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I’m actually kind of impressed with how few people were able to find the New Forum, and so with the promise of phpBB upgrades that’ll make things run a little better, I’ve decided to re-open the Old Forum. By all means, have a blast with that thing.
What can I say about this show that hasn’t already been said more eloquently by others, dozens of times before?
In case nobody else noticed, I’d like to point out that I’ve been unable to find anybody interviewed on that show in any prominent manner with a Phd in history, archaeology, or mythology, and series favourite, Swiss speculative journo Erich von Däniken, is especially lacking — he’s also the source for Carl Sagan’s famous quote, later (erroneously) applied to religious narratives by “large-A Atheists” (Sagan himself was not an atheist, but instead a a self-identified agnostic whose definition of Deity was very pantheist), “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence” in the “Encyclopaedia Galactica” episode of Sagan’s 1980 PBS series Cosmos; Sagan never outright dismissed von Däniken’s claims of pre-historic extra-terrestrial visitations, but made his opinion of its implausibility clear, pointing out that not a lick of real evidence exists to support such a notion so far outside the realm of known science.
While true that a lot of scientific breakthroughs have been made by delving into the realm of the seemingly-impossible, a lot of pseudoscience also goes there. To further quote Sagan, just because some geniuses are laughed at does not mean all who are laughed at are geniuses.
Furthermore, the stretches made to make even Graeco-Roman mythological narratives and Norse mythologies “match” (thus “supporting” the idea that “it was all the same aliens”) are even thinner than what Joseph Campbell makes to support his notion of a single unifying world mythos that has nothing to do with aliens. I think I actually felt daimons of stupidity whittling away some IQ points as some author or another made no attempts to “explain” that Thor’s hammer is somehow precisely analogous to Zeus’ thunderbolt, cos they’re both hand-held (no, that’s seriously his reasoning); this is the kind of thing that can make people stupider just for watching it.
The only way I can pardon this festering pile of crap for existing is that it’ll create a great litmus test for who and who not to take seriously in the reconstructionist community, but even then, it’ll just point out the bottom-of-the-barrel types that are to traditional polytheism what… I dunno, “indigo children” are to Wicca? Hell if I know, since this is such an irredeemably stupid show that it makes The Naked Archaeologist, which is already a show that makes ridiculous stretches with the facts in an effort to support a Judeo-Christioan biblical interpretation of “history” (and hosted not by an archaeologist, but a man with a Masters’ in “International Relations” and a Bachelors’ in Philosophy) look like Burkert, in comparison. The only reason this review is even on here is cos I got the bright idea in my head, after South Park‘s episode, “A History Channel Thanksgiving”, to DVR a few eppies for a larf, and could barely finish a single one, so overcome was I by the far stretches in basic logic, much less mythological “similarities”, and so flabbergasted than any-one in their right mind would give this concept a series that did not have the goal of dismantling every preposterous pseudo-archaeological notion that crosses the screen, but instead entertain it as having the same merit as archaeological Troy. The end result is that to anybody with more than two cells of grey matter to rub together for luck, it makes all the Murrayisms the Dianics just eat up seem far more plausible in comparison — and if you think that sounds ridiculous, then you at least have an idea how much Ancient Aliens will insult your intelligence.
Sure, as Carl Sagan once implied, surely anything is possible, especially when we mere mortals are only just beginning to understand the inner workings of the cosmos, but even at this stage in our understanding, extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, and Ancient Aliens fails to deliver the latter by any stretch of the imagination to even make it seem plausible.
Orfeo ed Euridice is an opera composed by Christoph Gluck. The original text was written by Ranieri De’ Calzabigi. This film, done during the 1982 Glyndebourne Opera Festival, stars Janet Baker as Orpheus, Elisabeth Speiser as Euridice, and Elizabeth Gale as Amore (Love). Because it tells the story of Orpheus, it provides an interesting case study for the portrayal and landscape of the underworld. Truthfully, I found its portrayal of the Gods and some of the characters … interesting … and I have made several screen caps because pictures are worth a thousand words.
The Setting: Portrayal of Orfeo and Euridice
Traditionally, a woman has played the role of Orfeo since the music industry stopped castrating young boys to keep their voices high, and the same is likely true for the role of Love. I took most issue with the portrayal of Euridice, who spends the entire return from Elysium harping at her husband about why he won’t look at her — she thinks it means that he has been unfaithful. Gluck has also added a moral: “Jealousy torments and destroys, but all is renewed by faithfulness.” The faithfulness of Orfeo is the only defense against women’s unfounded jealousies. Personally, as Euridice has a singing role, I wondered why Orfeo couldn’t just tell her about the arrangement.
I did enjoy some elements of the opera. At the beginning, it shows a montage of scenes from the wedding, but they are shown in a series of happy stills from a dance. The real section doesn’t begin until Euridice dies, and Orfeo is left alone on stage with a broken lyre. (Don’t worry, Love shows up and gives him another one, which turns out to be Apollon’s.) It was a very powerful image, and I greatly enjoyed most of his journey down to the Underworld.
