Victory Song - A Reader Writes

Death of a Circus

I read Chandra Prasad's On Borrowed Wings and loved it.  So I was delighted to learn that she had written an earlier novel, Death of a Circus.  Who loves a circus more than me?!

This was an interesting story.  Not all that joyous, but certainly full of the kind of human endeavor that makes Americans believe in the entrepreneurial spirit and the value of hard work.  It's full of references and based on research of the independent circuses of the early 1920's, before Ringing Brothers bought them all out.  What a crazy business this is!  They were in the transportation business and construction business as much as they were in show business.  There were classes of workers - performers ranked above ticket takers, for instance.  It even has a sad and poignant elephant tale that rivals Water for Elephants(which I loved and recommend!) in adoration and celebration of these wild, sentient and compassionate creatures.

What I loved about it is that the performers - and even the "Roustabouts" (who do the dirty work of set up, clean up and tear down) - are never more beautiful and alive and whole as when the crowd is awestruck.  Even the freaks put on a show that is heart-wrenching in both longing as well as pride.  These moments of giving - of putting yourself on a platter for the enjoyment of others - made life on the road worthwhile.

And isn't that why we all love a circus?  It's a gift.  It's wild and scary and beautiful and pure joy.  It's the best of us, reflected.

There is many a myth about life under the big top.  Prasad's story humanizes that life, and shows that people are still people - equally selfish and generous, as well as ambitious dreamers.  Definitely makes me want to run away and join the circus. 

Maybe I will!

The Story of Edward Sawtelle

This is a story of self esteem.  A story of jealousy and murder.  A love story.  A story of redemption.  And a story of how loyal dogs are, and what intelligent, beautiful friends they can be.  This is The Story of Edward Sawtelle, by David Wroblewski.

At first I didn't like it.  Too slow going and a bit boring, and a LOT of information on dog training which I have but a mild interest in. But my friend Sophie recommended it and she has great taste in books, so I kept at it.  I'm glad that I did, although I didn't ever really fall in love with it.  I did find myself enjoying the story, and I liked the character development.  The fantasy/ghost story parts of it make it almost magical and I felt took away from the impact of the story.  It's a wonderful tale of how we genuinely aim to connect as people (and with dogs) but in reality totally miss each other most of the time.  Despite that, our human frailty at bonding and understanding each other gives us both hope as well as hopelessness.  And we would be well served by aiming for the unconditional love and support that great dogs demonstrate.

I'm not sure how else to describe this book. It rambles, and it is a lot of chapters to tell a pretty simple story.  But the length works to advantage, as you get toward the end and final climax and you have spent so much time in the heads of these characters that you totally understand every move.  The guy you detested you really detest. You alternately cheer and boo Edward's mother.  The dogs are awesome to the end.   You fall in love witih Henry Lamb.  And as for Edward - I believe he finds some sort of peace.  With himself and his regrets.  I'm glad I stuck it out.

I think I'll give this one to my brother Gary who will appreciate the dogs, and also the wide open style.  you can find the book here.

Equus on Broadway

Starring Harry Potter (actor Daniel Radcliffe) and featuring horses, Equus seems like every nine year old girl's dream Broadway production! 

Ah, unfortunate irony.  The story is equal parts disturbing and inspiring.  It's primal.  And terrifying in that way that horror fascinates us.  Not at all fodder for young people. 

Richard Griffiths plays Martin Dysart, the juvenile psychiatrist working with troubled 17-year old Alan Strang (played by Radcliffe).  Strang has been sent to the reform ward of the local mental hospital (instead of jail) by a caring magistrate.  His crime is hauntingly gruesome and utterly troubling: He blinds six horses in a fierce act of cruel violence.  Dysart calms the boy and the play is basically a reenactment of all the memories and actions that led to the violence.  Griffiths' doctor is so insightful that he helps us see that given the circumstances, the violent conclusion is not only comprehensible, but actually caused by a passion for life that few us ever experience. 

