Tobsha Learner’s The Glass Mermaid is a domestic drama with paranormal threads. Sara has come back to the island home she used to live in with her husband Karl. It’s a year since Karl walked into the ocean in an apparent suicide, searching for the “song behind all songs”.
Sara has come back to her home to try to find her husband, to enact a ritual whereby he might return from the dead and let her know why he died or point out the murderer if there was one. She is frequently interrupted by two neighbours Julian and Kristin, who were friends of hers and Karl’s as well as acting as caretakers of the island.
Karl was a scientist and philosopher, fascinated by phenomenology and loved and envied in equal measures by Julian. What lifts The Glass Mermaid out of the ordinary is the entrance of a Bosnian escort named Janko. He visits Sara by mistake and she decides to pay him to wear her husband’s clothes and smoke his pipe so that she can talk to, caress and make love to her husband again. As you might expect, they fall in love with each other and what began as a service becomes a relationship.
JANKO: I am tired of not dreaming. Of sleeping with pain behind the eyes. And tonight I come here because I want you to know me. Janko Kavoic.
SARA: That’s not what I hired you for.
JANKO: I am not here for the money, Sara.
The last character to arrive on the scene is Cassandra, Sara’s 17-year-old daughter. All the characters have secrets that are slowly uncovered in the course of the play. Some of the resolutions (like Kristin’s) come abruptly and without enough character development, others feel inexorable.
The Glass Mermaid reads a little like a paranormal whodunnit with a romantic heart. I loved seeing a strong central character in her late 40s but it’s Janko, the war-damaged, bereaved emigre who captured my allegiance. There are moments of heightened prose, like when Janko describes almost drowning in the Sava river when the ice breaks beneath the soldiers crossing.
JANKO: We are sliding, our fingers clutching at the surface, no one is screaming, it is too quick, we are sliding into the river, the freezing river. And the ice, she closes up above our heads. As if we had never been there … I see the others floating down, struggling with their packs. Like crazy ballet dancers. I am dying I think. My cousins’ faces like ghosts in the green water.
Publisher: Currency Press
Cast: 3F, 2M