Hadestown: The Tragedy That Changed My Life
SJ Shoemaker
Word Count: 6,137
1/31/2022
Setting the Scene
Introduction:
“How would you describe your depression?” Quite the sentence to open 2022 with, isn’t it? This is the first line of a piece I wrote nearly a decade ago. What does this old and frankly poorly-written piece have to do with Hadestown the Musical, a life-changing transformation, or the new year? I can explain, but it will take a while.
If everything has gone to plan, an audio version of this blog post should have been released alongside the transcript. If you are listening right now: Sweet, it worked! If you are not, it should be posted just above the article. Give it a try if you’d like unless something has gone wrong–in which case, keep reading. I bought a new podcast microphone over the holidays for use on a number of projects planned for 2022 and just couldn’t wait to try it out. I’m open to any feedback you’d like to provide in the comments but, keep in mind, this is my first ever audio production, so don’t be too harsh.
Since starting my website and publishing my stories online, I have made it a priority to do with my writing every New Year’s what most people do with their health or personal goals. Look back on the previous year evaluating what has been successful as well as areas requiring improvement, set a handful of achievable goals, and then tell others as external motivation to stick with the program.
This year, just to change things up a bit, I intended to find an old story and rewrite it. The result would be a testament to my growth as a writer and perhaps could be used as an example of good vs. bad writing if I were willing to post the embarrassing original. After a few hours of consideration, I knew exactly the piece, too. Years ago, I wrote a piece about a King who had come into power and made his first act as ruler the consultation of an Oracle. The King’s future is told, and the Oracle explains that history will always be interested in Why as much as What. And while the Oracle agrees with the outcome, he cannot condone the motivations of the new King. I remember the blast I had writing the piece. The concept still interests me. And It was long enough ago I was sure improvements could be made. Now that I had the idea, I just had to find where I saved it.
Hadestown – What is it:
Hadestown is a Musical with music and lyrics by Anaïs Mitchell and directed by Rachel Chavkin. It debuted Off-Broadway in 2016. Additional productions followed in Edmonton and London before finally premiering on Broadway in 2019, the very same month the world began to shut down over a virus. So if this is your first time hearing about it, I understand. But it comes with the highest of recommendations. It won the Grammy Award for Best Musical Theater Album alongside 8 Tony Awards including Best Musical and Best Original Soundtrack. The Original run was filled with a star-studded and incredibly talented cast. Reeve Carney provides a naive and optimistic false falsetto playing against Patrick Page’s bass that keeps going lower and lower without end. Eva Noblezada is impossibly adorable with a voice just as impossibly powerful. And it’s all narrated by André De Shields who does flamboyant trists and subtle emotion with equal skill. But enough praise. What’s Hadestown actually about?
It’s an old song.
Hadestown – Road to Hell
It’s an old tale from way back when.
It’s an old song.
And we’re gonna sing it again.
Hermes and the Chorus
The plot is nothing new. It’s been told and retold for centuries. The narrator says as much in the opening number. It’s an old tale from way back when. Two, in fact. The play follows two famous Greek tragedies. The first, Hades and Persephone. If you recall from High School mythology class, Hades sees young Persephone in her mother’s garden and immediately falls in love with her. He secrets her away to his underworld. But the world begins to die without the goddess of nature and fertility and the Pantheon demands her immediate return. A deal is struck, and she eats six pomegranate pips grown in the underworld, allowing her to return to her love and now husband 6 months out of the year, thus creating the seasons. All of this has happened long before the opening number. And over the centuries, the two find it harder and harder to rekindle their love for one another.
The musical begins with the other tale: That of Orpheus and Eurydice. Orpheus is a muse with a voice that can bring plants back from the dead, working on a song to bring back spring during the long, hard winters. Eurydice is a young poor girl who has seen more than her fair share of misery. And the two fall in love before the worst winter the world has ever seen. Orpheus tries and fails to finish his song, while Eurydice tries and fails to keep food on the table.