The opera did not end well. The truly moving part of the real story — that Orpheus (Orfeo) loses Eurydice (Euridice) and founds the Orphic Mysteries as a result of his understanding of the way the Underworld works — cannot happen with the way this ends. In order to provide salvation through the initatiory experience, Orpheus must return alone, and he must be killed by the mainades. In Orfeo ed Euridice, Orfeo turns to look at Euridice and she dies a second time. He tries to kill himself, but Love comes to tell him that Orfeo’s faithfulness must be admired. Euridice is automatically restored, and they spend the last half hour of the opera singing and dancing for joy before walking into the sunset (and I will never get those thirty minutes back). The removal of the mystery religions from the opera makes its polytheism shallow, almost like an unworthy contestant to the dominant religious thinking of Gluck’s time.
What Orfeo ed Euridice Says About the Underworld: Thank Gods Gluck Didn’t Control the Stage Designers!
The depiction of the Underworld in Orfeo ed Euridice seems very standard. To travel there, Orfeo must go underground through many winding caverns. All of the action in the opera takes place along that road he travels, laid with bricks, and the various dangers Orfeo faces along the way must be quelled with his lyre.
At the opening of each act, we see Euridice’s soul passing through fog deeper into the Underworld. She arrives there only minutes before Orfeo comes to rescue her (just after an on-stage costume change into the clothes of the dead, an untied Ionic chiton).
During these short scenes, Euridice walks almost mechanically along the path, facing no opposition from the Furies at the gate; the way to Hades is easy for the dead. She has no psychopomp leading the way to the Underworld. Regardless, she makes her way to Elysium — a place with trees and ambient light where people sit calmly and peacefully. Even Orfeo admits Elysium is beautiful.
To Orfeo, Hades looks like Hell. At the double gate of the Underworld, a large number of Furies wait to oppose his ingress. I did not see Cerberus, but the Furies had bestial aspects portrayed through the spontaneous growth of hair in strange places on their bodysuits.
Orfeo’s gate is bleak and red-lit. His single voice must compete against many voices in the opera. Only through relying on the power of the lyre to quell opposition can he finally persuade them to let him through. They demand that he be terrified “if he be not a God.” The turning point in their encounter comes when Orfeo internalizes the Underworld. The words “I bear my own hell within me” are relatable to the Furies and represent the first piece of contact that quells their anger. Hades grows calmer the deeper he goes, and when he finally joins Euridice at Elysium, all of the frightening portions have fallen away.
Absence of Chthonic Gods
No Chthonic Gods figure into this opera at all. The Underworld seems unstaffed, as it were, although one of the women in the Elysium scene wears a crown that reminds me of Persephone. Zeus (or “Jove,” according to the opera) — not Hades — decides that Orfeo will have a chance to retrieve his wife. Love interferes on his behalf everywhere. He even shows up on the road out of Hades to stop Orfeo from killing himself.
During the long and tedious dance number at the end, the Olympioi actually show up. Apollon is — I kid you not — covered in gold dust.
Only Love has a speaking role. Zeus communicates primarily through gesture. All deities hang above the action.
Conclusion
I really disliked this opera. The act with the Furies came closest to a watchable moment, but the rhetoric about female jealousy at the end — and the lack of Orpheus mourning for the rest of his life — really spoiled it for me. The absence of Chthonioi was NOT accurate, especially considering that persuading Hades and Persephone through music is integral to the original story. All of these things rely on Gluck’s original telling of the tale. The portrayal of the Underworld, on the other hand, actually gets the setting right — probably because the ideas and concepts came from late 20th century stage designers. It provides the dead with someplace peaceful and good to go, and it has enough obstacles to keep the living out.
One of the most complex rock operas of the decade is Hadestown, conceptualized by musician Anaïs Mitchell and performed as a collaborative work with many artists and musicians. The rock opera has an apocalyptic, post-industrial Great Depression feel. In the words of Anaïs Mitchell, the work is meant to be a question about the limits of human compassion and cruelty:
Take global warming to its terrifying logical conclusion and imagine part of the world becomes uninhabitable and there are masses of hungry poor people looking for higher ground. [T]hen imagine you are lucky enough to live in relative wealth and security, though maybe you’ve sacrificed some freedoms to live that way. When the hordes are at the door, who among us would not be behind a big fence? These conditions exist already, but most of us don’t have to acknowledge them in a real way. (Themes of Hadestown, “History”)
The rock opera Hadestown uses the realm of Hades and its denizens in several ways. Firstly, it uses the landscape to highlight disparities of wealth and power among communities. Secondly, the connections it makes between characters — Hades and Persephone, Orpheus and Eurydice, and the restless dead — emphasize these connections and provide raw human emotions to fuel the changes that happen in the story. Finally, the mythological landscape utilizes the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice in very unique ways, and we will explore all of these things here. This is the last of three posts. You can read the first and second ones here.
Only one thing to be done
Let them think that they have won
Let them leave together
Under one condition
Orpheus, the undersigned
Shall not turn to look behind
She’s out of sight!
And he’s out of his mind!
If you read the myth in Ovid’s Metamorphoses (Books X-XI) or the texts that mention Orpheus and Eurydice in the Perseus Digital Library (primarily Apollodorus, but there are others) we see a myth that focuses on how Orpeheus’s heroism laid the foundation for the mysteries:
Now Calliope bore [...] Orpheus who practised minstrelsy and by his songs moved stones and trees. And when his wife Eurydice died, bitten by a snake, he went down to Hades, being fain to bring her up and he persuaded Pluto to send her up. The god promised to do so, if on the way Orpheus would not turn round until he should be come to his own house. But he disobeyed and turning round beheld his wife; so she turned back. Orpheus also invented the mysteries of Dionysus, and having been torn in pieces by the Maenads he is buried in Pieria. (Apollodorus, Library, Ch. 3.2).
