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juushikaSo I saw Wicked over the weekend.
I went in with reservations fostered by my experience with the book, which was promising but underwhelming and made me think that maybe there was just something here I wasn't getting. I worried that maybe this wasn't my story.
I needn't've. It is.
It's a fantastic adaptation, too—good adaptations are rare enough; superior ones are half a miracle. What makes it a success, I think, is that where the book is a constant combination of subtlety and stylization, one that makes for strong character and intense detail but also makes the story fragmented and, eventually, stylistically repetitive, the musical begins with overblown, comical generalization and then develops intense subtlety and ambiguity, a combination that finds the same depth but does so in a more cohesive, concise, more effective fashion. I also agree with you,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tabular_rasa: the links between retelling and source material were a little bit more clever in this version.
So it was a delight to watch. It was also—though I'm hesitant to say—a little life-changing. I think it's telling that I know so many people that identify with this story; telling too that I'm hesitant to do so: alienation and reclamation are powerful things, and I don't want to co-opt them, to lessen them by equating them with my underwhelming life. My sister and mother and I were all in tears, and between us we cover a wide spectrum between normal and weird, good and wicked. But then I can't speak for all of them, and I don't know if it was emotion roused by a story well-told or by...
Oh, I don't know. I'm still recovering from being too social and I shouldn't try to tackle words. Even if I were doing awesometastic, I don't know how I would express this. I am not Elphaba, not in the good or the bad: she had it worse, she does more, I can't hold a candle to that.
But I collect women, girls—fictional females with whom I identify, or something close enough to that. The Evil Queen from The 10th Kingdom. Maria, from Umineko no Naku Koro ni. GLaDOS, from Portal (and Dev is playing Portal 2 right now, and it's a little life-changing too, for different reasons). ETA: Rip van Winkle, from Hellsing. And yes these character are cruel and fantastic and delightfully evil (even in name!) and what that says about me I don't know. Elphaba is one of them, now: women who I am, sorta; who I want to be, maybe; who I admire for doing what they do, because of, despite, who they are, who we are.
It's hard to talk about that sort of thing without equating yourself to some evil queen (and I'm many things, but not that) or trying to put yourself on the level of an immensely talented, criminally neglected little girl (and I have no pretensions of being either of these things). But fiction uses lies to tell the truth. I'm not green but I'm different; I'm not an incredible witch but I have my talents; I understand tragic ends and I'm still trying to wrap my head around a happy ending. I understand Animals losing the ability to speak. I understand "Of course does, she just pretends not to."
And I know that I'm not the only one. It's not alien to feel alienated. That's telling, too.
I went in with reservations fostered by my experience with the book, which was promising but underwhelming and made me think that maybe there was just something here I wasn't getting. I worried that maybe this wasn't my story.
I needn't've. It is.
It's a fantastic adaptation, too—good adaptations are rare enough; superior ones are half a miracle. What makes it a success, I think, is that where the book is a constant combination of subtlety and stylization, one that makes for strong character and intense detail but also makes the story fragmented and, eventually, stylistically repetitive, the musical begins with overblown, comical generalization and then develops intense subtlety and ambiguity, a combination that finds the same depth but does so in a more cohesive, concise, more effective fashion. I also agree with you,
tabular_rasa: the links between retelling and source material were a little bit more clever in this version.So it was a delight to watch. It was also—though I'm hesitant to say—a little life-changing. I think it's telling that I know so many people that identify with this story; telling too that I'm hesitant to do so: alienation and reclamation are powerful things, and I don't want to co-opt them, to lessen them by equating them with my underwhelming life. My sister and mother and I were all in tears, and between us we cover a wide spectrum between normal and weird, good and wicked. But then I can't speak for all of them, and I don't know if it was emotion roused by a story well-told or by...
Oh, I don't know. I'm still recovering from being too social and I shouldn't try to tackle words. Even if I were doing awesometastic, I don't know how I would express this. I am not Elphaba, not in the good or the bad: she had it worse, she does more, I can't hold a candle to that.
But I collect women, girls—fictional females with whom I identify, or something close enough to that. The Evil Queen from The 10th Kingdom. Maria, from Umineko no Naku Koro ni. GLaDOS, from Portal (and Dev is playing Portal 2 right now, and it's a little life-changing too, for different reasons). ETA: Rip van Winkle, from Hellsing. And yes these character are cruel and fantastic and delightfully evil (even in name!) and what that says about me I don't know. Elphaba is one of them, now: women who I am, sorta; who I want to be, maybe; who I admire for doing what they do, because of, despite, who they are, who we are.
It's hard to talk about that sort of thing without equating yourself to some evil queen (and I'm many things, but not that) or trying to put yourself on the level of an immensely talented, criminally neglected little girl (and I have no pretensions of being either of these things). But fiction uses lies to tell the truth. I'm not green but I'm different; I'm not an incredible witch but I have my talents; I understand tragic ends and I'm still trying to wrap my head around a happy ending. I understand Animals losing the ability to speak. I understand "Of course does, she just pretends not to."
And I know that I'm not the only one. It's not alien to feel alienated. That's telling, too.