The two tragedies become intertwined when Eurydice–desperate for food–stumbles into Hades who is looking for a new companion. The two strike a deal: she’ll attend to him and he’ll ensure she never feels the pain of hunger again. She fails to read the fine print.
When Orpheus discovers his love has been taken to the underworld, he walks into Hell itself to steal her back. The rest… well, you know how the story goes.
Concept:
The search for my old writing projects proved difficult. I tend to save backups of backups, so it was likely on a USB drive somewhere. But I had moved at least 3 times since the last time I even thought about the piece, so finding it would involve a lot of unpacking.
In the interim, a video arrived in my Youtube subscriptions from Hello Future Me. He creates writing advice content, most often around world-building. I’ll be sure to link his page down below. He’s another of my recommendations. The video was him responding to a question posed by a fan. Instead of the typical question of “What are your favorite, or must-read books?”, the question was more personal, requiring elaboration beyond just book titles. “What stories changed your life?” I immediately saved this question as a backup if my old writing couldn’t be recovered. Answered before I could even ask the question of myself. Hadestown, of course.
My story was eventually recovered, and it’s written worse than I could have imagined. A rewrite will very likely happen this year, but the original will thankfully never be posted. Along with my story of a newly appointed King, I found a handful of other works. Included among them, the one beginning “How would you describe your depression?”. It was the perfect piece to illustrate the struggle I’ve had making my writing public and the changes I’ve overcome thanks to the lessons presented in works like Hadestown. Instead of debating between my primary and backup ideas for the new year, why not both?
Part One: A Story Needs Telling
Once Upon a Time There was a Railroad Line:
Hadestown opens with a singular trumpet playing a simple bass loop. The notes rise and fall and rise again. In an endless cycle, round and round. In comes the voice André De Shields, who plays the timeless narrator Hermes, echoed by the chorus of the Fates.
Chugga chugga chugga chugga.
Hadestown – Road to Hell
Chugga chugga chugga chugga.
Hermes and the Fates
The biggest change Hadestown makes from the classic Greek tales is the setting. Although nothing within the script specifies an exact time, the sets and costumes, the jazz riffs, even a few lines are very reminiscent of the United States during the 1920s and 1930s, in the midst of the Great Depression (Look at that, a connection to my story). Just a few examples, Persephone’s office is modeled after a speakeasy. Hades is referred to as the foreman of Hadestown. He, in turn, refers to the souls in his domain as his employed, harkening back to company towns. And, of course, the train. The railroad is the central set piece of the musical. It begins and ends with that railroad track, where we’re all just a one-way ticket from endless labor in the underworld.
The trumpet rift continues, repeating in the background as Hermes introduces all the players. Here’s Persephone and Hades, there’s Orpheus and Eurydice. All the while the chorus reminds you of what you already know. This isn’t a new story. It’s an old tale from way back when. It’s an old song. It’s a love song. It’s a sad song. It’s a tragedy. It’s a thousand different things from a thousand different retellings. The words change with each repeat of the chorus, not precisely the same as the time before. But each chorus ends on the same line. As the tempo increases and the horns blare louder, the chorus always ends:
And we’re gonna sing it again!
Hadestown – Road to Hell
Hermes and the Chorus
Celebrating, delighting in the fact that this is not an original story. As the number ends with a big finish, cymbals clashing, trumpets blaring, André dragging that last note out just a little longer, the question begins to form in the back of your head. Why retell this story? Anaïs Mitchell is a talented writer and composer, the music speaks for itself. Any musical she decided to write would be a banger, so why not write something new? And why out of all the classics is she retelling this one?
The following numbers set up the main characters and put the plot into motion. Eurydice has been poor all her life, always a meal or two from death. She is wary of new people and never trusts a promise. She’s practical and realistic. Doesn’t care about what was or might be. Just the here and now.
Orpheus is the son of a muse raised by Hermes after his mother died. He is Eurydice’s opposite. Able to see the potential in the world. And, most annoying of all, his charm and gentle naivety have a way of spreading that positivity to others.
