The Towneley Noah play stages an environmental catastrophe from which Noah and his family take refuge in a giant ship--a lifeboat, of sorts--purpose-built for the occasion. While the agent of that catastrophe is Deus, who deluges the world as an act of divine vengeance, the cause of the Flood--according to Deus--is humanity’s sinful behaviours, chief among which is an insatiability or gluttony. As Deus puts it (in our adaptation), “But in great reproof, full low they [humans] be, / Stuffing themselves with sin, which displeases me / Most of all.”

When we planned our performance, it seemed to us that climate change would serve as a context for the play’s catastrophic flooding. Yet as we rehearsed the play over the summer, other, more specific catastrophic events presented themselves as contexts. First, nuclear catastrophe resulting from international conflict seemed suddenly a very real possibility. And, second, many places suffered and continue to suffer extraordinary flooding. Exceptional monsoons in India, Bangladesh, and Nepal have caused severe flooding, devastation, and death. Tropical storm Harvey released unprecedented rainfall on south Texas, inundating Houston.

​These catastrophes make real what the Towneley Noah play can only stage indirectly. An example of disaster lit, the play depicts an end-of-the-world-level catastrophe, challenging us to consider the causes--environmental and moral--of such destruction. While the play offers an orthodox cause of the Flood--humanity’s sin caused Deus to send it--the play nevertheless registers horror at the destruction’s extent. Noah exits the ark, remarking that “Neither cart nor plough / Is left...nor tree nor bough / Nor anything / But all’s swept away; / Many castles…[and] Great towns...Washed away with this flooding.” Omitting any reference to the rainbow, this play qualifies the easy understanding of the rescue of Noah, his family, and animals. Instead, the play turns our attention to the ruins of what has been swept away and of the haunted landscape Noah and his family will inhabit.

In a way, such concluding destruction is very familiar to us. Set-pieces of extravagant destruction conclude almost all blockbuster movies (the ends of Man of Steel and Avengers: Age of Ultron are exemplary in this respect). But in contrast to these scenes, the Towneley Noah stages a mournfulness in its conclusion, a recognition that destruction represents not a shiny new beginning (or sequel) but the loss of a world. And while Noah exudes a heavy self-righteousness--he can't help but drive home the play's orthodox "lesson"--he nevertheless recognizes that he and his family have not inherited a world wiped clean. Rather, it's a world stained by catastrophic loss, a loss that haunts Noah and his family, refugees in unfamiliar territory.