Edgar writes the Theatre & Arts Column for the Daily Prophet. His philosophy is that if someone has a voice, they have to use it to do good; this means that on the one hand one has to push art to its limits or even further, and on the other hand one has to make those voices heard which don’t have a platform yet.
Edgar’s Introduction to Theatre
Much like most families with comfortably filled wallets, the Bones would take their children to the theatre on the weekends quite often. Most of the children adored it but also took it somewhat for granted -- which made the culture shock of moving to England only worse. There are theatres in Hastings, yes but they are small and not at all as dramatic and colourful as what the Bones had grown to know in Mexico. They lacked imagination! And since there was no theatre club at Hogwarts either, it was only on his first trip to London at the age of thirteen that Edgar rediscovered his love for this art.
After that, he began reading and loving play-scripts more than novels, eventually writing down his thoughts, comparing, analysing, interpreting with fervor and a very new, strange sensation growing within him: passion. For someone who found interest in literally anything he encountered (except Quidditch), it was a surprise to many to see Edgar so into something (though one might not forget that his new love for theatre came around the same time as he was beginning to grow apart from Amelia). His friends from school might still remember that one of the best ways to get Edgar talking in a social situation was by expressing a badly thought-out opinion about theatre. Suddenly the shy boy who so often was accused of boot-licking would throw himself into passionate speeches about love, death and every other grand topic of life inbetween.
(One of his favourite topics, that is, urban legends he loved to ramble about for hours was Mundungus Fletcher. Each and every article covering the fiasco was bought six times and each and every time Fletcher’s photograph was cut out and glued to various surfaces; Edgar’s notebooks, the under-side of the topbunk above him, the walls in his room at home. It was the same grotesque-fascination-turned-unstopple-obsession that the Muggle play Cats had about ten years later).
It was during this time also that Edgar began reading the news. Initially he only ever snatched the arts section (despite its terribly boring focus on mainstream theatre), he’d eventually also begin reading the other articles, finding himself growing more and more educated and opinionated about political topics, too.
His passion ended where the stage began, though. He never tried to direct a play, write one himself, or -- Morgana forbid! -- tried to star in one. He was quite content to be but an observer. However, after graduating and leaving England to finally go back to Mexico, he fell in love with an actress of a small travelling troupe (and shortly after with her brother, the director), and before he knew it, he was travelling around the world with them.
When he came back to England, he wrote for the hebdomadal East Sussexian Wizarding paper, simply because the owner was a good friend of the Bones family and needed someone to fatten up the paper with some think-pieces. Edgar neither saw his calling in that nor ever made a name for himself, he was mostly just passing his time, trying to figure out what he really wanted to do with his life. It was only when he met up with Ainsley Abbott again around his 19th birthday that he began considering journalism as a proper career. She’d told him that the Daily Prophet was looking for a new arts columnist and remembered that he had always had a thing for theatre.
London’s Theatres
Contrary to movies, most other Muggle art isn’t completely disregarded by the Wizarding World. Of course one will always find some bloodpurists who think that all magicless art isn’t worth their time, but the more commonly agreed upon opinion is that when it comes to old-fashioned art, Muggles aren’t all that bad at it. The Daily Prophet has therefore always covered the Wizarding Westend as well as the Muggle Westend productions, giving the former more attention but never discriminating between them all too much. They are, after all, similar in many regards: the leads will most likely be traditionally good-looking, born and raised in this country and culture, and introduced to the director by personal connections. The themes of the plays perpetuate conservative values and ideals and have to please the broadest audience possible, therefore not contain any smut or controversial themes.
They’re usually even located in the same buildings as the Muggle theatres, either in magically hidden back halls or underground:
“Two, reserved on the Daily Prophet.”
The lady behind the counter, despite looking just like the other ticket vendors next to her, gave it a nod and handed them their keys. They were small little copper things, meant for a one time use of a door that was titled: “Staffs Only”.
Muggles had this thing to believe that theatres were haunted. The possibility of that, considering just how few people actually died in such places compared to normal apartment houses, were slim, and the idea absurd once you knew what truly caused the mysterious whispers, the unexplained floor-board creaking, and distant moaning: A second theatre down below. Wizarding. Vibrant, crowded, cheerful.
