Let's Talk About Sex, Baby ... And Seventeenth Century Theatre

Yes! My totally grabby scandalous title brought you in! Read on, friends as I share my tipsily written, soberly edited thoughts on a seventeenth century spy, tinder and feminism. 

I recently watched the dress run of The Rover, probably the sexiest show currently on at the RSC. (If you don’t think that’s much of a statement, go check out Lucifer in a white catsuit, red lipstick and stilettos in Doctor Faustus at the Barbican, then come back to me. Elizabethan theatre is RAUNCHY.) 

It was very enjoyable. Aphra Behn, who wrote it, was one of the UK’s first professional female playwrights, when she wasn’t being a spy. She’s kind of like a seventeenth century John le Carre, except she wrote about far more universal and exciting things than international espionage: sex and travel, mostly. The play’s about three wealthy sisters who escape their brother’s restrictive watch to experience some fun and romance before facing the highly unromantic futures that have been laid out for them, which involve being shipped off to convents or into unwanted marriages. They disguise themselves as gypsies and join carnival season for one night of freedom, where they become entangled with three English travellers, who find the carnival equally new, exciting and foreign. 

The Rover © RSC

The whole play stinks of patriarchy, like most things from 1677 do. Amid the party atmosphere of the carnival, there are seriously solemn moments: one of the sisters has to not just forgive but pretty much laugh off two men who attempted to rape her (on separate occasions! in one day! And one of them goes on to marry her sister!), and the sisters all have to do exactly what their brother and father tell them. 

While that’s all important though, what I really want to convey here is how SEXY the show is. There’s sexy men, and sexy women, and sexy men having sex with sexy women, and sexy women having sex with sexy men, and sexy women having sex with unsexy men and skirts fly off and hands wander and everyone is just so excited to SEE EACHOTHER. It’s lovely! 

The Rover © RSC

As I sat and watched the scandal unfold, it felt terribly unfair to me that nearly 350 years later, such electric, excitable sexual adventure still feels like such a distant and fantastical notion. There’s something desperately numbing about watching people dance and kiss and argue and get so intensely entangled in each other, in a story that only takes place over 24 hours or so, and then go home and turn to the 21st century’s equivalent matchmaking tool - not carnival, but tinder. Masks and music and dance have given way to swiping through photos and forcing conversation with boring strangers on an app. 

HOW CAN THIS HAVE HAPPENED? We’ve had lots of progress since 1677. Microwaves and shorts for women, to name but two examples. It is very much a good thing that I am not forced to marry anyone I don’t want to. This play makes it abundantly obvious that women in the seventeenth century found it just as unsavoury a prospect as we do today. It is good that women can now report rape as a crime, and men are punished - occasionally. AREN’T WE LUCKY. But all these marks of progress come with serious caveats. I may not have to marry anyone I don’t want to, but that’s not the case for many women and girls in the world. We might be able to report rape as a crime, but women still have to laugh off rape ‘jokes’ in many situations.  

Rather than joining a carnival and dancing round in masks, meeting people, taking in smells and sights and sounds and feeling physical attraction, we join Tinder or Grindr or Happn, and virtually bat off weirdos and consign ourselves to random onslaughts of dickpics. Technology has somehow allowed us to do away with physical connection, but keep the abuse and objectification. How can we have let this happen as a society? We’ve kept the sexual oppression, and LOST THE ACTUAL SEX?!?! 

© Vice

I don’t think I’m being over dramatic here. A study released last month showed that millenials (specifically young people aged 20-24), have less actual, in person, kissy touchy sex than previous generations. And I can believe it. I mean, how do you even connect with people these days? We don’t go outside! Even if we did, what would we do? Technology has splintered the media so much that there’s very little that EVERYONE connects over any more.There’s nowhere that EVERYONE IS. They’re not at carnivals, or speakeasies, or punk gigs or raves. They’re on the internet. (And while you CAN have sex over the internet, I’m going to stick my neck out here and say it’s not as fun.) And yet these extra miles and messages and apps between us all haven’t kept us any safer. Young women have a 30% chance of being sexually assaulted on university campuses. We’ve kept the dark, oppressive demons of centuries past and cast off the fun side. 

Watching this 1677 play in 2016, the poignant, relatable aspects are the violence, sinister control and revenge many of the men seek to affect on the women, while the lively sexual banter feels ludicrous and dated. IT SHOULD BE THE OTHER WAY AROUND. The crazily overt sexism should feel distant and antiquated, and the SEX, the CONNECTION and the CARNIVAL, should feel universal.

The Rover © RSC

Resolutions

Welcome to 2016 everybody!

That’s how this post opened when I wrote it, back in January. Now that midsummer is approaching, it’s a bit of a weak opening. Doesn’t scream up-to-date and must-read. But, given that the post written below is about New Year’s resolutions, it is kind of fitting. Allow that ridiculous opening sentence of mine to place you, like any good author should, in a vivid, suitable context for what’s to follow. I present to you here my thinking from the tenth of January 2016:

I started the new year off not with a bang, but with violent fit of coughing and the feeling of vague mystification as I sat under a duvet with a lemsip, watching Brian Adams sing a rock version of Auld Lang Syne to the crowds of people gathered for the fireworks in London. (He was indoors, but they all could hear?!) But I hope you all had a good time.