Orpheus as the “prophet of our most sacred mysteries” appears even in court cases, and the renown he was given extended far beyond that of many other mortals (Demosthenes, Against Aristogiton). The pain of Orpheus is emphasized. In Ovid, Orpheus prays to descend for Eurydice a second time; he neglects himself and becomes a hermit in his anguish (Metamorphoses, Book X, ln. 103-122).
In Hadestown, the treatment of Orpheus and Eurydice is more equal, and the woman has the final word. While the myth Ovid relates begins at the wedding (Book X, ln. 1-11), the myth in Hadestown begins at the courtship. Eurydice, far from lovestruck, sensibly questions her lover’s intentions in “Wedding Song.” The song characterizes her poet fiancé as someone with his head in the clouds who has no idea how to realistically provide for the family. Even so, she marries him. “Hey Little Songbird” and “Gone, I’m Gone” follow Eurydice’s seduction into death, providing motivations and reasons beyond a simple serpent’s bite (and it is unclear whether a snake factors into the rock opera at all, making this a very stark deviation from mythological tradition).
Hadestown focuses primarily on relationships between people, and it skillfully separates the action of the myth into different sections. In Ovid, Orpheus sings one song to Zeus and Persephone; in Hadestown, “If It’s True” is primarily directed at Persephone, focuses on the despair of Orpheus and his frustration with the syatem; “Epic (Part II)” expands the middle of Orpheus’s song in the Metamorphoses (lines 36-43) to convince Hades to let Orpheus take Persephone. There is no discussion of a condition until the workers begin to riot. Hades’s final decision — that Orpheus cannot look at Eurydice on the way out of the Underworld — comes in a moment of personal desperation, and it is designed to sabotage the lovestruck poet.
The mysteries hardly factor into Hadestown at all. While we know in traditional accounts that Orpheus founded some really important Mysteries, the action in the rock opera ends when Orpheus turns behind. He is suddenly gone, and Eurydice is left alone. We do not follow Orpheus back to the world of the living to watch him pine away.
To conclude, Anaïs Mitchell’s Hadestown uses the myth of Orpheus in some very innovative and unique ways. By de-emphasizing its importance to the creation of the Mysteries and the presence of Orpheus, it gives Eurydice a voice and endeavors to discuss the context of death and separation from her perspective. This more worldly tone is consistent with the emphasis on poverty and wealth discussed previously, along with the ways Mitchell characterizes the Gods and mortals who enter into the rock opera’s action.
Do I recommend listening to Hadestown? Definitely yes. And — if you can — I also recommend seeing it performed (which I have not). It is a very refreshing look at the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice and will not disappoint most people.
Places to Buy
Amazon.com
eMusic (subscription download site)
iTunes
One of the most complex rock operas of the decade is Hadestown, conceptualized by musician Anaïs Mitchell and performed as a collaborative work with many artists and musicians. The rock opera has an apocalyptic, post-industrial Great Depression feel. In the words of Anaïs Mitchell, the work is meant to be a question about the limits of human compassion and cruelty:
Take global warming to its terrifying logical conclusion and imagine part of the world becomes uninhabitable and there are masses of hungry poor people looking for higher ground. [T]hen imagine you are lucky enough to live in relative wealth and security, though maybe you’ve sacrificed some freedoms to live that way. When the hordes are at the door, who among us would not be behind a big fence? These conditions exist already, but most of us don’t have to acknowledge them in a real way. (Themes of Hadestown, “History”)
The rock opera Hadestown uses the realm of Hades and its denizens in several ways. Firstly, it uses the landscape to highlight disparities of wealth and power among communities. Secondly, the connections it makes between characters — Hades and Persephone, Orpheus and Eurydice, and the restless dead — emphasize these connections and provide raw human emotions to fuel the changes that happen in the story. Finally, the mythological landscape utilizes the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice in very unique ways, and we will explore all of these things here. This is the second of three posts. You can read the first one here.
Character and Hadestown
The landscape of Hadestown depicts the differences between haves and have-nots in a very extreme way, separating everyone via a long wall called the River Styx. Furthermore, the world has been turned on its head: death has metamorphosed from an unavoidable downside to human mortality into an idealized state — so much so that Eurydice would prefer to go down into death than stay cold and hungry with Orpheus. The figure of Hades has turned into the figure of Plouton, who is a withholder of wealth, a boss more concerned with security than with providing a good afterlife experience for his subjects. Persephone has turned from an innocent young woman thrust into a marriage she hadn’t anticipated into a rules-dodging speakeasy owner. The most interesting aspects of these characterizations of the Gods are how they intersect with the mythological roots of each.
“Mister Hades is a Mighty King”
Hades is the driving force of Hadestown‘s action. He is expressed in two primary ways in the action: as a manipulative king, and as the God of Wealth (Ploutôn). In the folk opera, all of these relate to his major character goal: keeping the Underworld in a state of peace to prevent the dead from rioting or giving him too much trouble. His love for Persephone — at least, until Orpheus makes the Underworld shake with the power of his song — takes a back seat to the more important issues of ownership and management expressed through his character.
