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At the Royal Court last night, to see Jerusalem, by Jez Butterworth. An astonishingly rich play, with a truly incredible central performance by Mark Rylance (as Johnny “Rooster” Byron, pictured). They’ve extended the run. This is a must see.

I’ll be thinking about Jerusalem for a long time. There’s so much to it, although it manages to cram it all in without ever turning boring or pretentious. It reminded me of Angela Carter - the short story “Overture and Incidental Music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, in particular - and the best bits of Neil Gaiman. He’s also recreated A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and this is what Butterworth does here, with Rylance as a Puckish Lord of Misrule.

Gaiman has often lamented Fairie’s departure from the real world. Butterworth makes the same point here, but instead of connecting it to the loss of childhood in the normal way he connects it to adolescence - that strange, unnerving time when sex undermines reality. The constriction of adolescence is a major theme here - Rylance’s character deals drugs to the local teenagers. Like Carter, who pictures the Puck with an enormous, irrepressible erection, Butterworth sees the sexuality of all those folk tales.

I was also strongly reminded of Darkmansby Nicola Barker. Like Jerusalem, Darkmans is a brilliant portrait of contemporary Britain - there’s a superb portrait of a feckless builder - but it’s also a strange, mystical book, deeply concerned with myth and history. At ten million pages, it’s too long for its slightly disappointing ending, but it’s still an excellent read. If you enjoyed Jerusalem, I suggest you start here.

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