Fred LeBlanc
James Gehrt
wrights Horizons, Wasserstein’s great friend and one of the first producers to champion her work, once wrote about why he believed in her: “Because she is good and because she is serious.” The paradox of Wasserstein is that beneath the self-deprecating, giggly exterior lay a powerful will and a ferocious drive. This helped her scale the heights of Broadway—and also served to hide her insecurity, a lifelong struggle to reconcile what Salamon calls her “superiority/ inferiority.” She was better than everyone else, and she was also… nothing. Wasserstein seemed to carry a sliver of pain inside her like an embedded needle. The effort she put into constructing a wall of wit around her was both heroic and sad. And it’s the sadness I hear now, a doubt and regret pulsing beneath the bright surface of comedy, which gives her work its power. The jokes lower our defenses. Then she hits us with serious truths, like a martial artist delivering the perfect, graceful blow. But are the “truths” I discovered anew universal? Would young women today respond to Wasserstein as women did a generation ago? The students in Rundle’s seminar had much to say. Bryna Turner ’12 feels that Wasserstein’s characters bear little resemblance to the Mount Holyoke women of today. “We don’t wonder whether we’ll have a job or get married, or if being a woman is a problem,” she says. “Of course we’ll have a job! Mount Holyoke is teaching us that we’ll succeed, not in spite of being women but because of it.” It’s thrilling to see a young woman’s perfect confidence—and deflating to see an icon topple. But as the class progressed, others expressed different opinions. Miriam Cantor-Stone ’12 signed up for Rundle’s seminar because, she says, Wasserstein is not only her inspiration, but also a major reason she applied to Mount Holyoke. Cantor-
Stone feels that Wasserstein’s characters grapple with issues similar to those she and her friends confront: what does it mean to be a woman in today’s society? The balancing act between career and family, self and others, freedom and limitations is just as relevant today. On the one hand, we have Michelle and Hillary. On the other, Pussycat Dolls and “America’s Next Top Model.” The discussions were passionate and wide-ranging. Just as in Wasserstein’s time, the students disagree with one another, argue for what they believe in, take issue with others’ opinions—and remain fierce friends. As a finale to Rundle’s seminar that would have delighted Wasserstein, Turner responded to the diversity of opinion by writing her own play, Uncommon Womyn. Catapulting Wasserstein’s 1970s characters into the jangling, electronic present, the play was staged as a “cabaret” show following performances of the original Uncommon Women. Rooke Theatre filled with students Wasserstein would have recognized—laughing, raucous, opinionated, outspoken. Several played major roles in The Wendy Chronicles, rehearsing with director Don Sanders for the opening on commencement weekend. As they portray Wasserstein’s characters at various stages of life—just out of college, and later in their thirties, forties, and beyond—they seem also to be rehearsing for their own future lives. Lives that may include following Wasserstein’s path to create the next work of art to rock the world.
Mou n t Ho lyo k e Al u m na e Qua r t e r ly
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Summer 2012
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