As the ruler of the Underground and as the God of Wealth, Hades’s primary concern is the expansion of the Underworld and the consolidation of wealth (in other words, he has become the God of Withholding Wealth). The conditions of the world above and its jealousy of the wealth held by Hades have given him the perfect opportunity to unite the various denizens of his kingdom by sowing a spirit of fear towards the living. In “Why We Build the Wall,” a song set during the indoctrination of new workers, Hades characterizes the living as carriers of poverty (the “enemy”) and a threat to the freedom found in Hades. The rhetoric he uses echoes many sound bytes spoken by people against immigration and assistance for the poor — especially his threat that they will steal work from the dead. The common endeavor keeps the workers from questioning.
The Lord of Shades expresses his manipulativeness in other ways. In “Hey, Little Songbird,” Hades sees Eurydice and seduces her with the promise of wealth and purpose in the Underworld. “Hey, nobody sings on empty,” he says about money, and he’s willing to give her a role in Hadestown:
Hey, little songbird, you got something fine
You’d shine like a diamond down in the mine
And the choice is yours if you’re willing to choose
Seeing as you’ve got nothing to lose
And I could use a canary
This is a mirror of the seduction of Persephone, and it shows that Hades has a type: innocent figures who can bring him beauty and a connection with the world of the living. Persephone is beautiful, but Eurydice has a voice — and it is that voice he wants. And, of course, he is unwilling to give her back to Orpheus to upset the laws of nature.*
Our Lady of the Underground
Persephone has one of the most beautiful songs on the album, “Our Lady of the Underground.” This song in particular reminds me of the Mysteries of Demeter and Persephone. In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, we learn that “[h]appy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries; but he who is uninitiate and who has no part in them, never has lot of like good things once he is dead, down in the darkness and gloom.” While Persephone is primarily an underworld deity, she cares about the fate of human beings and acts as our voice in a world that is otherwise separated from the one we know.
In Hadestown, Persephone is unique because she can go between the world of the dead and the world of the living as she pleases. The gifts she bestows to the dead are expressed “Our Lady of the Underground” through the creation of a speakeasy for people who crave “a little something from the good old days.” She offers the wind in a jar, the rain, sunshine, autumn leaves, and spring flowers (among other things) — all for a price. The interest shown in her bootlegged goods from the world of the living shows that a market exists in the Underworld for everything the dead have given up. Hades has obviously not succeeded completely at brainwashing the newly dead into believing the world of the living is evil; they desire what the living have and are willing to pay steep prices for it. This sets the stage for the shades’ riot after Orpheus is awarded Eurydice.
She shows a consistent advocacy for the living in her songs. In “How Long?” she pleads with Hades to pity Orpheus for his love of Eurydice. Orpheus’s sorrow “won’t fit in his chest / It just burns like a fire in the pit of his chest / And his heart is a bird on a spit in his chest.” Hades retorts that he will not bend his own rules; relenting could plunge the world into chaos. While rational, it reveals the hardness of his heart and the importance of Persephone in bending his will. Finally, he says:
You and your pity don’t fit in my bed
You just burn like a fire in the pit of my bed
And I turn like a bird on a spit in my bed
How long, how long, how long?
The repetition of what Persephone said shows something striking. Hades relates his wife Persephone to Orpheus’s burning sorrow and himself to Orpheus’s heart. Her presence cracks his cold exterior and makes him feel almost alive again — “only a man/ With the taste of nectar upon his lips.” But Persephone’s victory cannot stop the inevitable.
A Brief Word on Hermes
Hermes also appears in the opera — as a hobo loitering near the train station to Hades. He and Orpheus have similar ideas about Hades (that the realm of the dead and its ruler are not as good as people make them out to be), and he gives Orpheus directions to the Underworld. This is a very conventional portrayal of Hermes, and it fits quite strongly with his spheres of influence (travel and guiding the dead). While I love his songs, thinking about him in the play’s context does not provide any new and meaningful interpretations.
Conclusion: The Cast is in Place
The characterization of various deities in Hadestown — primarily Hades and Persephone — provide the backbone of the action in the rock opera. Their actions and outlooks on life influence the actions of Orpheus, Eurydice, and all of the nameless dead in the play. The next (and final) discussion of Hadestown will bring all of this together through an examination of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, relying primarily on a comparison with Ovid’s Metamorphoses and relevant texts in the Perseus Digital Library.
Places to Buy
Amazon.com
eMusic (subscription download site)
iTunes
I really should have reviewed the book by Rick Riordan first, but I don’t have a copy that is easily accessible, and don’t feel comfortable reviewing a book that is not fresh in my mind.
Percy Jackson is the epitome of misfit–he has a crazy family life, he’s highly accident-prone, a below-average student, and is totally misunderstood by everyone except his Grover, his sole friend. On a class trip to a museum, he is attacked by a Fury, and much becomes revealed–like the fact that he is a Demi-God and Grover is a satyr.
But this is a review of the movie, not a synopsis of the story. I have finally had the chance to watch, and am doing something of a live-blog as I watch. The first thing I noticed was that this is one of those movies that is WAY too quiet until the action/battle scenes, which are WAY too loud. There was almost no explanation or time spent at Camp Half-Blood, which is a major location in the books and is where a lot of the Greek mythology is taught to Percy. Another criticism is that Percy found out that Poseidon is his father way too early and easily. This would not have been a difficult thing to incorporate into the movie. When Hades appears in the camp, he is the epitome of the Christian devil–horns, wings and flames. Then, when the kids are planning to travel to the Underworld, they talk about how Hades kidnapped Persephone & keeps Her prisoner. Rick Riordan was truer to the mythology in the books.