Not having even yet reached the first floor below, the music already met Edgar and Amelia. The chit chat was lively, and unlike the Muggle theatre above, time had not changed the customs of exhibitions and shows here: Roasted-nut sellers were walking around with their goods on a tray hanging down their neck, a fire-spitter was entertaining a group of kids in a corner, and on the stage stood one of the actors, cheering and shouting blurbs about the play in an attempt to motivate the audience. No seats but on the upper balconies, were ladies sat whose robes were so fluffy and wide that their companions for the night attempting to sit next to them probably needed to shout to have their words heard.
The idea to even pay attention to those independent artists who always seem angry or angsty, who always seemed so desperate to speak up about issues that no respectable Wizard would care about? It was unheard of by the general Wizarding Public who didn’t have a great variety of news outlets.
It was only when Edgar accepted his job as the new arts columnist that the ‘Off Westend’ productions -- that is, the exhibits shown in garages, the plays held on rooftops, the stories told by otherwise drowned voices -- were finally given a platform through and by the Daily Prophet.
Edgar’s Own Private Resistance
For about eight years now, Edgar’s been publishing little articles of about 300 to 500 words a day which are usually reviews and recommendations, as well as longer think-pieces on the Sunday edition. They’re all signed E.V.Bones (or at times solely E.V.B when the space is spare), much like his letters, so it all depends on the wit of a person whether they know who is writing the column or not. It’s earning him 6 to 10 galleons per piece, that is 40 to 70 galleons a week, which (at least in modern equivalent) is 210 to 350 pounds a week, so he’s not poor but also far from becoming rich with this. As of now, he never considered changing his job, though. Partly due to the fact that he gets to see all sorts of plays for free, partly because he usually does all his work at the office only once a week (usually a 12 hour work day) and has the rest of the week to deal with Order business. But most importantly he’s still at the Daily Prophet because it allows him to fight this war in his own, quiet terms.
Upon reviewing a play, Edgar always asks two questions: how does this further the progress of art, and how does this further the progress of society? While the opinions in his writing are always expressed quite subtly (as otherwise, Edgar’s arch nemesis Kenny Mack, his editor and son of the Daily Prophet’s current owner, will simply censor out what might be too controversial for the general readership), they’re never suppressed or gentle, certainly never excuse conservative, problematic productions.
(It was because of one of those harsher reviews of his that he met the then-adored Lydia Avery, who he had equated to a piece of morning toast -- something you thoroughly enjoy in the moment itself but would never crave if hungry or a somewhat interesting person. Most of his review had been about the blatant racism of the play, though, and and yet, while up until this day Lydia might still be upset about it, Edgar never left their conversation with anything other than appreciation for her. He’s well aware that actors are a symptom of an ill society, not the illness itself.)
The idea that he could use his job for something bigger, something good, came the night after Ainsley had suggested he take the job at the Daily Prophet. “Me?” he had asked over a cup of tea, not even 20 years old then, not yet in the Order, not yet jaded and made brave by war, not yet used to the idea that every helping hand counted, “Reviewing art for the whole of Britain? Why would anyone care about what I have to say?” “They don’t,” Dell had replied in this earnest way of his, “but it’s not about you anyway. It’s about them. There’s people out there who have no one who listens to them, even though they have something to say, even though so many others want -- no! need! -- to hear what they have to say. It’s not about you. It’s about them. And you’re the one who’s going to make sure they’re heard.” “But the Daily Prophet? It’s so conservative.” “Not your column, it won’t be. Not if you write it.”
What his brother Dell was saying and what Edgar grew to understand over the years, was that there are so many Muggleborns and Halfbreeds out there who never see themselves represented in a positive, hopeful light in stories, or at least by the actors telling those stories. The mainstream theatre productions simply do not care to show such representation, to tell such diverse stories. It’s the back-alley theatres that dare to break the rules of what is acceptable, to break the norm, to help society and art evolve. And Edgar hopes that by writing about this, more people will be able to realise that they’re not alone. That there’s others like them, out there, everywhere. That despite the way the (relatively neutral) Daily Prophet reports it, Voldemort doesn’t have that many people on his side, at least not compared to just how many people are against him. By drawing attention to those smaller plays and their values, he helps to grow and foster a community where like-minded people can meet and share their opinions and realise that they’re not alone at all.
And thus, Edgar had accepted the job, his agenda of political nature, safely tucked between 8 and 11pm, and sometimes also during matinées.
