Bebe Cave: "I love the vibrancy, whimsy and fantasy of the mid-century medieval revival culture."

My sources may be shallow, but my desire runs deep. Oh, to be a young maiden, blushing and blooming, living in a turreted tower at the top of an old stone castle, sighing constantly, weaving tapestries at a spinning wheel by day and dancing at banquets by night. No responsibilities apart from being beautiful and god-fearing and breedable.

A time when we didn’t have to wade through thirsty Instagram DMs from men who think it’s the height of romance to describe you as ‘quite fit’. No, men back then in the good old days would joust to prove their honour to you! And ride on a valiant steed in a shining suit of armour for weeks, through rainstorms, fighting off dragons, just to catch a glimpse of you on the balcony, their lust satisfied by a simple kiss on your lily-white hand.

These scenes conjured in the dark recesses of my brain make me want to throw my phone into a lake, and grow my hair so long it flows past my waist and tangles in the straps of my backpack. Except I can’t throw my phone in a lake because that would be mental - all my stuff’s on there! And my hair doesn’t grow past my shoulders anymore, I should never have started highlighting my hair at 21. And my boyfriend isn’t a knight, he’s a stand-up comedian with a podcast. Not ideal!

My perception of the medieval age, like many other delusional young women, is a rose-tinted and inaccurate one. It stems from misremembered snippets of childhood Disney films, a vague longing to sit somewhere with stained glass windows, and Taylor swift running into the middle of a field to kiss that comically handsome man with an open shirt in the 2008 music video for Love Story.

Okay, so my current hyperfixation is anachronistic and potentially unfeminist - sue me! But it’s not just me buddy. Why is there a cultural obsession happening at the moment, both online and in the real world, with the middle ages? Every day my algorithm presents me with montages of medieval inspired folk music, literature, television and pop culture. A filtered version of the medieval revival movement first popularised in the 1960s (think prog rock and colourful tights). It’s like my own personal magic mirror, an aspirational reflection of the persona I’m trying to create.

Chappell Roan cosplayed as a punky Joan of Arc at the VMAs, and runs around in a hennin (historical term for pointy princess hat) every chance she gets. The internet is chockablock full with medieval moodboards set to Golden Brown by The Stranglers, fashion trends are leaning towards the ethereal and whimsical, and everyone and their mum is reading some variant of erotic romantasy novel that involves being bedded by an elf king.

My one-woman comedy show combines all of these interests of mine, but also attempts to pose a question: what would it have been like for a medieval girl who didn’t want to follow the path of traditional romance?

Christbride is the story of a teenage girl, Batilda Bigbum, who has aspirations of becoming a beloved patron saint, and escapes to live in a community of mystical nuns. At a time when marriage and motherhood were basically all that was expected of a young girl, to seek out a life of devotion, to become a mystic claiming you were on a conversational basis with God, was a hyper-independent and risky path to take. Very main-character energy. Jesus Christ might just be the perfect husband, he definitely doesn’t leave his dirty socks on the floor (I’ve been told).

I have been fascinated by the stories and lives of many medieval female Christian mystics like Margery Kempe, Catherine of Siena, and Julian of Norwich, all of whom broke convention, carved out autonomous lives for themselves, and lived fearlessly as visionaries. They were determined to seek out answers from the unknown, even if it cost them normal lives, steadfast in the belief of their ecstatic visions. I wish I believed in myself that much. Maybe that’s why I’ve written this show.

Though their world looked very different to the one we live in now, their spirit echoes through the centuries between us. They had the souls of storytellers, and I wanted to let their inspirational lives inspire me to make some live comedy. Visionary women passing on the baton. My own revelation!

I hope they would be proud/not offended. Something about their choice to lead lives of harsh asceticism, and never compromise their own fantastical inner worlds, makes me think they would have thrived at the Edinburgh Fringe. Options were very limited for women back then, and I certainly feel lucky I have access to antibiotics and Netflix, but maybe my mystical daydreams have been stemming from a bit of jealousy. Maybe this medieval cultural interest comes as a response to our overstimulation. We have too many options, and screens, and debit cards and so we romanticise a simpler way of life. The grass is always greener!

I love the vibrancy, whimsy and fantasy of the mid-century medieval revival culture, my current playlist is simply dripping in paisley and velvet (Gaudete by Steeleye Span may be the best song in the world?). The mood was one of storytelling and artistic flourish. It was grounded in reality and social issues but also had an element of the fantastical, with a lot of imagery around fairytales.

I think the renewed interest partly stems from a sense of perceived innocence in this type of media: the music is played with real, often wooden instruments and sung with raw voices unaltered by studio equipment and synthesisers, the clothes are often handmade and embroidered, everyone’s hair flows freely and life seems merry. It is very much based on authenticity and most importantly, connection. To the real world, to romance, to nature.

It’s basically the polar opposite to the life young people live now, a world dictated by fast fashion, social media and overconsumption. Perhaps we are craving this aesthetic that reminds us of childhood storybooks, and the safety that comes from those memories. I don’t think we want to live the actual historical past, I think we just want to revisit our past lives. So come see my show this Fringe for a dose of nostalgic whimsical escapism.

Bebe Cave’s show Christbride is at the Pleasance Dome, 5.40pm until 24 August. www.pleasance.co.uk

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