I do like the CG effects. The god-sized Poseidon changing into human form by means of water blowing away into the wind seems appropriate, as did the actors chosen for both Poseidon & Zeus.The ferryride into Hades had AMAZING effects, with all of the lost dreams of humanity sinking beneath Charon’s boat; the Styx wasn’t so much water as a vast chasm.
Now that the kids are on their Quest, the movie is playing up a budding relationship between Percy & Annabeth that did not exactly exist in the books. But I think the actors were appropriately cast and written; not perfect, but still well done. I also like the casting for “The Big 3.” They look similar enough to be believable as brothers, but Hades (when He doesn’t look like the Christian Devil) at least is what I’d picture Him to look like in the modern era.
Also, where it Chronus? Luke stole the lightning bolt at Chronus’ bidding. Totally changing the plot of a book irks me to no end. Not to mention the fact that, due to this plot change, the ending also had to be changed and it was an almost deus ex machina touchy-feely situation.
Overall, I enjoyed the movie for what it was, but because I know how it was SUPPOSED to be made, I was disappointed.
I’m totally prepared for other people to give me shit for my tastes in film on this site — I’ve put up with plenty enough about it on the Hellenistai forum already, so it’s not going to surprise me to see any here, so I’m going to get the hard part over with already:
I really love Xanadu
There, I’ve said it.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think this is brill lyric film on the level of Derek Jarman, nor do I even consider it a perfect musical, like 1982′s film version of Annie (which there is absolutely nothing wrong with) or 1974′s Rocky Horror Picture Show (which is fucking perfect, and you are not going to argue with me about this); what Xanadu is an enjoyable modern myth with a very simple plot (which is all most ancient mythology ever had, if you’ve being perfectly honest), adequate music of a disco-prog sort of idiom, and roller-choreography that everybody’s favourite inescapable troll-like theatre producer, Andrew Lloyd Weber, only wishes he could have mastered with Starlight Express.
The Nostalgia Chick has criticised the unique Universal Studios animation sequence at the beginning of the film, and while I admit that I can’t even make up some intellectual wank to explain it, if you’ve seen it, you have to agree that it’s a pretty neat little piece of stop-motion, and some of the most flawless I’ve ever seen. When the actual opening happens, we get a shot of Gene Kelly, now in his sixties, sitting on a rock on a beach playing a clarinet — I swear the imagery here is referencing some painting I’ve seen before, but damned if I can remember the titles or painter. He’s playing some sad music, and then it cuts to a character we soon learn is Sonny, who’s apparently an artist. He’s working on some pieces, then finally tears one up and tosses the scraps out his window, lamenting that people like him aren’t allowed to dream. The paper glides along on some breezes and passes by a mural of the Nine Classic Muses, who spring to life and pop out of the mural in a dance number to the music of Electric Light Orchestra and with the addition of some Tron-like animation.
I really love the costuming in this dance sequence; it’s obvious to me that the costuming department was really trying to make it apparent that they were giving an updated look to the idea of ancient Greek clothes with this.
So, yeah, Olivia Newton-John’s character is then seen skating off, bumping into Sonny, planting a kiss on him, and then shaking off, leaving him to wonder if she was real or imagined.
Sonny then arrives at his place of employment, an art studio for a AirFlo Records where his job (in the dark ages prior to digital blow-ups) is to paint blown-up versions of album covers for the street displays at a Los Angeles record store (which, as of 2003, I know from seeing it myself, still utilises this form of advertisement). Sonny has an argument with his boss about artistic integrity, and is then handed an album by a fictional band called The Nine Sisters that features the strange girl who kissed him on the cover. Hew soon takes a long lunch to try and track her down, and in this endeavour, meets Kelly’s character, Danny McGuire. As Sonny and Danny are talking, the strange girl skates by, and Sonny, through a series of typical only-in-the-movies hijinks, ends up skating off a short pier and is then seen having coffee with Danny as he dries off.
Later, Sonny gets a ride from a friend and, apparently abandoning his former plans, impulsively has his friend let him off at the GORGEOUS art deco theatre that was on the cover of the Nine Sisters record. He lets himself inside, as the theatre has been abandoned, and discovers the girl inside and skating around. He tries to talk to her as she fades in and out of sight and flaunts the fact that she knows his name without him offering it to her. Before they part, he asks her name and she gives it as “Kira” before fading out again.
In the next scene, he’s wrapping up a delivery of paintings to the store just as Danny is leaving the store, and the two start talking and head back to Danny’s place where Sonny notices a photo of Kira with Danny’s things and listens to Danny’s story about losing the love of his life and letting his dreams die. Sonny and Danny, through the course of conversation agree to open up a club together, figuring it would be good for the two of them to do something that they both believe in rather than merely killing their time with Danny’s idleness and Sonny’s uninspiring work painting other people’s ideas. The scene ends with Danny left alone with his memories of being a clarinet player in a Big Band and his fleeting romance with the group’s girl singer.
The next scene is Sonny in his work studio, working on the Nine Sisters album painting, and “Kira” suddenly appears. Startled, but apparently unsuspicious, he tells her about his plans with Danny, and she suggests using the old theatre for the club. He scoffs, cos it’s been abandoned for years needs some serious work, but she nudges gently before they leave to get something to eat and then engage in a roller-disco sequence in a recording studio.
