This Month's Most Digested Posts
Check Out These Links
Search The Web
Custom Search
Books and Media Discussed on The Lunch Break

  • Eating Animals
    Eating Animals
    by Jonathan Safran Foer
  • City of Thieves: A Novel
    City of Thieves: A Novel
    by David Benioff
  • Paris Trout (Contemporary American Fiction)
    Paris Trout (Contemporary American Fiction)
    by Pete Dexter
  • Shards of Summer
    Shards of Summer
    by Kelly Jameson
  • Downtown Owl: A Novel
    Downtown Owl: A Novel
    by Chuck Klosterman
  • Olive Kitteridge: Fiction
    Olive Kitteridge: Fiction
    by Elizabeth Strout
  • Out Stealing Horses: A Novel
    Out Stealing Horses: A Novel
    by Per Petterson
  • The Catcher in the Rye
    The Catcher in the Rye
    by J.D. Salinger
  • The World Without Us
    The World Without Us
    by Alan Weisman
  • The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
    The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
    by Junot Díaz
  • The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (Vintage)
    The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (Vintage)
    by Stieg Larsson
  • Worth The Wait: Tales of the 2008 Phillies
    Worth The Wait: Tales of the 2008 Phillies
    by Jayson Stark
  • Snow Crash (Bantam Spectra Book)
    Snow Crash (Bantam Spectra Book)
    by Neal Stephenson
Get Merchandise From The Lunch Break Blog
Place Your Ad Here!

Want to see your company's ad here? Become an Advertising Partner with the Lunch Break Blog! See our Advertising page for more information.

Sponsored Links
Like the Site?
Bookmark and Share
Official PayPal Seal

Send Us Feedback
This form does not yet contain any fields.
    Question of the Week

    Leftovers From The Lunch Break Fridge
    « Yet Another Salinger Postmortem | Main | Beethoven, Brahms, and Bugs Bunny »
    Wednesday
    20Jan2010

    A Wicked Revision

    "God alone knows the future, but only a historian can alter the past" -Ambrose Bierce

    "To know nothing of what happened before you were born is to remain forever a child" -Cicero

    Last week, a special lady friend and I opted to decline on the standard lackluster Friday evening routine of TV, wine, and a couch and bravely ventured out on a chilly evening for some fine dining and a little slice of contemporary culture.  Our trip took us to one of the oldest theatres in the country in the still exquisite, recently refurbished Academy of Music.  The show was none other than the “back by popular demand”, Broadway smash sensation, Wicked.  Now, I am hardly a frequenter of the theatre, but I had heard such wonderful applause from such a wide array of friends, family, and colleagues, that I felt genuinely obligated to see what I was missing.  And although it pains me to concur with so many, I honestly have to agree that the show is a true success.  Not even an obstructed view could diminish my appreciation of the sensational voices, the witty dialogue, brilliant costumes, and the unquestionably creative spin on a beloved classic!

    Yet… as I reflect on the smoke pouring out of a giant mechanical dragon, and on the faces of the children one row in front of me, faces of glee and terror (at certain points), I am unable to contain my thoughts from pondering the dangerous implications of a seemingly innocent musical. 

    The Broadway Musical, Wicked, is an adaptation of Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel, Wicked: The Life and Times of The Wicked Witch of the West.  The novel is a transformation of L. Frank Baum’s classic, The Wizard of Oz.  But, rather than focusing on Oz’s main character, Dorothy, Maguire’s novel, and the Broadway version, concentrate on the birth, rise to infamy, and eventual perceived demise of the classic villain, The Wicked Witch of the West.  And here is where the updated story takes its greatest, and many see its most creative, turn- The Wicked Witch is not Wicked at all!  No, her name is Elphaba and she is merely a social outcast (due to her neon skin), an intelligent, ambitious student, a compassionate sister, and an average misunderstood soul.