They meet, and Orpheus leads by telling her that he’s going to marry her. Eurydice initially rejects his advances, but he tells her that he’s working on a song that will bring back an eternal spring. A song that would solve her hunger problem. So she promises a date in return for a sample of his magical song. A sample that he happily delivers. And for a moment, she too sees how the world could be, in spite of the way that it is.
Why Write:
I remember once reading a piece of writing advice that interrogated that concept. Why write? If you are to write a single word, it said, you MUST be able to answer this question concisely and with conviction–multiple answers are not allowed. Why write? Your answer must be your core, your very being. Until you feel like you’d die without it, you shouldn’t even begin to write.
It is my opinion that writing advice is completely backward. That question does not matter in the least. If you’re not sure, write. If you have multiple answers, write. If your answer may be frowned upon in the writing community, write. Writing is inherently a selfish endeavor. External factors can and will be taken into consideration, but they are nothing without the personal desire to create in the first place. To do anything creative or artistic the only reason you ever need is “I feel like it”. And that is the most accurate answer I could provide. I feel like it.
I have social anxiety. Spontaneous speech has always been a struggle. My words trip me up; the pursuit of precise phrasing will halt me mid-sentence. With a particularly long-winded response, I am all but guaranteed to lose track of my thoughts before I am finished speaking. Sometimes I write to feel as if I’m in control. Other times I write to feel like I’ve fully expressed myself where I would otherwise remain silent.
I struggle with depression. I’ve had depressive episodes on and off since middle school. Sometimes I write to feel complete, to work through a series of complex emotions, giving each their necessary time to process. Other times I write to feel more sympathetic, to force myself into the shoes of someone I cannot understand or whose position I firmly disagree with just to find a middle ground. Others still, I write to feel anything at all.
I write wholly for myself. I write because I feel like it. That answer is sufficient. But it does provoke an infinitely more compelling question: If I write for me, then why publish? Why show anyone any of it? Why bother editing and rewriting for an unknown audience, transforming my work into what I merely guess might enthrall a reader? Why publish at all?
Interlude – An Impersonal Answer:
How would you describe your depression?
Depression is most often referred to metaphorically as a dark rain cloud. The sun is out for all to enjoy. The people of the world are enjoying their collective picnic and when I go to join my friends in the shade of an oak tree on a hill, I’m caught off guard. Without warning or forecast from the weatherman, a localized rain cloud storms out the party. This metaphor illustrates my lack of control. I cannot change the weather. You don’t ask me to make it snow, or change the night to day. So why blame me for the rain? I don’t want it there any more than you, but there it is all the same. To fight against mother nature is a fruitless endeavor, and besides, it is only rain. Isn’t it easier to pull on your coat, pop up your hood, and scrunch up your face at the incoming rain? A little water never hurt anyone, isn’t that how the saying goes? Most anything can be done in rain as well as sun, just takes a bit more to clean up, is all.
But it’s less fun in the rain. And I do miss the sun. Perhaps you are right to stay in and wait out the weather. And if no one’s joining me, I might as well too. One day the sun will shine again.
Most often depression is characterized like this. And while it gains my understanding and sympathy, that is not how I would describe it.
Part Two: Reality is Messy
Where’d You Get That Melody:
With the two main characters of Hadestown firmly established, the musical continues. Hermes approaches Orpheus, having heard the song he sang to impress Eurydice.
Where’d you get that melody?
Hadestown – Epic I
Hermes
And while Orpheus can’t recall, perhaps his muse of a mother sang it to him as a child, the timeless Hermes knows it well. It’s a song of love from long ago, he says. Hades once sang it to Persephone to show his immeasurable love for her. But it hasn’t been sung in a long time.
Orpheus is driven with encouragement from his mentor to find the old song once more. Throughout the second act, he tells the story of Hades and Persephone over and over again. Changing the words slightly with each retelling, shifting his focus from one detail to the next until it is perfect. And with that, Orpheus becomes a stand-in for the play itself, and the audience quickly find themselves asking the same question they asked in the opening number. Why retell this story, what is gained from revisiting old tragedies and reopening old wounds? The following number reminds the audience to be patient: Good things come to those who wait, it says.