Actually, my only complaint about this film is the recording studio; this is the most unrealistic recording studio I’ve ever seen depicted in a film, but I don’t complain too much because really, the roller-choreography is pretty impressive. I’m also working with an assumption that the really gratuitous bits like this are actually “G-rated fucking”. Think about it: Two crazy kids out for a few hours, looking for some place “intimate” to be alone, it ends interrupted by Sonny’s employer, who accidentally sets off a button to make recorded and light-projected “fireworks” as the two leads skate off in a giggling scramble. They were doing it — TOTALLY doing it.
In the next scene, Sonny takes Danny to the theatre, and then there’s a less-gratuitous (and therefore less likely to be symbolic of Teh Smex) song-and-dance number featuring The [motherfucking] Tubes as Sonny and Danny imagine what they could do with the place; the business partnership is cemented, and Sonny goes back out to his car to get a torch and then “Kira” suddenly appears to recite a portion of the poem “Kubla Khan” to Danny, suggesting they name the club XANADU, which Sonny agrees to. Danny also makes vague comments on recognising “Kira”, who responds more vaguely, so he drops it and you’re left wondering if he’s figured out “Kira’s” true nature.
Next scene, Danny shares a bottle of champagne with “Kira” in celebration, and obviously wants to make their romance more intimate, but she’s evasive:
“But where do you live?”
“With my sisters.”
“And where’s that?”
“An apartment.”
“Where is this apartment?”
“On the second floor.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Same as my mother’s and father’s.”
Then kiss, and then there’s a gratuitous Don Bluth animation sequence, cos Don Bluth is awesome and, as my theory goes, they wanted to slip in more G-rated fucking (well, OK, PG for panty-lines and use of the words “hell” and “wise-ass”).
After this, Danny is passing out wine to the construction workers at the renovation, and then Sonny and “Kira” take him on a shopping montage, which is seemingly a bit gratuitous, but I really hope it’s not symbolic of fucking.
Shortly after this scene, Sonny and Kira walk back to his place, where she tells him she’s actually a Muse:
I come from Mount Helikon. I’m the daughter of Zeus. I have eight sisters. My real name is Terpsikore.
To prove to Sonny she’s not making this up, she alters a dictionary entry and the dialogue of a film on the television; she’s telling him all of this because while her work is done and she has to leave him, she’s fallen for him and apparently feels she owes him some honesty before leaving.
Next scene is Sonny brooding on the same rock we first saw Danny on, and Danny finds him there and figures he’s depressed about “Kira”/Terpsikore leaving; and this is where it becomes apparent that Danny’s had this figured out since the earlier scene, and he tells Sonny that “if she came here, then there’s a way to go there” and “dreams don’t just die, we kill them.”
Sonny eventually figures out how to break into the Divine realm, which I’ve always really loved: The depiction is abstract and minimal with a lot of neon Tron-imation, but you know, for me, that works. Sonny gets condescended to by Zeus while the female Divine voice, we’ll call Her Mnemosyne, cos that’s what works mythologically, argues with Zeus and reminds him that the mortal realm is very different before Sonny is sent back. Terpsikore then sings a sad song, which moves the gods to give her another night with Sonny.
Then the MASSIVE million-dollar-plus budgeted roller-choreography scene. No, really, this is fucking stellar. It’s long and it basically sums up the 1970s in music with ON-J’s song medley number, but it’s well-paced enough to forget how long it is when we finally see Sonny, back to sulking after the Muses have flittered away, and Danny calls over a cocktail waitress to get his friend a drink — a character also played by ON-J, but who apparently has no recollection of Sonny, so he decides to talk to her, and then the credits roll.
In all, it’s a very simple story, and the “message” seems to be “Don’t kill your dreams with despiar.” I love that this is apparently a story meant for young adults that portrays the Gods as an active part of this world, even if we don’t necessarily recognise them as such. It’s also a cute story without falling into the infantilising traps that Disney’s Hercules fell into, and without, in the end, rendering the Gods powerless, as the final season of Xena: Warrior Princess did — on no, these are gods that will give you a shove in the right direction, but won’t think twice about telling you that you’re asking for too much of them, and will ultimately see that maybe your dreams are worthless if you’re lonely; the Gods as portrayed in Xanadu are not only timeless and powerful, but obviously caring of those they see worth in.
Like I said, don’t expect a great epic of deep themes, but do expect to find things to like about it as a polytheist. It’s a perfectly adequate modern myth, in my opinion.
I haven’t seen the stage production based on this one yet, but what I’ve been able to pick up on from the Internet, well… to start, “Kira” is actually Klio, the Muse of History, and Her sisters are all evil and stuff, and there’s a Pegasus on the website, and I’m kind of horrified, to start. It also lacks The Tubes — whose appearance in the film may not be one of the high points, but it definitely speaks to the stageplay’s lacking cred that they’ll tour this while letting The Tubes play county fairs and at small Midwestern clubs for a smaller guarantee than Gallagher — but that’s another story for another time. As much as I love the theatre, just looking at how the playwrights altered the relevant mythology and the story established in the film, I can’t advocate it before the film; the film is respectful of the mythology where the play clearly is not, and the film shoots for a simple story where the play complicates things in what’s seemingly nothing more than an attempt to out-camp the film.
The above is the information about the paperback version
. There are hardcover and audio versions as well.