    As the story unfolds, there is no end to Elphaba’s torment: cursed by her parents, incessantly mocked by her peers, especially the coolest girl in school Glinda (“The Good”), wrongly slandered by a malevolent Wizard (of Oz), and eventually ostracized as a villainous of incomparable nature by an intolerant society.  The swell of sympathy for Elphaba’s sad plight draws one in so well that the original image of the sinister Witch from Baum’s Oz, hunching in malicious form, pointing with menacing depravity, and promising to “…get you my pretty and your little dog too” is all but forgotten by most, and never even known by others.

    As a child, I learned a great deal from Disney fairy tales about the nature of good and evil.  Snow White, Cinderella, etc. taught me that there was evil in the world, evil that did not need to be explained or discussed, just understood in its identity as something to avoid when possible.  However, no story, or film for that matter elucidated this reality for me better than The Wizard of Oz.  The Wicked Witch of the West served as an archetype of evil for me, and millions of others for decade upon decade, to gauge our own morals and fears.  The allegorical nature of the story served as an excellent outlet for parents to discuss the reality of inexplicable evil in the world that all people inevitably encounter, even sweet pretty girls and their precious dogs too. 

    Now though, evil has become something complex, but alluring.  We no longer seek to simply recognize it, but also to understand its origins, explain its implications, and sometimes, as is the case with the musical Wicked, manipulate its reality altogether.  And here in lies the danger.  If the story simply sought to explicate the Wicked Witch’s path to evil, in an effort to understand her corruption and hopefully teach the value of prevention, that would be one thing, even arguably a good thing.  But this is not what was done.  Rather, Wicked completely amends a time-honored, accepted story, twisting it entirely upside down. 

    This is a sad case of revisionist history at its worst and establishes a dangerous precedent, especially for younger minds. 

    No longer will the children in the row ahead of me understand or appreciate the story of Dorothy, Toto, the Munchkins, the Scarecrow, Tinman, Cowardly Lion, the Wizard of Oz, or the Wicked Witch as a simple portrayal of good triumphing over evil.  Instead, they will doubt all that they see, hear, and read.  History will become merely a word to be suspicious of and question to the point of complete indifference, and not because it is sometimes distorted through lies of omission, but rather because it is completely untrue and therefore can be changed or completely ignored. 

    -         Snow White wasn’t poisoned by an evil witch.  She merely overdosed on some diet pills due to an eating disorder and the dwarves decided to blame it on the neighborhood recluse out of fear of embarrassment for Snow.

    -         The World Trade Centers weren’t blown up by terrorists.  No, the U.S. government actually did it an effort to justify a war with Osama Bin Laden and Al Qaeda for their moderate and rational questioning of Western culture. 

    -         The Holocaust never really happened…

    The last two are actually believed by millions of people, including many Americans.

    Don’t misunderstand me, please.  I know, as a lover of history, that it has often been manipulated, distorted, and downright corrupted by historians and governments alike.  Furthermore, I understand that The Wizard of Oz is not a true story, but it is a classic by all definitions of the word, and therefore has an important place in cultural history. 

    Younger generations of today continue to distance themselves further and further from their past and embrace more and more what pop culture feeds them as reality.  So while some may see the revision of an iconic story as harmless, and this post as a hyperbolic expression of an unwarranted fear, I personally look into the future, down the yellow brick road and over the rainbow, and feel a level of uncertainty greater than ever. 

     

    

    Reader Comments (7)

    This is well worded and impressive essay bringing together so many thoughts that I have a hard time trying to bring my response together. You do justice to the craft of the essay as an exercise of thought and expression by not only offering a strong argument but also explaining the other side.

    I am one who was taken by Maquire's book because I am one of those believers that Pope Benedict called humanist. Humanism is the ability to rationalize and justify all actions as good or bad depending on the perspective. This is how I understand it. It has always seemed dangerous to call things evil and good. The idea of right and wrong depending on innate notions seems the stuff of religion and myths instead of real experience and wisdom.

    Like you though, I have also been around long enough that an action can become evil because it leaves the realm of logic and explores pure selfish motives without the thought of other entities, no matter how inferior they seem.

