Plays, of course, are meant to be seen and not read, but it’s not always possible to see every play. They are not complete on the page, certainly in contemporary theatre where plays can be more collaboratively made than ever before. However, it encourages us (and hopefully others) to read more widely. For the third year, here is our #ReadaPlayaWeek initiative. And, as achieved in 2015, we shall try to choose 26 male playwrights and 26 female playwrights for our play choices.
Week 8: The Heresy of Love, Helen
Edmundson (2012)
Considering our pledge to
highlight works by female playwrights, this week’s ‘Read a Play a Week’
selection, Helen Edmundson’s The Heresy
of Love, is doubly appropriate. After seeing a performance of The House of Desires at the RSC’s Swan
Theatre in 2004, Edmundson became interested in unearthing the backstory of the
17th Century nun-cum-playwright, Sol Juana Inés de la Cruz. While
Edmundson’s play is a heavily fictionalised biography, her aim to write in the
style of the Spanish Golden Age of drama is fulfilled in its grandiose spirit,
moralisation, and themes relating to both the secular and religious.
Celebrated for her poetic gifts
within the Viceroy’s court, Sister Juana is encouraged by those around her to
write. Fascinated by all aspects of life she indulges in her extensive library
of books relating to all subjects, which she believes strengthen her faith just
as much as religious scriptures. However, the newly appointed Archbishop,
Aguair y Seijas, sees all plays and forms of entertainment as ‘sordid’,
believing the newly founded Mexico to be a sunken land of heathens, imploring
‘Where is the church?’. Combined with the belief that women are incapable of
having opinions worth voicing he seeks to put a stop to Juana’s unholy work.
What follows is a series of double
crossings and betrayals, both accidental and intentional. The theme of
corruption within puritanical authorities is reminiscent of the seediness of
Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure, especially
the element of sensuality in the duplicitous Santa Cruz’s interactions with
Juana. Subplots involving Juana’s niece Angelica’s illicit relationship with a
courtier, and the ravages of the plague exemplify the social crisis in Mexico.
This crisis is shown to be proliferated, rather than remedied, by the
Archbishop’s impositions. In a powerful scene towards the end of the play,
Juana speculates that it is his overwhelming fear of the female sex which
results in his denial of humanity and all the individuality, vitality, and
frailty that encompasses mankind.
The prescriptive ideology of
institutionalised religion is pitted against the soul-enriching personal faith
of Juana. Her upholding that ‘faith should not enslave our minds, but open them’
presents a very credible and empathetic argument. It is worth noting that
Juana’s view does not go unchallenged. Her unorthodox lifestyle is both
exciting in its subversion but also raises questions about just how far we can
modify religion to fit our more selfish motives. And while Edmundson’s focus on
faith and women’s rights occasionally falls into preachiness it also
successfully drives the plot as Juana’s poetic talent and steadfast religion is
eventually turned against her by those she deemed trustworthy.
My only reservation would be that
we’re constantly told how gifted Juana is, and her articulate eloquence
somewhat illustrates this, but it would have been nice to see more first-hand
examples of her poetry and drama within the play. This is only a minor quibble
fuelled no doubt by my own laziness, as I’m aware that such examples are
presumably only a quick google search away. Anyway, Edmundson has certainly
piqued my interest in this remarkable historic figure. The Heresy of Love celebrates the endeavours of one progressive
woman and playwright worthy of great attention, particularly pertinent in this
age of reinvigorated feminism.
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