Which Reminds Me

Why all this chatter about Bartholomew Fair, a not-so-illustrious drama written in 1614 by one of Shakespeare's would-be imitators, Ben Johnson, focusing on an event illustrating the seedy side of lower class London? I blush to explain it in the presence of children who might be reading this. Some might describe Bartholomew Fair as the Disneyland of its time, the Renaissance era, but without the security and technology of our modern times, its reality was much less glorious and served as a magnet for criminal elements and shameless hucksters, even if its original purpose in medieval times had been charitable, that of raising funds for a hospital. Victorians closed it down in the mid-19th century and perhaps for good reason. It is often said that not everything that calls itself Christian is worthy of the name. Likewise, not everything that calls itself Bartholomew Fair can be construed as saintly or even fair. Perhaps even Bartholomew himself might prefer to reserve his name for a more noble purpose than amusement park rollercoasters and ferris wheels, carnival games and freak shows that mainly part people from their spare dollars. Well, money makes the world go round, as the song goes, and the charitable gong does have its promoters, perhaps. But I am not in the amusement park business so it is really not my place to comment. I really wouldn't know what they are getting at.