Turning monster

INTERVIEW WITH EMMA SKALICKY “YOU ONLY HAVE TO LOOK AT THE MEDUSA STRAIGHT ON TO SEE HER. AND SHE’S NOT DEADLY. SHE’S BEAUTIFUL AND SHE’S LAUGHING.” HELENE CIXOUS

I had the divine pleasure of seeing Medusa Waking on its premiere night. At its end, I stood in the walkway shaken, crying slightly, but vindicated and full of joy. Murmurings around me echoed my thoughts: “This is the best play I’ve ever seen.”

I spoke with Emma Skalicky, writer of the show and one of the powerhouses behind Bad Company Theatre – Hobart’s newest crew of creatives. The myth of Medusa fell into Emma’s lap at a time when she felt “wounded and gagged” by her own similar story of transformation. Greek myth is flooded with scenes of violence, including a disturbing number of instances of assault victims tortured or transformed, blamed and burdened by an act they did not choose.

This interview involves us speaking about sexual trauma and underage abuse, which is also the topic of the play itself. Please, if this is troubling for you, skip this page. You can also contact Sexual Assault Support Service 24/7 on 1800 697 877.

Medusa Waking centres around Maggie, a young teenage girl who is frantic, angry and aloof. The entire show takes place in her bathroom as she cries, hears voices in the pipes, and is visited by the Greek deities of old in a tale that breaks the spacetime continuum – and Maggie’s mind. Her mother, desperate to help, cannot understand her feelings. Maggie feels demonized and mocked for the sexual abuse she faced at the hand of a friend’s father and draws stone-gazed Medusa on her mirror in red lipstick and laments how she is becoming monstrous. But why? WHY do we see young girls this way? Emma speaks on this: “My starting point for writing this show was that, speaking as a survivor, I’ve seen so much media where sexual violence is portrayed quite graphically or violently, and I’ve always wondered – who is this for? Why do we want to watch this? It so often feels voyeuristic or exploitative. I wanted to write something FOR survivors. Something where if I were in the audience, I would feel safe and understood.” Throughout the writing process, Emma was incredibly conscious of the fact that young, vulnerable folks are groomed by adults and then blamed for their behaviours. “I am sick to death of it,” she said. “There is no excuse for breaking that boundary. Young people growing into any kind of space deserve respect, and they deserve to be cared for and believed when these boundaries are crossed.”

Did you know that if a child is met with disbelief when coming forward about abuse, on average, it takes the survivor seven years to feel safe enough to bring it up again? Maggie discloses to family, who then betray her trust and tell others – she loses the right to sharing her story when she wanted, with who she wanted. Her trauma became everyone’s joke.

Maggie’s agonizing vulnerability is palpable as ghosts from her past yank her down with a shrill scream, covering her mouth to silence her as she flails... it sent my blood cold. But there was raw honesty in it, and her story is one too familiar to me and so many others.

Emma’s skilful weaving of Gods amongst men (well, girls) perfectly described the sensations of trauma sneaking up on you, the deep shame, the sense of going absolutely MAD trying to recover and survive what has happened. She mentioned the writing process was incredibly cathartic for her and aided her own recovery.

“I hope outside of the fiction of this show, the precedent is being set in rehearsal rooms and networking spaces where we respect people’s consent, believe survivors, and stop making excuses for repeat offenders. People like Maggie deserve so much better, and I know it’s possible. Give them room to speak – and bloody loudly too!”