    You bring up a point that I want to elaborate on: the individual will always see themselves as the hero. We uphold certain ones and deplore others if their sense of right runs accord with our own belief system. The persistence of the human race and nature itself, has decided a needed cooperation between all living things is necessary for prolonging our existence. We have built a system of laws and values to achieve these goals. When we live in a world where we all share the same values, then the wars will end. This will not happen until all truisms is universal.

    It is a slippery slope argument. But Elphaba's predictament is because she shuts herself off from attempting to be accepted. She is good but also full of pride and obstinance. She allows people's opinions to alienate herself. She is a person who is alienated, but not at the cost of abandoning those closest to us and leave everything behind. She chooses her pain many times though her hurt is justified. But it does corrupt. It makes her feel unloveable. She is a tragic but so much of her tragedy is created because she has decided on the same universals that the first Oz film used to depict her as evil. I find the irony so thick in the book, especially when you know the movie.

    Thanks for the review and ideas. Humanism and Truism will often be debated and when it comes up in literature and theatre, it gives us a chance to debate it civilly. When it doesn't, it often ends up in a major war.

    January 21, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJames Dugan

    You mention there is a danger in depicting evil as both complex and alluring, but isn't that how Real Life presents it to us? The differences aren't always clear cut in Real Life; sometimes when decisions have to be made, there isn't a good or bad choice -- there is only a choice with bits of both. At the same time, people aren't simply "good" or "bad." Instead, they are an amalgamation of good, evil, manipulative, deceiving, kind, thoughtful, destructive, and sentimental. Winnie Holzman did not attempt to delve into revisionist history. Instead, she made a huge case for the dangers of Limited Perspective.

    There is nothing wrong with creating a piece of art that challenges the needle of the viewer's moral compass, challenging them to make a distinction beyond the cookie-cutter good guy-bad guy. The danger is set when we over simplify these evils. Evil cannot be understood without discussion and explanations, nor without proper perspective.

    January 22, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterB. Traven

    Interesting. Please allow me to bring my psychedelic logic to bear on the matter. In the grand scheme of things, we are scarcely more than children, playing at morality, the way children play at the beach. We construct elaborate moral systems the way children create sand castles. The more elaborately we construct these systems, the more we become attached to them, and the more we cry, like children, when the waves of the cosmos bring our fabricated structures crashing down as the inexorable tide of time washes them away.

    Look at all the systems of morality that existed throughout history. Look at all the moral systems that exist now. What was called "good" according to one system of morals is clearly "evil" in another. Yes, I am advancing the relativism argument. No, I will never tire of this argument.

    January 23, 2010 | Unregistered Commentershaman Grarris

    Thanks for the responses. All very considerate and insightful. I would like to mainly respond to Traven's reply. All of your points are valid, but I don't think they should extend to children, who were the focus of my piece.

    Evil is certainly complex and must be understood from many angles before being labeled or judged. Many authors over the years have addressed the dichotomy of evil over the years, but none better than the romantic gothics. Shelley, Poe, and Stoker and eventually Lovecraft and today King, all saw the duality of evil, its inherent nature in all mankind and the hypocrisy of society's hard condemnation of it. Much of their literature was and or is an overt attempt of the destroying the "sand castles" of morality established by governments and religious institutions.

    And while the majority of adult society still abide the simplistic notions of right and wrong, there are more and more individuals embracing the relativist perspective of such things. However, this can not and should not occur until an teenage years or young adulthood. Children need a platform of morality to start with before being able to grasp such complex concepts discussed here. This foundation develops from religion, history, and family. It is concrete and simple because it has to be. And while there is the risk of insurmountable indoctrination, I feel this is a risk worth taking instead of the alternative of unrestrained subjectivity, which quite often leads to desensitization and apathy, expressed so eloquently by many of today's younger generation in "It is what it is".

    As for the use of art to achieve this, I simply used Wicked as a conduit to express these concerns. I actually admire the creativity of such efforts, but I feel its purpose is simply too mature for the large crowd of children present the night I saw the show.

    January 24, 2010 | Registered CommenterPatrick Edmonds

    Patrick, as always, your comments are intelligent and articulate, and I think I understand where you're coming from, but I completely disagree with this:

    "Children need a platform of morality to start with before being able to grasp such complex concepts discussed here."