As he "cures" Strang, he regrets the loss of this passion.  It's an incredibly disturbing and sad play on many levels - the horror of the violence, the compassion we feel for the troubled boy, the admiration we have for his passion and the sadness we have at the stifling of that passion. Of course it must be stifled. Otherwise, Strand can not function in society.  Of course, cruelty of this measure is not acceptable for any reason.  But the play teaches us that passion out of control is just as sad and unspeakable as the acts we perform from a life of no passion at all. 

This is Radcliffe's first Broadway and nearly first stage performance and I thought he did a fine job. Much of the character is extremes, which are easier to play. But Radcliffe also does well with a series of scenes were he is both acting his own memories and narrating them to the doctor.  So Radcliffe has to move in and out of the action as player and observer, and he does so seamlessly.  The role is pretty physical and includes a long scene performed nude - an aspect that would be rather intense and unnerving for your stage debut, I should think. 

All the interviews that I've seen indicate that Radcliffe chose this play in part because Griffiths agreed to also do it and they have a very strong onstage connection that must extend to real life.  It's a great first play for Radcliffe also because it is so challenging and revealing - if you are going to shake off the cloak of Harry Potter, you best do it with a very strong and different role.

I definitely recommend Equus - it's not cheery, but it's really really well done.

Faust in Technicolor at The Met

From the "Devil goes to Hollywood" department, the Metropolitan Opera production of Hector Berlioz's 1846 The Damnation of Faust is 90% production and 10% opera.  Or maybe it's just 100% highly produced opera?  If you have ADD, this is the opera for you!

I loved it for the spectacle, which tended to overshadow the singing, but I quickly got over my snobbish resistance - "They call this an opera? It's a light show!" - and settled in to enjoy it.  It's sensory overload with arias.

Imagine a four story, 12-block Hollywood Squares set up of connected cubbyholes, with steel girders framing a series of "green screens" (you know, the ones they use for weather reports where you can project anything on it).  The singers emerge and reflect giving everything a surreal, dream-like warmth, and are supported by a troupe of dancers and acrobats, along with the largest chorus I've seen in an opera.   The chorus suddenly appears throughout the show, beautifully supporting the music, and every time I was amazed.  Where did they come from? How did they get 50 singers on stage without any of us noticing?!  That is the power of the screens which drape the entire stage structure.

The screens are used to create depth, warmth, surprise and terror as they transport us from dusty library to raucous tavern to cool fields in autumn to a quiet mansion to the consuming fires of love that Mezzo Soprano Susan Graham sings beautifully as a simulcast of herself is projected in giant form behind her.  Is this a rock concert?  Am I still at the Met?

As Faust prays, the daring acrobats appear to hang from nowhere as Jesus on the crucifix - suddenly they are there, bathed in red light atop a white cross - first one, then six men hanging... and suddenly, they are gone as the lights shift, music breaks and Faust looks up from prayer to see the devil himself mocking his piety.  The bass-baritone John Relyea who plays Mephistopheles (devil) was the best of the singers, with his long red feather cap giving him a rakish and spooky devilish posture.  But then again, I'm a sucker for both the baritone, and the bad boy!

At the end, Faust literally plummets three stories to hell - where the male chorus stands shirtless and bathed in bright flames.  They stand motionless, condemned to a horrible fate, and the deep music rumbles under our seats and around the building.  They have become immune to beauty and stand in terror-induced stupor.  Even the singing stops when the unspeakable "welcome" by the Devil to Faust begins.

Imagine the precision of the production - where the projections, lighting, dancers and acrobats must accommodate to live music - and a four story stage.  It was truly awesome.

It makes total sense that producer Robert LePage is of Cirque du Soliel fame - you can see it in the fantastic production value.  It's high tech, and high art - and classical music.   I left with stars in my eyes, literally blinking from the constant motion on stage, and of course humming the final crescendo.