Beye, professor emeritus of Classics at the City University of New York, has created a fictional biography of one of the most famous of Greek Heroes, Odysseus. He uses psychology, archeology, anthropology and the classical texts to provide the reader with an in-depth analysis and understanding of Odysseus’ early life as Prince of Ithaca, as a war-hero at Troy, and as a wandering castaway longing for his kingdom, wife and the life he once knew–if any of those things even existed anymore.
Although it is over 200 pages, there are only 5 chapters: “Prince,” Warrior,” “Wanderer,” “Lover,” King.” As one would imagine, these chapters follow the chronology of the myths we are already familiar with, delving deeper into his thoughts and feelings about the people and places that he was encountering. I found the book extremely interesting and wish I had read the first chapter less sporadically as this was a very foundational chapter, giving the reader a view of who he was as a person based off of what a prince in ancient Greece would have been. The following chapters built upon this foundation to turn Odysseus into a living, breathing person.
Beye wove a believable and insightful tale–I got lost in the story despite it being written as a biography, and came to know and love the characters. Knowing that is was written by a Classicist and based on research about Ancient Greece made it even more compelling as a true account rather than fictional history. I highly recommend this book to people who want to go a little deeper into the world and people of the Illiad and Odyssey.
One of the most complex rock operas of the decade is Hadestown, conceptualized by musician Anaïs Mitchell and performed as a collaborative work with many artists and musicians. The rock opera has an apocalyptic, post-industrial Great Depression feel. In the words of Anaïs Mitchell, the work is meant to be a question about the limits of human compassion and cruelty:
Take global warming to its terrifying logical conclusion and imagine part of the world becomes uninhabitable and there are masses of hungry poor people looking for higher ground. [T]hen imagine you are lucky enough to live in relative wealth and security, though maybe you’ve sacrificed some freedoms to live that way. When the hordes are at the door, who among us would not be behind a big fence? These conditions exist already, but most of us don’t have to acknowledge them in a real way. (Themes of Hadestown, “History”)
The rock opera Hadestown uses the realm of Hades and its denizens in several ways. Firstly, it uses the landscape to highlight disparities of wealth and power among communities. Secondly, the connections it makes between characters — Hades and Persephone, Orpheus and Eurydice, and the restless dead — emphasize these connections and provide raw human emotions to fuel the changes that happen in the story. Finally, the mythological landscape utilizes the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice in very unique ways, and we will explore all of these things here. Each of these points will be broken into a specific post for readability.
The Landscape of Hadestown
Before we discuss the landscape and its communicators, it’s important to know which songs I’m using as reference points and from where I am pulling supplemental information. While the overall themes of landscape and personality are communicated across the album, this analysis relies primarily on “Epic: Part One,” “Way Down Hadestown,” and “Wait For Me.” Any epithets used are sourced from Theoi.com.
The economic landscape of Hadestown has influenced the album’s musical choices. The music reminds me of the Swing Era and has a strong jazz and bluegrass feel. The album invokes a strong Great Depression feel and its presentation reminds me of Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath because of the relentless search for work in a hostile environment. In any society with resource scarcity, from Africa’s water wars to Arizona’s xenophobia, the walls people build around their communities and the depths they sink to are reflective of their real fear of loss of property and resources.
In Hadestown, this division comes in the form of a wall. The River Styx symbolizes the sequestration of the Underworld from the world of the living. Unlike other mythological interpretations, in which the River Styx typically contains water, this river is a long wall reminiscent of the ones the Chinese and Romans built to keep themselves safe from the barbarians on the other side. Not only does this wall exist, but its creators continuously improve on it with a “million hands” and “a million minds that were just one mind” — a symbol of indoctrination, but also of work. Hades is the only place where people can get a steady job.
Working Forever
One of the most important ideas concerning the Greek Underworld is its permanence. People go down into death, but they can never come back up. In the Odyssey, even Herakles leaves a shade; the Dioskouroi use timesharing. In Hadestown, the Underworld is equally permanent. People who go down to Hadestown just don’t come back, and the only access comes in the form of a one-way train — so even when you get work, you can never stop.
To most people in a post-industrial Great Depression, working at all must sound like paradise. Eurydice provides an excellent example of this mentality. Instead of the idea of a heaven with gold-paved roads, she imagines the Underworld as a paradise where
Everybody dresses in clothes so fine
Everybody’s pockets are weighted down
Everybody sipping ambrosia wine
In a goldmine in Hadestown
Way down Hadestown
Way down under the ground
While this plays on our funeral preparations for the dead (their best clothes), it provides a very troublesome view of the economic turbulence of the living world. If people can only find work in Hadestown, and the presence of work has replaced traditional views of paradise, no wonder the Lord of the Undergloom has decided to barricade himself from the world above. Orpheus and Hermes’s section of “Way Down Hadestown” is the only section that presents a critical view:
ORPHEUS & HERMES
Mister Hades is a mean old boss
With a silver whistle and a golden scale
An eye for an eye!
And he weighs the cost
A lie for a lie!
And your soul for sale
Sold!
To the king on the chromium throne
Thrown!
To the bottom of a sing-sing cell
Where the little wheel squeal and the big wheel groan
And you better forget about your wishing well
Way down Hadestown
Way down under the ground
The phrase “sing-sing cell” probably refers to the Sing Sing Prison, an American prison known for its poor living conditions until a progressive director took control in the 20th century. According to an article by Mark Gado, the name was an Americanization of “stone on stone” in a Native American language. If correct, this indicates that Orpheus thinks quite poorly of Hadestown.
