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  • The True History of the Tragic Life and Triumphant Death of Julia Pastrana, the Ugliest Woman in the World
  • Christine Mather
The True History of the Tragic Life and Triumphant Death of Julia Pastrana, the Ugliest Woman in the World. By Shaun Prendergast. Battersea Arts Centre, Battersea, London. 5 July 1998.

Productions this summer at the Battersea Arts Centre proved once again that innovative theatre depends more on imagination than money. Instead of adding to increasingly complex theatre technology, the groups performing in this series left something out: light. Battersea’s Playing in the Dark series consisted of performances that remained unseen (but not unwitnessed) in a completely darkened theatre. Theatre companies were invited to meet a specific challenge: what can a production offer to compensate for the temporary deprivation of sight? All productions were designed to use darkness as a central feature, with texts that ranged from Shakespeare sonnets to Oedipus Tyrranos.

In the case of The True History of The Tragic Life and Triumphant Death of Julia Pastrana, The Ugliest Woman in the World (Julia), Let There Be Light Productions offered a freak show of the mind. The sad story of Julia Pastrana bears some similarities to The Elephant Man, also based on the history of a person born physically disfigured. Unlike John Merrick, however, Julia Pastrana never had the chance to demonstrate her accomplishments outside a carnival side show. The venal showman Lent bought Julia as a child, and exhibited her for the rest of her life. Lent even wooed and married Julia to protect his investment from rival showmen. After Julia’s untimely death in childbirth, he had her and the dead baby stuffed, and continued to display the figures until he went insane.

Playwright Shaun Prendergast’s treatment takes advantage of the story’s carnival atmosphere and bizarre events. He gives Lent’s speeches the annoying rhyme and rhythm of a carnival barker, and provides lesser echoes in the other showmen and gawkers. This chorus of crudeness contrasts strongly with Julia’s lyrical speeches. The idealized Julia of Prendergast’s script is an angelic beauty trapped inside a terrifying beast whose overwhelming desire is to have a normal child that will reveal her inner beauty to the world. When that hope fails, she grieves to death. In contrast, Lent craves money. In this allegory of spirit and greed, spirit prevails, yet it is a sad little victory, for Julia’s memory pushes Lent into madness where he literally drowns.

The production began in the lobby as the house manager advised the audience what to do if anyone panicked in the dark. Inside, a circle of cloth with “Lent’s Traveling Freak Show Proudly Presents Julia Pastrana The Ugliest Woman in the World” lettered on it in circus style provided the only scenery. Under Andrea Brooks’ direction, the studio space surged with varying volumes of emotion. As the space darkened, carnival music swelled to fill it. Then the shouting showmen promised wonders surpassing the power of descriptive adjectives, and Lent (Adam Henderson) raised his voice above the hubbub as he detailed past cons. We heard the clink of money and listened as Lent bought Julia (Alessandra Scott), his new star attraction, a being of unmatchable, although invisible, ugliness.

In the dark, the theatre seemed packed full of people, all shouting and rushing around. At several points, Lent shouted his pitch in the faces of the audience. This attention-grabbing ploy worked so effectively that Lent became the dominant force in the production thereafter, a charismatic moral leper.

When Julia first spoke and described herself, the melodious soft voice contrasted sharply with the words in which she itemized her hideousness. This gave the darkness a purpose, to hide the shame of this innocent who needed protection from our vulgar and curious stares. As Julia listed her catalogue of defects, the mind created the illusion of her incredible ugliness. Metaphorically and actually, Julia lived in the shadows. Restrained pathos underlay a scene in which she wrote home and mentioned the wonderful places she’d traveled to but never seen. Julia expressed no self-pity, just the regret and acceptance of her fate suitable to a tragic...

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