Sap

by Rafaella Marcus

The bark creeps up my body like a rising sea level. I wonder what will happen when it reaches my heart.

When a woman tells a lie to her girlfriend, a seed is planted that starts to grow in the darkness. Now roots are cracking through the pavement and branches are coming in at the windows. As she starts to see things that no one else can, she becomes the focus of some seriously unwanted attention.

A queer urban fable about passion, power and photosynthesis, a contemporary thriller with ancient roots, Rafaella Marcus's Sap, her first full-length stage play, opened at Roundabout @ Summerhall, as part of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, in August 2022.

Genres: Plays, Theatre

78 pages, Kindle Edition

Published August 25, 2022

Reviews

[Mahtab Safdari · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m not a great fan of monologues, as the form sacrifices one of the most intriguing aspects of a play: dialogue—the pleasant, though sometimes unsettling sensation of eavesdropping, of witnessing the most intimate moments between characters, their arguments, their concealments and revelations. Yet, there are times when a playwright’s decision to craft a play as a monologue is not only justified but even feels like a courageous choice. They relinquish the powerful tool of human exchange in favor of another literary device that aligns more closely with fiction: direct access to the character’s inner world, allowing their thoughts, doubts, and emotions to be shared openly with the audience. Rafaella Marcus chooses to tell her story through a monologue—a decision that is not only bold but also proves to be the most fitting choice for this narrative, making her play both compelling and unforgettable.
Sap reimagines the myth of Daphne—the nymph who transforms into a laurel tree to escape Apollo—through a contemporary lens. In Marcus’s version, the myth’s pursuit is reframed as a toxic love triangle. The central conflict arises from a lie Daphne tells her new girlfriend to conceal a recent one-night stand with a man. This lie, seemingly minor at first, becomes a seed that takes root and begins to grow—consuming her from within.
The play deftly explores the psychological and emotional consequences of this deception, shedding light on a rarely acknowledged reality: bisexual women face a heightened risk of intimate partner violence. Daphne’s experience, and the chilling aftermath of her encounter, becomes a poignant commentary on both sexual and psychological abuse.
Marcus’s use of botanical imagery is particularly striking. As the lie festers and the emotional damage deepens, Daphne’s body begins to transform—sprouting bark, branches, and leaves. This metaphor is layered and evocative, representing not only the trauma she endures but also her evolution, her resilience, and the complex interplay between vulnerability and strength.
Genre-wise, Sap resists easy categorization. It shifts fluidly between romantic comedy, psychological thriller, and introspective drama. Just as the audience begins to settle into one mode, the play pivots—subverting expectations and challenging assumptions about its characters and their fate. With its lyrical writing, bold structure, and emotional depth, Sap stands as a testament to how the form of drama can evolve while remaining deeply human.

[Issy Fleming · Rating 4 out of 5]

Intruiging

[Amanda Grace · Rating 5 out of 5]

This one was gorgeous, everything beautiful and unwillingly resilient about the elemental dual. Sap calls out the violence done to bisexuals by those threatened by their abundance in succinct and sweet form. Must those who see the beauty in all things pay some sort of price? Can we ever go back to our roots and rest as we are? Marcus brushes up against something deeply tired and skeptical of hope, but caresses that wound as they meet it.

[Ceraphina · Rating 4 out of 5]

While I know the greater issue tackled in this book is domestic violence, especially domestic violence against bisexual women (are we real? Who knows)

This was also a satire to one of my greatest feared dilemmas - having a one night stand with a random ish man, only then after meeting and falling in love with a women and find out it’s my girlfriends psychotic brother as the last man I slept with.

[Ceraphina Malone · Rating 5 out of 5]

While I know the greater issue tackled in this book is domestic violence, especially domestic violence against bisexual women (are we real? Who knows *sarcasm)

This was also a satire to one of my greatest feared dilemmas - having a one night stand with a random ish man, and only then after meeting and falling in love with a women and to find out it’s my girlfriends psychotic brother as the last man I slept with.

[Michael Haddad · Rating 4 out of 5]

Partner had seen this play and told me to read this. I read it in one sitting. Really enjoyed the central voice. Bisexuality is definitely underexplored (as far as I'm aware) and this did a great job of providing an entertaining, and somewhat bleak meditation on it.

[mari 🦋 · Rating 4 out of 5]

“The bark creeps up my body like a rising sea level. I wonder what will happen when it reaches my heart.”

[Ben Willows · Rating 5 out of 5]

There's something inevitably lacking, approaching this without performance. But it remains a hilarious, relatable, heartbreaking, ethereal piece of art. I saw it twice at Fringe, and I will see it many times more. British theatre is not ready for Rafaella Marcus.