Conclusion: Setting the Stage
The landscape of Hadestown sets the stage for a drama about the limits of human cruelty and compassion. The landscape of poverty and the division between haves and have-nots is elaborated quite early in the rock opera, complete with musical styles and imagery that evokes images of the Great Depression. For my next post, I will discuss how the interpretation of the speaking characters builds on this physical landscape of Hades.
Places to Buy
Amazon.com
eMusic (subscription download site)
iTunes
Image credit: A cell in Sing Sing prison. Date Unknown. Library of Congress online catalog collection.
Lulu Press, 
Inc; 1st edition (June, 2007)
ISBN-10: 1430324562
ISBN-13: 978-1430324560
Paperback; 216 pages
Only three months passed between publishing his first book and this one. The short time makes one wonder about his reasoning–was this done to flood the market with his name? to avoid overwhelming readers with too much information in a single book? to make more money? the list can go on. Personally, I think it’s a combination of several of these. A Beginner’s Guide has two of the same flaws that I noted with Hellenismos Today, namely that too much of the book is re-printed source material rather than genuine content, and that there are FAR too many typos that should have been caught by word-processing software, let alone thorough editing that should be commonplace when one wants to publish.
As with his first book, over half the book is re-printed source material, including Sallustius’ “On the Gods and the Cosmos,” Julian’s “Oration to the Mother of the Gods,” some of the Homeric Hymns, a list of Epithets of the Gods and a Greek Glossary. As you can see, all of these are available online, but I do appreciate having them in printed book format.
The first chapter is an introduction to Hellenismos, essentially summarizing his first book for readers that may not have read it. It provides a foundation for the rest of the book.
Chapter 2 is titled “Theology” and describes such topics as Orthopraxy, Cosmology, the Gods and mythos, the Soul, Death & the Afterlife and Evil. The orthopraxy section is very thorough, explaining that the root of Hellenismos is how one practices rather than adhering to specific teachings or writings. Syncretism, which “attempts to meld practices and theories harmoniously so that the final product can still be identifiably part of the religion” is brought up, but there is no further discussion about how it’s done or what would be considered an example of acceptable syncretism. I am also pleased with the section about the Gods, other divinities and myths; it was completely appropriate for an introductory book. Unfortunately, the remaining sections focused pretty solely on Neoplatonic theories, something I personally adhere to, but this omission leaves out practitioners that may follow a different (or no) philosophy. He tries to get around this by using the modifiers “many ” or “most,” but I think it was a cop-out to avoid discussing theories that did not fit with his own–he should have owned that these were his philosophical views, but that other Hellenic Recons follow other philosophies.
In Chapter 3, the “Three Dimensions of Worship,” Public, Private and Cult practices are discussed. This is a very good break-down of the differences between the major types of ancient worship, and provides the reader with brief descriptions of each and how one can incorporate them. I was particularly pleased that he explained that the various city-states had varying theologies, myths and practices, and provided some more information about how to apply syncretism without compromising the religion (link goes to the article “Syncretism and Eclecticism in Hellenismos” by Sannion via the WayBack Machine–this is referenced as a footnote on page 33). I also found it nice that he stressed the importance of household worship–the public festival calendars are so prominent that one can get wrapped up in trying to work out how to do these large-scale rituals as a solo practitioner.
I’m not sure he needed a separate chapter on prayers and hymns, the five pages could have been included with the Personal & Family section of the previous chapter. It includes examples of both formal and informal prayer, and encourages the reader to write their own prayers if they are so inclined.
The next chapter discusses offerings and sacrifices, both of which are at the very heart of Hellenic worship, and make up the majority of all ritual practice. He describes several types of sacrifices and offerings, both of which can be confusing to the new practitioner and are topics brought up very often when someone new joins a list or forum.
Rites and Rituals is a separate chapter, which again feels like it could have been combined with one of the two previous chapters to make one or two meatier chapters rather than small, disjointed descriptions; these are all topics that to me just go hand-in-hand and should be done together. Rites of passage are very briefly touched upon, but the sections on personal devotions and rites of worship, while also brief, were very concise and explanatory, especially for the new practitioner.
Chapter 7 is about the Festival Calendar in which the Athenian months and festival dates are listed and the calendar structure is described, as well as the monthly feast dates as listed in Hesiod. He reminds the reader that “local innovation and adaptation is part of Hellenismos” on the chance that an ancient festival needs to be moved (MY NOTE: it’s difficult to have a harvest festival when everything around you is just blooming) or omitted, or if you you want to honor the local land spirits or create a festival that is appropriate to your locale (MY NOTE: like celebrating the MA & ME-only Patriot’s Day Holiday in a Hellenic manner).
The chapter on Mysticism is understandably controversial, but I feel he again (as in his previous book) did an excellent job explaining the differences between magick, which is hubristic within Hellenismos, and the acceptable practices of divination & mysticism, which are often lumped under a general umbrella with magick and other related practices.
Other than an Afterword, he finishes up the book with 3 short pages about Temples, Shrines, Statues & Images, which I thought was great, although I did wish for a little bit more.
Again, I really wish this book and his previous one had been published together–it would have been more comprehensive and I would have felt more like I got my money’s worth because each was more than 50% source material that is free online. But is is a very useful source of information for the new and seasoned practitioner alike.
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