Since then, my life has followed a strict regime of duvet-time, Netflix-binging and teddy hugging, overseen by a devilish triumvirate of stubborn cold symptoms, PMS and back to work blues. All of which has really dulled my enthusiasm for new years and new beginnings and all that.

My approach to resolutions has been swinging erratically from enthusiastic list-making, dreaming of all I can do in these next 12 months to make me a successful human, and the dull, angry conviction that resolutions are the faux empowering tool of a harsh capitalist system, fooling us all into becoming more subservient citizens after spending 2 useless weeks valuing friendships, family and food over economic productivity and diets.

Buddy the elf doesn't need resolutions or diets.

When the Head of Department invited us all to share our resolutions at the team meeting this week, I shared nothing but a weird, anguished animal-noise, before monotonously telling my wide-eyed colleagues that “my new year’s resolution is … ugh … to, er, make one …” Which was pants. But I was put on the spot, and something about the meeting room and the spreadsheets and the jam-packed agenda told me that “I HAVE NO RESOLUTION BECAUSE I’M NOT CONFORMING TO YOUR EXPLOITATIVE CAPITALIST IDEOLOGY” would not have been an acceptable response.

Cosy and warming as angry defiance can be, I also don’t think it’s a feeling I’ll look back on and cherish. It’s only useful if you do something about it. Otherwise you’re just a moody girl freaking everyone out by making inhuman noises in business meetings. And while I’m happy to be that girl, I would also like to be proud of myself in 2016. So, in short, the blog’s coming back.

2015 was a really good year for me, but because I was so busy, this blog got neglected, something I said I wouldn’t do. Now that I’m lucky enough to be working normal 8 hour days, am no longer commuting into London, and am just beginning to miss the brain-stretching reading and research of uni, there’s no excuse not to go back to it.

I haven’t got official plans, or themes, or timetables, but it’s always been a bit of a miscellany. Humans hold many contradictions, so some random, unpredictable content, splatted straight out from my brain will, I’m hoping, still be entertaining, and of value. I’ve started a new notebook for the new year, and it’s already filling up.  So, see you back here soon!

Ha! Soon! That must have been the Lemsip talking. Six months later, and I am feeling a little flat about my lack of consistency with this resolution. One might say I have completely failed, but the way I see it, I still have six months left to come good on it. So, I say again, see you back here soon! What is it they say about people who do exactly the same thing and expect a different result? 

First Post

Hi.

So, after about three months of planning to do it, I’m finally getting this blog started, and I’m going to get this thing off the ground with a BANG. As you can gauge from this, I’m a very impulsive and action driven person, so let’s get straight to the exciting stuff.

…

 I have to begin with some expectation management.

What not to expect from my blog:

1) Travel notes
What?? I know. I called this blog ‘travelnotes’ and, given that I recently moved from my home in a quiet London suburb to that beautiful, insomnia-prone disaster filmset, Lady New York City, it would make sense for this to be a blog documenting my travels. However obvious interpretation created by my move is nothing more than a happy coincidence. A nice double entendre. Looking through my pieces from this summer, and thinking about how to connect them together, I realized that the theme connecting everything seemed to be travel. Travelnotes is so called because most of the content was and will be written on various forms of transport. A lot of what I will be posting up here soon is stuff I wrote when I didn’t have a computer. It has been written on park benches, trains, buses and planes, going from London, to Birmingham to Edinburgh to St Albans to the U.S. of A. So by travelnotes, I mean it in a much more immediate and literal sense than just things that have happened to me ‘on the road’. It’s stuff I’ve thought about while in motion, outside of my home, and in limbo. The opposite of location-based writing I suppose. So I guess, in effect, the exact opposite of travel writing.

2) Narrative 

So most of the postings will be writing taken from my notebooks.  I use lots of notebooks. I pick one up in the morning, write in it in the day, put it down, and will almost definitely pick up a different one the next morning. This pattern has carried on for as long as I can remember.  So flicking through the pages, things written in consecutive days will rarely be in the same book, let alone next to each other.  When I open my notebook to start writing, I don’t fill them up page by page. I tend to open at a random page. This started because a lot of the time I write starter bits to go back to later, so I’d skip pages to leave room for pieces to be added to. But it’s kind of just how I roll now, whether I need to leave space or not. So my notebooks are basically tatty doodle pads with pages of unconnected writings, scribbles out, stars, moved paragraphs, several versions of the same paragraph, and pen and pencil smudges. And blog will probably resemble that structure pretty closely, mainly because that's pretty much the structure of my brain too. And tying all that stuff together and putting it in order is not a job I’m willing to do. It's why I'll never write a beautiful novel. Who needs linearity anyway?

So yeah, no travel notes and no distinct order or timeframe.  I’ve heard it said around that location and narrative are pretty central things to good writing, so I thought it was probably important to make people aware of their absence here. Happy Reading :)