If you follow us on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter (and if you don't then you should, so do that right now) you'll have seen that this week marks the beginning of our Hell Has No Fury rehearsals. We've been incredibly lucky to get some amazing rehearsal space in Dundee for Rebecca and Taylor to use as they see fit for the next few weeks.
Our première is on the 16th of April at Assembly Roxy in Edinburgh, mere weeks away!
You should buy tickets. Like now. Right this second. Do it.
As the writer of Hell Has No Fury my job is pretty much done at this point. Which is delightful for Low and Claire who have to put up with my nagging, constant barrage of pointless ideas and general panic that there's something I should be doing. Luckily they're very patient individuals and thus far my incessant panicking has not broken TwentySomething up - but it's early days.
Whilst I twiddle my thumbs I thought I would give a little insight into the idea behind Hell Has No Fury and the inspiration for the story. In case you don't know, HHNF follows the story of Medea from the play by Eurpides. Before our classes at Dundee last year I hadn't read Medea. Honestly I'd never read any Classic play from start to finish, despite being obsessed with all things Greek and Roman when I was younger. I loved studying these classic texts and if you ever want to hear me wax lyrical about how the female characters of Greek Tragedy are feminist icons I'd be more than happy! Medea in particular caught my attention, she was who I'd heard the most about. However, everything I'd ever known about her was focused on her insanity, her cruelty and her 'unwomanly' behaviour. It didn't take me long to fairly agressively reject that image of her.
If you don't know the story; Medea is in a relationship with Jason (oh he of Argonaut fame). When Jason leaves her for a younger woman, a Princess, Medea enacts revenge on him by killing their two sons. Pretty simple. Pretty horrific.
What strikes me about the way Medea is normally portrayed is how she is seen as a vindictive lunatic, a woman who goes mad with jealousy and rejection. I find this surprising because Medea is anything but mad, she's entirely lucid throughout every minute of the play. I think that's what makes her so much more interesting; she knows what she's doing, she's thought about it, she isn't struck by a fit of passion or madness, her actions are calculated and reasoned.
That's one of the main things we're focusing on with HHNF: Medea isn't mad.
Medea is ruthless. Medea is a murderer. Medea is terrifying.
But Medea isn't mad.
Another focus of our production is the idea of justice. Medea has an intrinsic and irrevocable sense of right and wrong. Jason has done the wrong thing, not only the wrong thing, but the worst thing he could have possibly done, and for that there has to be justice. Medea sees herself as the bringer of that justice. Medea's scorned woman image is important, but it isn't the reason she does what she does. Jason's deeds affect more than just her, they affect her sons and that is why he has to be punished.
Medea is an enigma, that much is certain. She's far too complicated to be fully explained in an hour. But I hope that HHNF highlights the parts of Medea that don't always take centre stage in productions of the play.
Medea is difficult. Medea is complicated. Medea is worth listening to.
Sweeney
