91Èȱ¬

From comedian & writer Paul Kerensa:

As a comedian, every August part of me yearns for the Edinburgh Fringe. A thousand colleagues are there right now, eyeing up the Award formerly-known-as-Perrier. First won by one Cambridge Footlights troupe, with – it’s safe to say – the best sketch show line-up that’s ever existed: Tony Slattery, Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, and of course, Dame Emma Thompson, you way-paver, you...

Ìý

When it started, the Fringe was a ‘fringe’, to the bigger international festival next door. Nowadays, it’s outgrown its more serious neighbour. On Edinburgh’s Royal Mile, you’ll have flyers thrust at you by several actors dressed as gorillas wearing tutus… but not see a single office worker. The previously eccentric is the new norm.

Ìý

The landscape shifts all the time. In the dozen or so shows I’ve taken up, I’ve been called ‘a bit edgy’, then ‘far from edgy’ – having a pretty clean show – then edgy again because no one else was being clean. I guess if everyone’s going for edgy, the edge gets pretty crowded. If everyone’s saying the unsayable, what’s left to say?

Ìý

Beyond the arts, the fringes are becoming mainstream too. Fringe beliefs and viewpoints are eyeing up centre-stage. The unsayable is said, tweeted and shared – while the old mainstream heads to the fringes. Like my own Christian faith, formerly the religion of the masses… Now ±õ’m unusual as a churchgoer. Perhaps the church fits better on the margins, rather than a centrepiece of the nation, a collection of nice old buildings.

Ìý

That familiar tale of The Good Samaritan rings true as ever: The injured person by the wayside, ignored by mainstream passers-by. It’s the marginalised Samaritan – used to life on the fringes – who stopped and helped the poor fellow. Martin Luther King reckoned those walking past were too busy asking themselves: ‘If I stop and help, what will happen to me?’

Ìý

Dancing through this changing world, meeting kooks and crazies on the fringes, moments of compassion can be mini acts of rebellion. Empathy and care may not feel like the norm. I know I need to stop more for those who need help, not set my sights on the middle of the road ahead, like ±õ’m being flyered by that actor dressed as a gorilla wearing that tutu.

Ìý

It’s good to pause in thought, but it’s something special to pause in deed, thinking ‘if I stop and help, what will happen to them?’