Graduate 58: Embracing Gravity, Part 1 of 2
Embracing Gravity: A Critical Engagement with the Musical, Wicked. Part One.
I am so, so very thankful to those friends of mine who challenge me to think clearly, carefully, and critically about my ideas and beliefs.
Last week I saw the musical Wicked at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood. Steve, Jessie, Alex, and I went to try to get tickets that were being raffled off two hours before show-time. Steve's name was the first one called, for two tickets! Since he and Jessie had already seen the show, they, very generously, gave the tickets to Alex and me.
I'm still not completely sure what I think about my experience that evening. On the one hand, the show was spectacularly produced. The story was extremely well-written, particularly in the second act, where there were so many revelatory moments that cleverly and surprisingly integrated the novel world of Wicked with the already-established world of Oz. The sets were amazing. I especially appreciate it when a show is well-staged and beautifully rendered. The show was well-acted, hilarious at points, brilliantly engaging; there was so much to recommend it.
And yet I found, on the other hand, messages and themes that I really could not embrace. In fact, as the story unfolded, layer-by-layer, a picture of the world emerged that was so thoroughly antithetical to what I believe and value and cherish that, at times, I almost couldn't sit still.
When I first began drafting this blog, I came on very strong (perhaps even condemnatory). The tone has been, I think, decidedly softened since I discussed my views with a close friend and revised this entry. So there are two parts to the following material. In the second part, I will present my take of the central themes and worldview presented in Wicked. But in the first part, I will attempt to lay a (preliminary) foundation for that discussion by addressing the appropriateness and validity of assessing, such things as worldview themes, in drama and literature.
WARNING: THERE ARE PLOT-SPOILERS IN THE MATERIAL TO FOLLOW. If you have not already seen the show and do not want to know what happens before seeing it onstage, in all its brilliant glory, then do not read on. (In many instances, I will just assume that the reader already knows what I'm talking about with reference to the musical.)
--
So when I first presented my concerns about objectionable themes in Wicked to my friend, he surprised me with his response. Instead of challenging my interpretation with his own alternative theory, he basically challenged the propriety of my drawing any interpretation at all. This caught me off guard because I have learned to take it for granted, as an operating assumption, that narrative drama and literature convey messages and meanings--not always necessarily as an explicit or overt intention of the author, but because stories, in their shape and character, reflect a particular view of the world and life.
Along these lines, my friend challenged me on two points. Firstly, he asked whether I could really know what were the mind and intention of the author when he wrote the play. Secondly, he doubted, even if the existence of such messages and themes could be established, that they would impact the audience in any significant way.
Anyone familiar with the vast and complicated realm of literary criticism will likely recognize these questions. The quantity of literature on them, alone, is enormous. According to one of my English professors, there are four major areas on which critics focus when dealing with the meaning and interpretation of a text: (1) author's intent, (2) the text itself, (3) the social/historical context of the work, and (4) the mind of the reader or audience. Different interpretive theories emphasize each of these aspects to different degrees.
In considering the first objection, I am actually not so much interested in the author's intent, because I believe that an author might reveal much about the world (or his/her view of the world) without intending to do so. So when I say that a play or novel conveys a certain message or set of themes, I am not necessarily saying that is his explicit intention, as if he sat down to write his play and began by asking himself, "How can I convey message X to the audience."
Here is an illustration of this point. (I'll expand on it further when I actually address my interpretation of the musical's themes in the second half of this blog.) Several characteristics (in the dialogue and action) of the conflict between the animals and the Ozians reminded me of certain portrayals of the contemporary debate over gay marriage and GLBT rights, where the opposing sides are represented as the oppressed minority and the oppressive majority. My friend was a bit skeptical when I first suggested this. Another friend actually pointed out to me (this is heresay) that the play was composed during the beginning of the Iraq war when many people were concerned about racial profiling. Now one may ask, did the author intend either one of these interpretations? Perhaps not. Perhaps he intended both. Perhaps he intended something else. But notice that whichever way you interpret it, there is still an underlying "arch-theme," the juxtaposition of the oppressed minority and the oppressive majority and that is what interests me. It may not have been in the conscious mind of the author, but that is not necessary for it to be, in a meaningfully, objective way, in the play.
[I won't delve into my own complete view of interpretation and meaning in text/drama because I don't have one. But I will say this as a kind of preliminary consideration. I believe that meaning, ultimately, is created by God. It thus exists as an objective feature of the universe. Our actions and conversations and day-to-day lives are full of significance and meaning, though we may not recognize that fact. What we, in turn, create is also full of meaning--sometimes because we intend it, sometimes because its just there as a feature of every existing thing. If we are watchful, we can pick up on both kinds. So, for instance, I see the protagonist, Elphaba, as going on a very distinctive journey, from basic essentialism, to existentialism, culminating in nihilism. Was that the overt intention of the author? Perhaps. Or maybe he just described the human experience as he saw it. He need not have understood it to reproduce it powerfully on stage. But the meaning was and is there, nonetheless.]