A train pulls into the station, and a crowd forms, excited for the traveler off-boarding: Persephone, back from her 6-month hiatus in Hadestown. Spring has returned. Celebrations are in order. Many celebrations. In fact, that seems to be the only thing Persephone is interested in. As the number goes on, with her excessive drinking and multiple derogatory comments about the Hell she’s been in for the last half a year, it quickly becomes clear, she and Hades are not quite as in love as they were in Orpheus’ song. She drinks her spring and summer away, too busy dreading the future to enjoy her present. Then one day her train comes into the station and tears her away from the sun, and the world is plunged into another terrible winter.
Orpheus puts his head down to finish that song of spring he promised Eurydice. He writes and rewrites it, never quite getting it perfect. Eurydice does her best to keep them fed over the winter, but there’s only so much food and oh so many people.
As they struggle above, Hades enters down below. Each time his wife leaves him for the surface, he begins to build. Railway lines, and coal mines. Neon lights and furnaces running on oil from his refineries. Monuments to impress Persephone. All the while she spends her time in the speakeasy, drinking her days away until her ticket home can be punched once more. Too focused on the future to acknowledge the present.
Hades has the opposite problem. They were in love. They were happy. Once upon a time they sang and danced together, but no more. And no matter how many industries he controls, no matter how many statues he builds, she just won’t love him like she used to. What must he do? So he builds endlessly. Walls so high they block out the sky. Each new project will be the one to make it like it was, will bring the past back to him, will let him hold what has slipped from his grasp so long ago.
But it’s not enough and will never be. He confronts her and she spits in his face. These are shrines to his power, altars to his ego. They have nothing to do with his love. He can’t stand her answer, and in a fit of rage, he swears to go to the surface himself and bring back her replacement.
If you don’t even want my love, I’ll give it to someone who does.
Hadestown – Chant
Someone grateful for her fate.
Someone who appreciates,
The comfort of a gilded cage,
and doesn’t try to fly away…
Hades
And with those words, the two stories become entwined. For he quickly settles on Eurydice as the replacement. The winter has been cruel to her; she’s starving, one foot in the grave already. Hades offers a solution to both of their problems, and Eurydice is too weak to refuse. To never feel the pain of hunger was what she has always wanted, after all. So, she too takes a train ride to Hadestown. But, unlike Persephone’s, her ticket is one-way.
Orpheus soon discovers she is gone and swears he would do anything to get her back. A promise that is immediately tested. With help from his mentor, Hermes. Orpheus sets out on foot, following that ol’ train track all the way into the heart of Hadestown. He intends to make a deal with the devil himself to get his wife’s soul back.
Why Publish:
The process of writing a new story–creating a new world, and walking the reader through it on a tour of all the most intriguing parts–is incredibly rewarding. I will never stop, even if I never show my work to another soul again. Writing is inherently a selfish endeavor. But after the story is brought into existence, a raw first draft with ugly, sharp edges and grammatical error blotting its pages, I have little desire to pay it another visit. Writing allows me to write through strong emotions of depression and fear and anger–that one surprises me the most. Especially my older works, they’re just vitriolic. Reading through my old stories is basically guaranteed to stir up these old negative emotions, and many times those same emotions aren’t resolved (not fully) by the end of the story. So why share these stories with others? Like Orpheus strumming endlessly on his lyre, I’m asking the same question. Why retell this story? What is gained from revisiting old tragedies and reopening old wounds? I struggled with this question for a decade.
In the midst of this trouble, I had the opportunity to converse with Greg Rucka. He’s one of my favorite authors and often delves into dark subject matters, similar to my own work. For those of you not familiar with the name, he is an American novelist and comic writer. He’s had a number of extremely well-received forays into the DC universe. His independent comic books of Stumptown (ABC) and the Old Guard (Netflix) were both recently given live-action adaptations.
