James Joyce liked it dirty (and other revelations) in ‘Your Sexts Are Sh*t: Older Better Letters’

The Rundown:

What’s old is new again in Rachel Mars’ Your Sexts Are Sh*t: Older Better Letters. Her one-person show, part of The Public Theater’s Under the Radar Festival of new works, juxtaposes intimate letters from some of our favorite cultural icons with the fast and loose sexting that’s become part of modern-day relationships. The result is a verbal cacophony of desire and a ridiculously accurate snapshot of how technology has contributed to the collapse of the art of seduction.  

No Tea, No Shade:

Mars utilizes a simple but effective delivery by bisecting the stage into two. A modern white desk, laptop, and floor lamp embodies one side, while the other includes a two-drawer bedside table and a vintage slide projector. In the center is a large screen that Mars controls with a remote.

The evening begins with Mars reading a letter from Irish novelist James Joyce to his wife Nora Barnacle:

“My sweet little whorish Nora I did as you told me, you dirty little girl, and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter. I am delighted to see that you do like being f*cked arseways …”

How about we take this to the next level?

Our newsletter is like a refreshing cocktail (or mocktail) of LGBTQ+ entertainment and pop culture, served up with a side of eye-candy.

Daily

Weekly

Promotions and Partner Emails

The vivid imagery continues — Joyce was, after all, a prolific wordsmith known for, among other titles, Ulysses and A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man. But his private vocabulary — as well as that of Frida Kahlo, Marcel Proust, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Gertrude Stein — reveals his carnal desires. Mars reads the letters, each meticulously pulled from the table drawer, as if they were part of an AP English class presentation.

Mars uses the large center screen to project texts, showing how our communication skills have degenerated (evolved?) with technological advancement. Shorts bursts of sexually charged messages butt up against the mundane — “boil the kettle” or “cat just vommed twice on the rug” — implying that we are complex creatures who often shift gears as the day demands. Mars also integrates a series of monologues inspired by her life and relationships and later features a voiceover by Canadian artist Lesley Ewen of an imagined letter (packed with body fluid references) from Barnacle to Joyce.

Like many hook-ups, the flame diminishes over time. At just over an hour long, Mars has devised an interesting premise that doesn’t necessarily strive for an orgasmic conclusion.

Let’s Have a Moment:

One of Mars’ most intriguing discoveries is a letter perfumed with forbidden love rather than a sexual fantasy. Brother Augustine, a monk from Elk Hill Monastery, wrote a letter to a young monk, Samuel Hase.

“My love for you is so deep, so tender, that I cannot bear even to be separated from you, and when I do see you I have such a heavy weight at my heart, and you seem so careless and light-hearted and so taken up with others, and all this makes me worse,” Augustine wrote, later proclaiming, “Morning, noon, and night, nothing haunts me but your sweet darling face; in my very dreams I see it; in a word, I am infatuated and wretched and wish sometimes I had never seen you.”

Underscored by London Grammar’s cover of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game,” Augustine offers Hase money to have a portrait taken. “I do not ask it out of love, for I know and feel you have none for me, he pleads. “This, indeed, is the reason of my misery.”  

The letter was intercepted by Hase’s stepmother and turned over to the local press, forcing Augustine to flee town.

The Last Word:

“The events at this year’s Under the Radar Festival consider our complicated time on earth and its environment—including the social storms of the internet,” said Under the Radar Festival director Mark Russell. “They unearth ancient stories with new voices and perspectives using fierce poetry, astounding visuals, incisive humor, dust, salt, glitter, and song, to examine our past and point to the future.”

While Your Sexts Are Sh*t: Older Better Letters may not embody that entire inventory of descriptors, it probes — both metaphorically and literally — the Puritan mentality that’s hovered over our culture for centuries. Rachel Mars cracks open the door to our understanding of desire and sexuality and invites us to walk through it.

Your Sexts Are Sh*t: Older Better Letters plays at New York City’s Public Theater through January 15

---

This article includes links that may result in a small affiliate share for purchased products, which helps support independent LGBTQ+ media.