So basically, in answer to the first objection, I do not think that the author's intention need be directly considered when evaluating the messages, themes, and worldview of a play. "But," one may then ask, "if the author can convey meaning without intending it, can he really be held responsible for objectionable meanings." In other words, if I have a problem with the messages in Wicked, is it really appropriate for me to "blame" the author for a message that he did not intend to communicate?
The (perhaps) surprising answer is, "Yes." Now, by that, I do not mean that anyone should be tarred or feathered. Neither do I wish to defame anyone. But the messages that an author (indirectly) conveys are a product of the way in which he or she sees the world. Now there are a variety of factors that shape how an individual sees the world. Some of these factors are outside of our control, but many of them are under our direct and indirect control. Thus, people are responsible for seeing the world in the truest light, as it really is. That might require more clarification, but I'll leave that for another time.
Now, turning to the second objection, you may already have gotten the sense that a great deal of thought has gone into my critique and analysis of the themes and worldview of Wicked. Not everybody is interested in analyzing musicals (or movies or books) to that level of detail. Is it really feasible that any messages, even if present, would interest or affect audience-members?
The difference between my and my friend's answer to this question is highly noteworthy. In our conversation, he asserted that an unrecognized message would not affect the audience. I disagreed and suggested, instead, that an unrecognized message, would affect the audience; granted, it would not effect them on the conscious level of intellectual engagement, but it would affect them at an unconscious, emotive, or affective level.
[At this point, it may be helpful (or just more confusing) to turn to a peripheral objection that we had to deal with related to this material. I already pointed to the one exemplary "arch-theme" that frames disagreement in terms of the oppressed minority and oppressive majority. This theme concerns me because real life (including the debate over gay-marriage) is more complicated and requires more nuanced categories than this basic juxtaposition admits. But, my friend, pointed out, stories, if they do convey messages, are not intended to capture all the complicatedness of life. When Cinderella triumphs over the schemes of her wicked step-mother and step-sisters, that victory is not intended to reflect all relevant aspects of real-life familial relationships. It captures only one truth about the world--possibly, the ultimate triumph of good over evil, which is why fairy tales take it for granted that "they lived happily ever after."
[Part of treating stories properly is realizing that they only capture a slice of reality. It is the responsibility of the viewer to fit all the pieces together and insert each newly-introduced piece into the larger framework and nexus of his or her worldview. So, there may be nothing wrong, per se, with a play that presents an oppressed minority/oppressive majority juxtaposition, (I'll consider that more in part two) but, instead, a great deal hinges on the engagement of the viewer. Here we will return to consider the ways in which the messages in stories may affect viewers who do not actively engage the material being presented to them, who do not intentionally analyze the meanings and consciously integrate them into their larger worldview.]
So if a person sees lots of plays and movies (and reads lots of books) in which the characters are inserted into one of these two basic categories--oppressed minority or objective majority--over time, they will begin to view their own experiences in this way. (Here I am simply accepting the premise that people are, rather than "are not," affected by the messages conveyed in drama, even if unconsciously.) They will begin to frame conflict, in their own lives, in terms of these minorities and majorities. And if the good side is good just because it is the oppressed minority, then the ability of people who hold this view to critically and rationally engage their world and the experiences presented to them will be severely reduced.
This is part of the power of drama as a medium for communication. Drama mimics real-life experience. When we experience pleasure or pain in life, we tend to generate associations to what is good and bad. It's hard enough to wade through the flood of sensorial and emotional experiences to discern real truth (e.g. vegetables are good for you even if they taste bad). Drama also generates vicarious experiences of pleasure and pain, but in much more concentrated and compelling ways (e.g. an hour-long television show may cover an entire year in the life of a character). If it is difficult to discern truth in life, it is at least as complicated to discern it in drama. And if our lives are shaped by what we experience in life, then they are certainly also shaped by our experiences in the theatrical arts.
--
I have tried to explain some of the ways in which I understand meaning to be related to works of drama (on stage, in films or television, and in books). Having laid that foundation, I will go on in Part Two to describe the themes and messages that I saw in the musical, Wicked.
But it is my hope that the reader, whenever he or she views a drama or reads a book, will be attentive and consider what messages are being communicated through the action and dialogue, will take seriously the effect those can have on the individual, and will be intentionally about fitting them in to his or her overall worldview.
