top of page

2025Edfringe Review: A Poem and A Mistake

  • Writer: A Diary for Strangers
    A Diary for Strangers
  • Aug 7
  • 2 min read

Updated: Aug 8

A Poem and a mistake
A Poem and a mistake

★★★★☆

The show begins with an enigmatic story: a girl named Mara is approached by an old man who tells her that her name once belonged to a goddess in Metamorphoses by Ovid. The actor has a gift for storytelling—within moments, we’re drawn in.


From there, the story of Mara and the mythological world of Metamorphoses begin to intertwine. In a university class, Mara asks her professor whether a woman in Metamorphoses was raped or not. The professor falters—stammering, defensive—as if Mara is weaving a trap for him with her questions, rather than simply being a student who wants an answer.


Their conversation goes nowhere. Then, in a theatrical twist, the professor transforms—first into Mara herself, then into various heroines of Metamorphoses. He is chased, raped, insulted, and violated in multiple ways.


Meanwhile, Mara recounts her own story: growing up as a woman and facing countless forms of sexual harassment. The myths and her personal history begin to merge. These narratives tell us that the body of a woman becomes a punishment—not just in myth, but in life. Not only does Mara come to this understanding, but so does the professor, who, after being endlessly assaulted in mythic form, pleads with the gods to “rid me of the body that gives too much delight.”


When Mara lists the many incidents of sexual harassment she has experienced—mostly from men—she places a woman predator at the top of the list. This recalls the story of Callisto, who was deceived by Jupiter disguised as Diana. Power transforms a woman into a male aggressor, doing the very things we presume only men do. That is the final metamorphosis of the show.


The ending is deeply moving. Fifty small lights hang against a black cloth—each representing a female character unjustly treated in Metamorphoses. Their names are spoken aloud, one by one. Even Juno—the jealous woman who turns other women into bears or trees—is named. She, too, is a victim. A powerless wife, unable to stop her lustful, unfaithful husband.


The show excels in its themes, its provocations, and its dramaturgy. It bravely addresses queer sexual violence—a topic often dismissed or ignored in similar performances. Only one aspect left me unsatisfied: in the final moment, the professor is imagined as regretful, saying he’s sorry he didn’t acknowledge that these female characters were raped. But a simple “sorry” doesn’t feel like enough. I found myself wanting more than remorse.

Comments


Image by Europeana

About Me

I’m a rummager of second-hand lesbian stories — whispers, gossip, marginalia.

 

I collect the soft traces and loud silences left by women who loved women, whether or not they ever said so aloud.

—from Japanese rental websites where dreamers describe their future with a lover in lesbian tones,


to ancient Chinese divination slips from the Qin dynasty, hinting that the direction of a doorway may determine whether your wife and your sister will fall for each other.

This site is my notebook, my archive, my way of asking what’s been hidden, and why.
Welcome to my diary for strangers.

Let the posts come to you.

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
Any queer woman stories you would like to share? 

© 2035 by Turning Heads. Powered and secured by Wix

bottom of page