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Last updated October 15.

Oct. 15, 2012 issue

Infinite — and sacred — jest

Laughter is sacred space, By Ted Swartz

By Reviewed by Shirley Hershey Showalter

It’s been more than five years since the death of comic actor Lee Eshleman rocked the Mennonite world. That death transformed in an instant Ted Swartz, Lee’s acting partner, the other half of the team of Ted & Lee, who performed together to great applause at many youth conventions, churches, camps and retreat centers.

What could be more tragic than the death of a comedy team as a result of depression leading to suicide? What could be more incomprehens-ible, unimaginable?


As Ted Swartz tells the story, however, neither Lee Eshleman nor he were strangers to the incomprehensible and improbable. Actors come as close as they can to the edge without going over it. Those who were close to Eshleman knew that he struggled with depression. On stage, however, no one knew.

Ted & Lee were, after all, the first really funny, really good, really famous (in Mennonite and other Christian circles) Mennonite actors. No, they weren’t as famous as The Simpsons, whose creator had a Mennonite father and a grandfather who taught at Tabor College. But when media-savvy teens watched Ted & Lee perform at Mennonite youth conventions, they might well have thought, “These guys could be on TV!” Sometimes the highest praise came as a backhanded jab to them and others working in the church. Many talented Mennonites have heard the question: “What are you doing here?”

Swartz’s book, Laughter Is Sacred Space, attempts to answer that question and a few others as well: How did you get here? What are you trying to do? And where do you go now, after Lee?

The answers to these questions are supplied by the same comic voice (enriched by spiritual over- and undertones) that has delighted audiences on stage for decades. As a memoirist, Swartz brings his knowledge of dramatic structure and makes it visible. He divides the book into a prologue and five “acts” instead of chapters, with “scenes” in each of four acts and a short “denouement” as Act 5.

The memoir itself innovates by using a collage technique familiar to those who enjoy postmodern novels. The use of photos, drawings, excerpts from scripts and footnotes create on the page the feel, and even the look, of staged drama. I was reminded more than once of David Foster Wallace’s novel Infinite Jest (1996), wherein a complex narrative with many subplots is supplemented by lengthy endnotes almost as entertaining as the body of the text. (The analogy is all the more poignant because David Foster Wallace, also a victim of depression, took his own life at age 46 in 2008.)

Swartz doesn’t just call jest infinite. He goes even further; he calls it sacred. He doesn’t spell out an elaborate philosophy or theology of laughter. He just makes you laugh. And then think. And sometimes cry. Rather like God does with such characters as Noah and Sarah and Jacob and Thomas. The closest Swartz comes to explaining is this: “Sometimes the best kind of God-work happens when you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Swartz’s life story reminds me of the best features of the Mennonite community. Swartz describes the reason he married young and is still exuberantly married as “naïve persistence.” When someone asks what he does for a living, he says, “Overcome obstacles.” Under all the risk and edginess of being one of the first Mennonites to venture into the treacherous world of live theater while remaining in the church and not just of it, there’s a young meat cutter still working in his father’s business, still wanting to give the customer a side of laughter with a slab of beef.

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  • I could not have said it better! I received the book, late one day, and devoureditmthe next, in one reading, interrupted only by one meal. I simply could not put it down!

    In the midst of recovery from my own current depression, I found myself smiling, laughing, feeling the healing, but it was at one point, I just had to stop, because within me, then out of me, welled such a deep need to cry, not only for Lee, whom I have met only briefly, occasionally; not only for Ted, whose anguish was palpable, but for myself, and the irretrievable losses incurred, (relational, financial, spiritual), for the whole lot of us.

    It was cleansing, as it was healing, as my tears mysteriously mixed with those of Lee, Ted, and the thousands of us, in whom rests this hyper-sensitivity, this unbalanced sense of anguish for all that's not right, in our world, in our lives, thoughts, activities, minds, and souls! My soul was washed, somehow; my body released in some way, my brain was tilting or gyrating less!

    Thanks, Ted, for this courageous open heart surgery you have alllowed us to witness, to share with you, with Lee, and each other.

    - Clare Neufeld (oct 15 at 9:55 p.m.)

  • I meant to read only the first chapter then get some sleep, but this book took hold of me and MOVED me. I laughed, I cried, I laughed some more. I felt grief, again, for the loss of Lee who was a family friend and an amazing talent. And the rest of us, left behind to feel all these uncomfortable feelings of loss, anger, and disappointment... find an author willing to "go there" in Ted Swartz. I am grateful that God still touches us in all our wrestling and wincing. I am grateful that a reader acquainted with grief has found a fellow sojourner in Ted Swartz.

    - Carmen Shenk (oct 16 at 3:25 p.m.)

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