Until next time,
God bless,
--
God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.
I am so, so very thankful to those friends of mine who challenge me to think clearly, carefully, and critically about my ideas and beliefs.
Last week I saw the musical Wicked at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood. Steve, Jessie, Alex, and I went to try to get tickets that were being raffled off two hours before show-time. Steve's name was the first one called, for two tickets! Since he and Jessie had already seen the show, they, very generously, gave the tickets to Alex and me.
I'm still not completely sure what I think about my experience that evening. On the one hand, the show was spectacularly produced. The story was extremely well-written, particularly in the second act, where there were so many revelatory moments that cleverly and surprisingly integrated the novel world of Wicked with the already-established world of Oz. The sets were amazing. I especially appreciate it when a show is well-staged and beautifully rendered. The show was well-acted, hilarious at points, brilliantly engaging; there was so much to recommend it.
And yet I found, on the other hand, messages and themes that I really could not embrace. In fact, as the story unfolded, layer-by-layer, a picture of the world emerged that was so thoroughly antithetical to what I believe and value and cherish that, at times, I almost couldn't sit still.
When I first began drafting this blog, I came on very strong (perhaps even condemnatory). The tone has been, I think, decidedly softened since I discussed my views with a close friend and revised this entry. So there are two parts to the following material. In the second part, I will present my take of the central themes and worldview presented in Wicked. But in the first part, I will attempt to lay a (preliminary) foundation for that discussion by addressing the appropriateness and validity of assessing, such things as worldview themes, in drama and literature.
WARNING: THERE ARE PLOT-SPOILERS IN THE MATERIAL TO FOLLOW. If you have not already seen the show and do not want to know what happens before seeing it onstage, in all its brilliant glory, then do not read on. (In many instances, I will just assume that the reader already knows what I'm talking about with reference to the musical.)
--
So when I first presented my concerns about objectionable themes in Wicked to my friend, he surprised me with his response. Instead of challenging my interpretation with his own alternative theory, he basically challenged the propriety of my drawing any interpretation at all. This caught me off guard because I have learned to take it for granted, as an operating assumption, that narrative drama and literature convey messages and meanings--not always necessarily as an explicit or overt intention of the author, but because stories, in their shape and character, reflect a particular view of the world and life.
Along these lines, my friend challenged me on two points. Firstly, he asked whether I could really know what were the mind and intention of the author when he wrote the play. Secondly, he doubted, even if the existence of such messages and themes could be established, that they would impact the audience in any significant way.
Anyone familiar with the vast and complicated realm of literary criticism will likely recognize these questions. The quantity of literature on them, alone, is enormous. According to one of my English professors, there are four major areas on which critics focus when dealing with the meaning and interpretation of a text: (1) author's intent, (2) the text itself, (3) the social/historical context of the work, and (4) the mind of the reader or audience. Different interpretive theories emphasize each of these aspects to different degrees.
In considering the first objection, I am actually not so much interested in the author's intent, because I believe that an author might reveal much about the world (or his/her view of the world) without intending to do so. So when I say that a play or novel conveys a certain message or set of themes, I am not necessarily saying that is his explicit intention, as if he sat down to write his play and began by asking himself, "How can I convey message X to the audience."
Here is an illustration of this point. (I'll expand on it further when I actually address my interpretation of the musical's themes in the second half of this blog.) Several characteristics (in the dialogue and action) of the conflict between the animals and the Ozians reminded me of certain portrayals of the contemporary debate over gay marriage and GLBT rights, where the opposing sides are represented as the oppressed minority and the oppressive majority. My friend was a bit skeptical when I first suggested this. Another friend actually pointed out to me (this is heresay) that the play was composed during the beginning of the Iraq war when many people were concerned about racial profiling. Now one may ask, did the author intend either one of these interpretations? Perhaps not. Perhaps he intended both. Perhaps he intended something else. But notice that whichever way you interpret it, there is still an underlying "arch-theme," the juxtaposition of the oppressed minority and the oppressive majority and that is what interests me. It may not have been in the conscious mind of the author, but that is not necessary for it to be, in a meaningfully, objective way, in the play.
[I won't delve into my own complete view of interpretation and meaning in text/drama because I don't have one. But I will say this as a kind of preliminary consideration. I believe that meaning, ultimately, is created by God. It thus exists as an objective feature of the universe. Our actions and conversations and day-to-day lives are full of significance and meaning, though we may not recognize that fact. What we, in turn, create is also full of meaning--sometimes because we intend it, sometimes because its just there as a feature of every existing thing. If we are watchful, we can pick up on both kinds. So, for instance, I see the protagonist, Elphaba, as going on a very distinctive journey, from basic essentialism, to existentialism, culminating in nihilism. Was that the overt intention of the author? Perhaps. Or maybe he just described the human experience as he saw it. He need not have understood it to reproduce it powerfully on stage. But the meaning was and is there, nonetheless.]