Anyway, the conversation. The conversation consisted of me explaining my predicament–my hesitancy making my work publicly accessible for fear of the negativity it will produce in readers–and asking if he has faced similar consternation or could otherwise suggest a way to address my concerns. His initial, off-the-cuff response was to invoke Shakespeare. He wrote about dark themes. Am I suggesting that Shakespeare was wrong to do so? Which is fair, I don’t believe Shakespeare was wrong, but that answer misses the point of the question. He continued by considering a world where people only wrote about rainbows and positivity. How boring and disingenuous writing would be in such a scenario. Which again, I would fully agree with. However, that still doesn’t address the question of why. Do we write of murders, suicides, love lost, and impossible decisions just so we aren’t bored? That can’t be the sum of it.
As our time came to a close, I probed even harder. He left on the idea that negativity indeed exists and how it’s important to confront it rather than ignore it. Like Hades and Persephone in the musical, failing to acknowledge reality and the current state, prevents us from moving onward.
I thanked him for his time as he was pulled away to the next event on his calendar, but I can recall perfectly the disappointment I felt while leaving. It was an answer, but not a satisfactory one, not completely. But progress is progress. So, I reformed the question once more in my head: How does one know the line between confronting the negative and reveling in it?
Interlude – An Incomplete Attempt:
How would you describe your depression?
Most days I wouldn’t. I can do anything while depressed that I can any other day, but I don’t have the physical or mental energy to start the journey. It’s a draining experience, like walking through sand. So why waste a moment thinking about it while it’s away? Why revisit old tragedies and reopen old wounds?
Imagine living near the peak of a mountain. Your friends and family are there. There’s a whole town and community. Anything you need day-to-day is a short distance away. Everyone enjoys it there, yourself included. At least, most of the time. You see, every once in a while, as you drift off to sleep, your bedroom is picked up and carried a certain distance down the mountain. Some nights it’s a couple of hundred feet. Others, a few thousand. On a particularly bad night, you might get carried halfway or more toward the base. When this happens, are plans ruined. Are you incapable of performing your daily tasks? Of course not, but it will take far more time and energy climbing up to that peak in order to even begin. And some days, I can’t be bothered to make that climb.
Or, how about this. A lion! A wild lion is in my garage. Don’t ask why. I have no idea how it got there. Didn’t want it. Honestly, who would? But here I am. He seems content most days. Only acts up when he’s hungry or needs exercise. And I fear if he becomes too enraged he might break out. Imagine the damage he could cause. On those days, I have to spend hours feeding him or getting him to chase after a toy for exercise. I try to keep on top of my schedule regardless of the lion’s current state. He just… takes so much time to placate.
No, neither of these answers is sufficient. They get to a truth but not the whole of it. My interaction with the world after an episode is well enough explained here. But not what happens internally. Not my interaction with myself. No, this isn’t how I’d describe my depression. It’s far too charitable.
Part Three: Change by Way of Tragedy
It’s a Tragedy:
Orpheus follows the train tracks for ages, keeping low and staying out of sight of security. He outruns the hound dogs and makes it to the impossibly large, impenetrable wall surrounding Hadestown. Then he sings a song so beautiful the stones themselves weep for his sorrow and open to allow him admittance. And after a lengthy search, finally, he finds Eurydice. The lovers are reunited. But their journey is only half complete.
Orpheus confronts Hades. He will not leave without Eurydice. But he didn’t come to steal her away from Hadestown. No, he didn’t come empty-handed. Instead, he has a deal to offer the ruler of the Underworld. He reaches behind his back and withdraws a lyre. At long last, his song is finished. Hades humors the boy. He’s been needing a good laugh. And look at that, the song is about him. Of course it is, what better way to placate Hades than appeal to his ego. But not just him. Persephone is there too. It’s the tale of how they fell in love, ancient history retold to the melody of love Hades wrote for his darling once upon a time.
Singing la lala la lala la,
la lala lalala la,Where’d you get that melody?
la lala la lala la,
Let him finish, hades.