    If you said "dull children", then I would agree. However, for precocious kids, nothing could be more potentially destructive. Much of my angst occurred as a result of people trying to fix a black and white notion of morality in my mind when, even at the age of 7, I could start to see behind the facade. When I was 7 years old, I became an atheist. Even then, I knew the notion of an omnibenevolent, "all loving" God, who sentenced disobedient souls to Hell was completely unjust. Infinite punishment for finite crimes (even then), I knew was a load of s*** - unless of course, God was evil.

    I think children should not be talked down to. People are constantly saying things like, "children need structure, children need black and white morality". I seriously think people underestimate the mental capacity of children. I was adding and subtracting negative numbers, on my own, at the age of 5. Had someone taught me the basics of algebra, at that age, then I'm sure I would have at least understood the basic concepts. Why do we continue to treat kids like over-protected mental cripples? It pisses me off...

    Our entire society suffers as a result. The proof is EVERYWHERE. Adults in our society feel they should always be coddled, and are offended at the slightest provocation. UGH! Grow up America. The best proof is that when someone speaks the truth, he is persecuted. I think Americans develop an allergy to the truth because their parents keep them in a state of abject ignorance for sooo long...

    January 24, 2010 | Unregistered Commentershaman Grarris

    Shaman, I wonder if you don't take your own gifts for granted in assuming other children can process such complex concepts at such a young age as you did. Psychologically speaking, most research states that children do not really begin to think in the abstract until they are 9 years old. When one talks to the average 5, 6, or 7 year old, their image of an afterlife is primarily concrete. Rather than envisioning the idea of an eternal soul, they see people retaining their human flesh siting on a cloud somewhere. Obviously different religions and cultures have different variations of this.

    Now, it is certainly true that society, usually religion, creates these images and they are reinforced by parents and entire cultures, but I believe it is often with the intention of providing a valuable process of learning. Do I think adolescents could discuss these concepts at the ages of 11, 12, 13, etc. and be able to have intellectual discourses? Yes I do. But to believe the average 6, 7, and 8 year old can, I think, is too idealistic. It's one thing to teach concrete mathematical concepts, but it is entirely different thing to expect children to grasp the sophisticated workings of good and evil. Also, I still stand by my feeling that it is dangerous to attempt to do so because it risks trivializing what are certainly acts of evil.

    I don't think a father or mother should have to attempt to explain Osama Bin Laden's and Al Qaeda's motivations for helping aid and organize the death of 3000+ innocent Americans. Nor should they potentially excuse their actions by explaining the multifaceted political, religious, racial, and cultural variables of such situations. I think it is in the child's interest to know simply that there are bad, evil, wicked people in the world who do bad, evil, wicked things. And, as they grow and are exposed to different teachings, people, races, histories, and cultures, they will be able to understand these ideas more thoroughly.

    I'm not sure if you've read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close yet, but it is arguably the best novel of the 21st century so far and touches on many of the issues above through the eyes of a 9 year old precocious atheist who is trying to make sense of his father's death in the WTC attacks. I highly recommend it if you haven't read it yet.

    Anyway, as always, your thoughts are also intelligent and considerate and worth pondering.

    BTW- If you truly believe children are able to understand such matters, how would recommend society teaching these ideas to them? Would it be entirely on the parents' shoulders or would schools incorporate these discussions? I only ask because it may help me understand your viewpoint better. Thanks!

    January 24, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterPatrick Edmonds

    dude, once I sober up, I'm going to try to articulate an intelligent response... You gave me a lot of things to think about. When the alcohol wears off, I will try to address your comments. Perhaps I am idealistic, but I seriously think children are capable of profound depth of thought... unfortunately, my psych courses were more focused on the elderly, than on childhood development - you basically get a choice in the psych program, kids or elderly, and I chose to focus on the elderly...

    January 28, 2010 | Unregistered Commentershaman Grarris

    PostPost a New Comment

    Enter your information below to add a new comment.

    My response is on my own website »
    Author Email (optional):
    Author URL (optional):
    Post:
     
    Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>