
The Play of Adam (Anonymous)
12th century

Theme: Liturgical drama and the performance of biblical authority.
Thinking Through Michel Foucault (1926-1984)’s Philosophy on the Art Essence
In The Play of Adam—the earliest known vernacular drama of medieval Europe—we witness the theatrical transformation of scripture into embodied moral architecture. When viewed through Michel Foucault’s The History of Sexuality, Volumes 2 and 3 and his broader concepts from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, this sacred drama becomes a revelatory instance of how theatre was used not merely to transmit divine law but to sculpt the Christian subject through a visualized technology of obedience.
Foucault contends that early Christianity marked a shift from classical askēsis—the self's cultivation of balance and restraint—to a confessional technology of the self rooted in sin, guilt, and salvation. The Play of Adam serves as both ritual and pedagogy in this process, staging not just biblical narrative but also the very process of moral subjectivation.
Eve’s temptation, Adam’s fall, and their expulsion are dramatized not only as mythic events but as mirrors held up to the audience—urging them to internalize guilt, practice vigilance, and remain transparent before the omniscient gaze of God. This aligns with Foucault’s analysis of how confession becomes central in Christian ethics: the subject must ceaselessly scrutinize the self, unveil its hidden desires, and submit to judgment. The theatre here does not liberate; it disciplines.
Moreover, the physical staging of The Play of Adam—often on cathedral steps—enacts Foucault’s insight into spatial regimes of power. Just as monasteries, hospitals, and schools became “heterotopias” of disciplinary observation, the theatre too becomes a liminal zone where spectators are called not to watch passively but to perform introspection. The hierarchy between actor and viewer dissolves into a shared obligation to embody Christian virtues.
The Devil’s dialogue in the play reveals a Foucauldian layer of governmentality. Satan does not coerce but seduces through reasoned speech—a tactic echoing Foucault’s insight that power in Christianity operates through desire, not only prohibition. By watching the Devil tempt Eve, the audience is taught the techniques of resistance. But paradoxically, they are also trained to recognize their inner Devil—the whispering voice that must be confessed, exorcised, and managed.
In sum, The Play of Adam is not merely the beginning of European drama. It is an apparatus of ethical formation, an example of how theatre becomes a space of soulcraft: forming not just citizens or believers, but subjects regulated by an inner tribunal.