Hadestown – Epic III
Orpheus, Hades, and Persphone
Orpheus continues to sing. Along the way, in their one-way march through time, as Hades and Persephone fell out of love, they had forgotten about that song. And as they relive their story, reminded of old emotions wrapped in a melody of sorrow which was lost to time, Hades begins to weep. Persephone takes him by the hand.
And brother, you know what they did?
Hadestown – Epic III (They Danced)
They danced.
Hermes
You see, Orpheus had a gift to give. The same gift he used to make Eurydice fall in love with him. He could make you see how the world could be, in spite of the way that it is. And he shared that gift with Hades and his love, Persephone.
So, was that payment enough? Would Hades let Eurydice walk out of Hell hand-in-hand with Orpheus? Well, yes. And no. He will let them go, but not without a condition. He has a reputation to uphold, after all. Orpheus must walk in front, Eurydice behind. He must never stop and never look back to see if she is still there. So says Hades.
And so they walk. In silence. One behind the other. Without support from each other. Alone. And all Orpheus has to do is keep walking. He just has to keep looking forward. It’s so simple. Anyone could do it. But doubt comes in. What ifs. Could it be a trick? Maybe Eurydice isn’t there. He can’t hear her reassuring voice or her footfall. How can he be sure that she’s there?
The final number begins. The same melody as the opening number, but slower, more somber. Hermes begins with familiar words. It’s an old song. It’s an old tale from way back when. It’s a sad song. What few instruments are playing halt. The stage is dark and empty, the single spotlight shines upon Hermes. All attention falls to him as he speaks what has been known for 3000 years.
It’s a tragedy.
Hadestown – Road to Hell (Reprise)
Hermes
Orpheus made it out of Hadestown that day, but he did so alone. He gave into his internal struggle and glanced back, just for a moment. Eurydice was right behind him, just like he knew that he knew that she would be. And as she was dragged back into the depths, his name still on her lips, he had only himself to blame. How could he have failed so close to the end? It was such an easy task: look and walk forward. That’s it!
It’s a sad song.
Hadestown – Road to Hell (Reprise)
Hermes
Why would the ancient Greeks write such a terrible ending? Why revel in disappointment? Why write tragedies at all? What was the point of all this?
But we sing it anyway.
Hadestown – Road to Hell (Reprise)
Hermes
The instruments fade in, backing Hermes vocals as he continues.
‘Cause here’s the thing.
Hadestown – Road to Hell (Reprise)
To know how it ends
And still begin to sing it again,
As if it might turn out this time…
I learned that from a friend of mine
Hermes
There was never a chance for a happy ending. Orpheus failed in this retelling because he failed in the original tale and this musical does not veer far from its source material. These are all facts handed to the audience by the opening number and yet, they dared to hope all the same. What was the point? That. Hope. A fleeting chance to see the world as it could be, in spite of the way that it is. That was Orpheus’ gift.
More instruments and vocals join the chorus as they repeat those same lines from the opening. It’s an old song. It’s a sad song. It’s a love song. Each time around the chorus, even if the lyrics change slightly from telling to retelling, they end with that same promise: and we’re gonna sing it again. Because as sad as moments of this tragedy are, they help keep us righted. Help keep us looking ahead until we’re through to the other side. As they sing. A train pulls into the station once more. Out steps Persephone. Spring has come once more. They all celebrate, cheers and exuberant dancing. All the while, repeating their promise:
and we’re gonna sing it again and again.
Hadestown – Road to Hell (Reprise)
Hermes and the Chorus
Interlude – The Way That it Is
How would you describe your depression?
In my early college days, I held an internship at a tech company nearby my house. It was maybe a quarter-mile, close enough I walked every day. There was a nicely made sidewalk the entire distance with streetlamps to light the way in the evenings. In the median between the sidewalk and road, was lined a row of small maple trees. The leaves turned the most brilliant colors during the fall. It was a wonderful walk apart from a single, small detail. About halfway between home and work, the roots of one of those maples had grown underneath the sidewalk and pushed one slab upward. Just a tiny bit, half an inch at most. But that was still enough to consistently trip me if I wasn’t careful. It was a small thing, noticeable, and easy to avoid.
