15 November 2002: Uhry, Edgardo Mine
Hartford Stage. directed by Doug Hughes. Based on The Kidnapping of Edgardo Mortura, by David Kertzer
The title really does capture the idea. “He’s mine.” “No, he’s mine.” “Mine, I tell you!” “We’ll see about that; you haven’t won yet.” “Oh, but I will. Nya, nya, nya.” Thus the back-and-forth between Marianna Mortara, the mother of the boy Edgardo, kidnapped by the henchmen of Pope Pius IX, and the Pope (“Pio Nono” to his friends — and captives). It seems that Edgardo when still an infant and in danger of dying, having been born into a Jewish family in the ghetto in Bologna, a Catholic serving maid secretly baptized him and went on to boast of the fact. News of this reaches the Pope, who determines that the boy must be “rescued.” The tug-of-war over the body and soul commences, to the ultimate victory of the Pope, who saves Edgardo so well that Edgardo becomes a priest, preaches widely across Europe, tries unsuccessfully to convert his mother on her deathbed, and finally dies, an old man, in Belgium only weeks before the Nazis descend and round up all Belgian Jews to be shipped off to concentration camps.
Uhry makes this tawdry story the stuff of a truly undistinguished play, utterly innocent of ideas. We have here what might have made an acceptable melodrama, had Uhry not tried to disguise the fact by making “Nono” the after-the-fact narrator who manipulates truth and falsehood to his own advantage by playing certain key scenes from his own and then from Marianna and her husband’s point of view, then pronouncing Marianna’s version mere wishful thinking. This pretense of subjective truth is clearly a sham, however; the real center of the play is the figure of Nono, come from the grave (it seems) to tell us the true story of his triumph. This is of course the pontiff who declared himself unable to err on questions of faith or morals — and what is the case of Edgardo if not such a case? Uhry takes care to make his central character both odious and oddly fascinating. He is, finally, a creature of Uhry’s audience and its need to be able both to deplore the shameful kidnapping of a guileless Jewish lad, who has (as we, in 2002, would surely insist) as much right to the religion of his family and their Old Testament predecessors as the Pope and all his followers to theirs, and simultaneously to be drawn into a perverse retelling of the shameful story by the principal antagonist, who insists on his inside track on truth and describes the great sacrifices he, and Edgardo, for that matter, have gone through in order to do what God, in a special revelation to him, has told him is the only right thing. (Oh, and if the dramatized version of Kertzer’s history of the events of the story doesn’t satisfy us, we can always buy a copy of Kertzer’s book, on sale in the lobby.)
Where, and how, can this play be placed in our consciousness of current events? For the last year we have been bombarded (literally, indeed, on September