Reviewed by: Bartholomew Abominations Rob Conkie Bartholomew Abominations Presented by Graeae Theatre Company and Naked Productions on BBC Radio 4 from 7 November 2020. Written by Paul Sirett. Directed by Jenny Sealey and Polly Thomas. Sound Recording by Louis Blatherwick. Sound design and production by Eloise Whitmore. Original music by Oliver Vibrans. British Sign Language Interpretation by Caroline Richardson, Jeni Draper, Vikki Gee-Dare, and Chandrika Gopalakrishnan. Executive Production by Jeremy Mortimer. With Liz Carr (Mrs. Purecraft), Jack Hunter (John), Chloe Ewart (Ursula), Stacey Ghent (Alice), Stephen Collins (Tom), Michael Golab (Ned), Garry Robson (Best), and Mina Anwar (Hobbs). When was the last time you experienced theater that turned you inside out? For me, this one did. When was the last time a theatrical production changed not just the way you view the world, but how you operate within it? For me, this one did. Bartholomew Abominations, a radio play co-production between the Deaf and disabled theater company Graeae and audio production company Naked Productions, uses Ben Jonson’s riotous Bartholomew Fair as a launchpad for a much darker, anti-carnivalesque tale. In brief, the abominations are the political energies that facilitate two hundred wedding fairs spread across England in the year 2032. The action of the radio play is set at the “St. Bartholomew Exhibition and Conference Centre in London,” where one such wedding fair takes place. The flesh that is traded at the fairs is that of marriage hopefuls, individuals prepared to undergo speed dating and arbitrary matrimony in order to secure an English-born partner and therefore escape the punishment promised to those who do not march to the New Puritan Party’s ideological drum. Thus, the Home Secretary Sir Michael Best, beautifully and skin-crawlingly played by Garry Robson, broadcasts to those at the fair a rhetoric both horrifically dystopian and yet all-too-familiar: At midnight tonight all non-English born persons and deaf, blind, disabled, and neurodiverse persons without proof of intended marriage to an English-born, able-bodied English person are to be rounded up [. . .]. Those of foreign blood will be deported to the country of their birth. Those with disabilities will be re-located to one of the government’s new facilities where they will be held until our proud country is free from the taint of disability forever [. . .]. People of England, the New Puritan Party is ready. Are you ready? Because together we will be free. We will make England English again! [End Page 310] Opposed to this abhorrent viciousness are a number of covert activists, chief among them the so-called Voice. The Voice—reader, you must expect SPOILERS from here on, and I recommend you listen to the recording before continuing with this review—is the first voice that we hear. It is a distorted voice, audio scrambled to preserve dissident anonymity. The Voice tests this distortion by anticipating the first phrase of Sir Michael’s speech, but with an additional clarification: “At midnight tonight, mass deportations begin.” The only hints that the person changing their voice might not be sinister are the ironic responses to the initial attempts: “I sound like Satan” and then “that’ll do.” But in the experience of listening to the play for the first time, and without reading along with the script, this is a disconcerting opening, a promise of danger and violence. The next sounds are harmonious, if anodyne: chamber music designed to establish a wedding fair atmosphere. Here, two women—Ursula and Alice—attempt to set up their marriage booth. They are interrupted by a police officer and their authorization to be there is questioned. Just as the police officer threatens to expose them, “The sound of several text, WhastApp, Facebook, Instagram alerts go[es] off at the same time” and the Voice hack broadcasts the message tested earlier to mobile devices and through the wedding fair public address system. The police officer, realizing this is serious but not sure why, excuses himself. As the play progresses, the audience soon learns that Ursula and Alice, who regularly and tenderly express their love for one another, are in league with the Voice, and have infiltrated the marriage-selling operation in order...