This February, the New Works festival returns for its 13th year, celebrating the very best of student writing in Glasgow. We sat down with Sofia, author of Jilted, which performs on 27th February, Queen Margaret Union.
What inspired you to explore the aftermath of a bride jilting her groom at the altar?
The final year of my undergrad has often led me to consider the passing of time. I think there is a real pressure that exists for some people, to follow a certain path, in a way that might make them feel stuck. I wanted to consider what happens when the trajectory of a life, especially that of a type A planner like Stacy, suddenly takes a sharp and unexpected turn. When else is the trajectory of your life more set than the moment you are about to swear your everlasting fidelity to someone? What could be a more interesting moment than this one, to see what happens when you say “this is everything I have ever wanted. And it’s not enough”.
How did you develop the dynamic between Stacy and her bridesmaids?
I have always been a bit of a hopeless romantic, so I have also been no stranger to heartbreak. The biggest thing it has taught me is that my soulmates are my friends. When we reach uncertainty and look to the future, finding our partner, our one true love, often feels like a priority, as we feel it will help us navigate that fear and uncertainty. I only have to look around me to see that, in the face of life’s biggest questions, the only people I need by my side are the friends that know me like the backs of their hands. Of them I can always be sure. I worked to develop the dynamic between Stacy, Carrie and Margaret to ensure that, despite our exposure to only a twenty-minute snapshot of their lives, we can see how intimately these women know, love and need each other. They are each other’s soulmates.
What themes about womanhood and societal expectations were important to convey?
Women are (largely) terrified of aging. The fear is drilled into us from ridiculously early on. And for those women who are looking to settle down and live happily ever after, one only needs to look at Christian Rudder’s graph from his book Dataclysm (2014) (Rudder is a co-founder of OkCupid) to know that, statistically speaker, the older a woman gets, the less attractive men will find her (regardless of the man’s own age in comparison). This statistic, as well as the pressure to procreate, seems to place this terrifying and constant internal ticking clock on a woman’s value and worth. The ChickLit genre in literature and film has attempted to reframe this, pushing a narrative of women aged thirty and above as high-powered career girls, making a name for themselves in the big city, and still finding happily-ever-after alongside their position as a column writer for *insert impressive fashion/lifestyle magazine* (think Sex and the City or How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days). These narratives push this time in women’s lives as one of excitement, adventure and personal growth, where (if they want it enough) women can truly have it all. But having it all is hard (not impossible, but certainly difficult). Women are still largely expected to remain primary caregivers for children. Dating is time-consuming and often draining (emotionally and financially). There are glass ceilings in place that still prevent many women from reaching their full career potential. Jilted, as a twenty minute New Works play, does not propose to have the answers to this near-impossibility. But it attempts to convey the idea that, in a time filled with such pressure and heavy expectations for women to have a plan, it’s okay sometimes to just throw the plan out of the window. And the best people to do that with are two other women who understand exactly what that terror bubbling inside of you feels like. And instead of letting you succumb to it, will say “fuck it. Let’s go to Rome”.
How does humor play a role in addressing serious questions about life and relationships?
This comes partly from my own personal preference to use humour as a coping mechanism. They say to write what you know, after all! But the humour does also help to encompass the feeling of sheer ridiculousness behind Stacy’s choice to leave Karl at the altar. It was important for me to not paint Karl as a villain. There is nothing particularly wrong with him. In fact, he seems in many ways to be a great match for her. Stacy herself goes back and forth on her decision several times over the course of the play. But overall, the play is about Stacy, not Karl. He may be right in many ways, but he just isn’t right for her. Runaway bride felt like a classically humorous and lighthearted model through which to explore some of the more serious concerns that face women like Stacy as they age. It’s Stacy’s story, Stacy’s future, Stacy’s (almost) wedding – when these fall into jeopardy, humour is how she chooses to cope (she’s just like me!).
What was the significance of referencing pop culture elements like Google Translate and Juicy Couture?
I try to write dialogue as realistically as possible. This is sometimes difficult when writing comedy, but I find pop culture references can make the situation more digestible for an audience, and connect them more to the story, as well as providing common reference points to help certain jokes land. Especially when writing for an audience largely made up of the same generation as me.
What message do you hope audiences will take away about embracing life transitions?
Jilted highlights Stacy’s specific perspective as a woman in her thirties facing an uncertain future, but I hope the play will speak to any audience members who have perhaps felt set in their ways, or stuck to a certain plan (five-year, ten year etc) for how their life is ‘supposed’ to pan out. I’m a type A person, a planner, much like Stacy.But I learned in writing this play, as well as from the direction my own life has taken over the past couple of years, that I can survive just about anything with the support of the right people around me. And that sometimes the most exciting things come from making the unexpected choice. Never let them know your next move. We live on a floating rock, at the end of the day. So, fuck it – let’s go to Rome.