So basically, in answer to the first objection, I do not think that the author's intention need be directly considered when evaluating the messages, themes, and worldview of a play. "But," one may then ask, "if the author can convey meaning without intending it, can he really be held responsible for objectionable meanings." In other words, if I have a problem with the messages in Wicked, is it really appropriate for me to "blame" the author for a message that he did not intend to communicate?
The (perhaps) surprising answer is, "Yes." Now, by that, I do not mean that anyone should be tarred or feathered. Neither do I wish to defame anyone. But the messages that an author (indirectly) conveys are a product of the way in which he or she sees the world. Now there are a variety of factors that shape how an individual sees the world. Some of these factors are outside of our control, but many of them are under our direct and indirect control. Thus, people are responsible for seeing the world in the truest light, as it really is. That might require more clarification, but I'll leave that for another time.
Now, turning to the second objection, you may already have gotten the sense that a great deal of thought has gone into my critique and analysis of the themes and worldview of Wicked. Not everybody is interested in analyzing musicals (or movies or books) to that level of detail. Is it really feasible that any messages, even if present, would interest or affect audience-members?
The difference between my and my friend's answer to this question is highly noteworthy. In our conversation, he asserted that an unrecognized message would not affect the audience. I disagreed and suggested, instead, that an unrecognized message, would affect the audience; granted, it would not effect them on the conscious level of intellectual engagement, but it would affect them at an unconscious, emotive, or affective level.
[At this point, it may be helpful (or just more confusing) to turn to a peripheral objection that we had to deal with related to this material. I already pointed to the one exemplary "arch-theme" that frames disagreement in terms of the oppressed minority and oppressive majority. This theme concerns me because real life (including the debate over gay-marriage) is more complicated and requires more nuanced categories than this basic juxtaposition admits. But, my friend, pointed out, stories, if they do convey messages, are not intended to capture all the complicatedness of life. When Cinderella triumphs over the schemes of her wicked step-mother and step-sisters, that victory is not intended to reflect all relevant aspects of real-life familial relationships. It captures only one truth about the world--possibly, the ultimate triumph of good over evil, which is why fairy tales take it for granted that "they lived happily ever after."
[Part of treating stories properly is realizing that they only capture a slice of reality. It is the responsibility of the viewer to fit all the pieces together and insert each newly-introduced piece into the larger framework and nexus of his or her worldview. So, there may be nothing wrong, per se, with a play that presents an oppressed minority/oppressive majority juxtaposition, (I'll consider that more in part two) but, instead, a great deal hinges on the engagement of the viewer. Here we will return to consider the ways in which the messages in stories may affect viewers who do not actively engage the material being presented to them, who do not intentionally analyze the meanings and consciously integrate them into their larger worldview.]
So if a person sees lots of plays and movies (and reads lots of books) in which the characters are inserted into one of these two basic categories--oppressed minority or objective majority--over time, they will begin to view their own experiences in this way. (Here I am simply accepting the premise that people are, rather than "are not," affected by the messages conveyed in drama, even if unconsciously.) They will begin to frame conflict, in their own lives, in terms of these minorities and majorities. And if the good side is good just because it is the oppressed minority, then the ability of people who hold this view to critically and rationally engage their world and the experiences presented to them will be severely reduced.
This is part of the power of drama as a medium for communication. Drama mimics real-life experience. When we experience pleasure or pain in life, we tend to generate associations to what is good and bad. It's hard enough to wade through the flood of sensorial and emotional experiences to discern real truth (e.g. vegetables are good for you even if they taste bad). Drama also generates vicarious experiences of pleasure and pain, but in much more concentrated and compelling ways (e.g. an hour-long television show may cover an entire year in the life of a character). If it is difficult to discern truth in life, it is at least as complicated to discern it in drama. And if our lives are shaped by what we experience in life, then they are certainly also shaped by our experiences in the theatrical arts.
--
I have tried to explain some of the ways in which I understand meaning to be related to works of drama (on stage, in films or television, and in books). Having laid that foundation, I will go on in Part Two to describe the themes and messages that I saw in the musical, Wicked.
But it is my hope that the reader, whenever he or she views a drama or reads a book, will be attentive and consider what messages are being communicated through the action and dialogue, will take seriously the effect those can have on the individual, and will be intentionally about fitting them in to his or her overall worldview.
Until next time,
God bless,
--
God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.
posted by Metaphysician_delta | 10:53 PM
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