederlands.

“A widely accepted rule is that when we derive other forms from a borrowed word, we spell it as it is pronounced in Maltese. The word ‘cheque’ becomes ċekk because we have the plural form ċekkijiet. Writing ‘chequeijiet’ is obviously out.

“Adjectives like Shakespearejan do not follow this rule because, in most cases, they are derived from surnames. Surnames are not changed when used in different languages, but names of countries can and do.”

So, there you have it.

Skrapp u Skrapp & Co. Ltd is available from bookstores.