I know what triggers my depression. I know how to avoid these triggers. It is completely in my power to do so. I just need to be careful.
Inevitably, on that daily walk, something would distract me. I noticed an eagle on the nearby line. A particularly difficult problem from work consumed my thoughts. The plot of a fascinating book replayed over and over in my head. Whatever the culprit. I would be distracted and once again trip over that crack, stumbling into the grass. And, since I live in the Pacific Northwest, the grass was almost always accompanied by mud.
Events of life often tear my guard down. Even for a short while, it’s long enough to tumble head-first into a trigger.
At first, my frustration at my semi-frequent trips into the mud was toward the sidewalk. But that’s an inanimate object, it has no control over the situation. So I turned my anger toward the tree, having fantasies about ripping it up by the roots during the dead of night. But the tree and sidewalk were very much in the same category. Inanimate. So, what about the person who planted the tree? A complaint with the city was placed, asking them to either remove the tree or sand down the corner of the concrete slab. My request went unanswered. It was outside of my powers to change any of the facts of the situation. So my anger turned inward. I can avoid it. I am fully capable of avoiding this crack. It’s simple. Anyone can do it. And yet, I repeatedly don’t. So when I find myself in the mud once more, I convince myself that I am to blame. Anyone can do it and yet I still can’t. Anyone is better than me. How stupid can I be? How worthless?
It’s unfair to think of it in these terms. I am too hard on myself and it only serves to make my depressive episodes worse. And yet I still do. You’re making it worse. Just stop being so hard on yourself, you idiot.
Around the drain I go once more.
Yeah, I think that damn crack is a pretty good description.
Conclusion – We’re Gonna Sing it Again:
Ultimately, my question was answered and I began publishing monthly to my website. Why focus my writing on depressing or anger-inducing content? Simply because I feel like it. That is what interests me and it’s therapeutic to write. But why share these personal therapy sessions with the world? The strength of anger and outrage in causing change. Were we to all be like Eurydice from the start of the musical, unfazed by anything and too focussed on personal needs to inspect and critique the reality that brought her to that place, none of us would have the time or motivation to improve our world or our place in it. Were we to be like Hades and Persephone, Consumed with a time long since past or wasting away the hours waiting for a future to begin, what hope do we have for our present? Or, were we to do as Rucka warned against and build a society around pretending the flaws do not exist, progress would not be possible.
When Orpheus is walking toward the surface, doubting his Eurydice is steps behind. When the audience watches on with bated breath as he contemplates a life-changing decision. They both create a world in their minds where what could be, is. The potential is laid bare and considered. And the outrage when that potential is lost, when possibility is torn down to make way for reality, we are moved emotionally to change the latter to be more like the former. Disappointment and despair, anger and sadness, all forms of discontent can be utilized to improve both oneself and one’s reality.
This is the concept that I had been unknowingly using for years with my personal writings. By expressing fully that I am depressed by something and how frustrated that makes me, I am indirectly acknowledging something better ought to exist. And that is something I’m happy to share with others. That is what I hope others take away from my work. That is why I’ve been making my writings public for multiple years now and will continue to do so for years–hopefully decades–to come.
But, even with all that said, it leaves one question still unanswered. How do you find the line between confronting the negative and indulging in it? Carefully and optimistically. The line between the two is not remotely clear-cut. Sometimes only differing by a mindset. It’s a challenge, but one I’m happy to confront. So long as I’m able to provide a glance, no matter how transitory, of something better. Something to hope for or work toward, I’ll trust my readers to learn from the example of Orpheus. Because, to see the world as it could be, in spite of the way that it is, is a gift we cannot be so foolish as to cast aside.
I learned that from a friend of mine.
External Links:
Hadestown –
Hello Future Me –
https://www.youtube.com/c/HelloFutureMe
Greg Rucka –
Would you like to share your thoughts?
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *
1 Comment